Love to Hate Her: Denise Austin

I hate her; I do, but I have to admit, she may be my only salvation.
Months of trotting my largess around parks and on my treadmill have amounted to virtual squat, but just over a week of Denise Austin's kickass exercise death match and I've lost 10 pounds.

Yes, I said 10 pounds.

Every time I look down at my bulging stomach I am shocked that it is actually bulging less. I have LESS of a bulge! There is hope left in this world yet.

Just to make sure my eyes aren't deceiving me I grab a hold of the offending blubber and heft it to see if my hands can make me understand what my eyes can't believe. It's shrinking :) :) :) !!

Getting here has not been pretty and more ugliness must ensue. MUCH more ugliness.

I only do the videos in my basement, because, God Forbid, one of my neighbors were to catch site of my hulking form flopping around like a sopping wet whale out of water. I wouldn't want to make them have to move out of town, or worse - attend therapy.

So while I struggle to breathe and heave my laden thighs just one more time - Come on, you can do it! - onto that step, I hate her, but I have to love her too. She's like the mother-in-law you'll never be good enough for, but you keep trying so damn hard anyway.

I admit, I don't do half of the exercises. "I'm not even trying that," I frequently think while jogging in place and fighting for air as I watch her skinny, fit butt prance around, but one day I just might get there.

So, though it pains me to do it, I leave you with an Austinism: "Strong bodies strong minds, because you are worth it."

I may have to start muting the TV.