I own my share of workout DVDs. And I have actually used them. Yes, really. Multiple times. But eventually, I get tired of the program, find something different, or want to stab the trainer so I move on. Not one to give up entirely, I recently tried another series and so far so good. But it got me thinking. These workout DVDs don’t reflect real people. Everyone in them is already incredibly toned. If you can banter while doing burpees, then we are not even close to similar fitness levels. I cannot relate to you. What if there was a home workout DVD for the rest of us? A workout series that features a supporting cast with varying degrees of fitness, forget the uber-sculpted, picture perfect “after” people. I want to see Nancy who has a visible muffin top and is there strictly to make us all feel better about ourselves. Our new best friend, Nancy, keeps pausing to take drinks and then just phones it in when she can be bothered to return. This DVD features one keener, let’s call her Sheila, and the rest shoot her dirty looks and roll their eyes whenever the instructor singles her out for her exceptional stamina and skill. Sheila shows everyone up and likes it. Let’s see some people struggling with the coordination some moves require. And at some point someone needs to trip. At least once. Or just fall over for no reason. On to workout gear. No spandex. Alright, the top performer is allowed, but everyone else needs to wear an old t-shirt with loose shorts. Preferably, we’re going to see repeated clothing adjustments as the workout progresses. Top marks if there is a chronic wedgie issue for at least one person. There should be a counter at the bottom that let’s you know the amount of snack food you have burned off. “That’s ten M&M’s, not bad.” “Keep going, you’ve almost neutralized the spoonful of peanut butter you ate after lunch.” Hair. We all stop our workouts to redo our pony tail or clip or what-not. Minimum, someone in the background must have bangs that keep getting into their eyes. When the instructor announces that the workout is halfway done, I’d like to see some defeated expressions, possibly gasp. The best would be a cast member moaning “come ON, that’s IT?”. Bonus if they walk off in a huff and give up altogether. Everyone else is still trying, but there’s that one woman keeled over, gasping for air and holding up a finger requesting a minute. During jumping jacks or a similar plyometrics-inspired segment, one of them stops, looks horrified, a rushes off stage only to return minutes later wearing new shorts (I think we all know what happened there). During the cool down, someone needs to pass gas. Preferably the most fit member in the group, yes, you, Sheila. The others quietly moves a little farther away, smirking. While everyone else is stretching, Nancy just waves it off with “nah, I’m good,” and slowly unwraps a Snickers. As they exit the studio, an especially exhausted participant hi-fives the instructor and then, barely audible, mutters “you’re dead to me.” That’s a DVD I would buy. __________ Looking for more thoughts and feelings on exercise? How about my views on doing organized sports?
It’s time to face reality: I am not going to magically lose the lingering bit of baby weight. Our youngest is three now, so I’ve definitely given it enough time. I’ve tried all the popular fads: M&Ms Neolithic, The Oreo Fast, The Hershey AND the Cadbury, all for naught. The scale has not budged (in either direction, so there’s that). I’ve accepted this reality and have decided to take control of my health and fitness.
Yes, I’ve tried this before with varying results. I almost killed Bearded Husband with my bare hands when we attempted the P90X regime (and I would have done it, too, if I could have lifted my arms above my waist). Jillian Michaels can go shred herself. And Denise Austin‘s voice makes me sleepy.
That’s why I’ve decided to hire a personal trainer. I think the dividends will be worth it and I have found the perfect candidate.
Wish me luck!
Photo courtesy of Man on the Street, TW.