Monday, October 31, 2011


Written by my friend Dong Wood

I hate to work out just as much as the next person, yes, but I have an inherent hate for Jillian Michaels. And when I say “hate”, I mean “love-hate”. Every morning, I wake up, grab some coffee while I check email, and balance my checkbook. This morning, I did a little extra work – researched some texas electricity providers for better rates, and spent a few minutes on Pinterest. Then, I make the dreaded walk from the office to my closet to put on my dreaded sports bra and shorts and pop in that dreaded DVD with Jillian and her dreaded abs. I honestly don’t think I could hate or love her more. Her with her motivating voice and her perfect biceps. Her tight shorts and her bouncy ponytail. I fight it right down to the last pull of my shoelace, but always give in. And, Lord, do I always feel better afterwards. But, it’s the witching hour of cardio and abs that really kills me. This torture better pay off come swimsuit season.

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