Possibility of passing out?

Okay, so there are a million pros to marrying someone who loves to workout. A million. It also helps when you’re semi-fit to begin with, because then when you’re pressured into trying out ridiculous workout regimens because that’s one of the ways you’ll spend some serious quality time together, you aren’t too far behind.

Think again, folks.

Tonight marks the officially first day back to an intended regularly scheduled fitness routine. I used to be good at it (thank you, Renee). And I used to feel pretty confident in my ability to lift, run and wear myself out. But, now that planning a wedding, moving, getting married and taking two beach trips have happened, it’s almost been a solid three months since my heart rate spiked due to something other than anxiety.

So, tonight.

Mike joined this nonchalant little cult some refer to as CrossFit to “get in shape for the wedding/honeymoon.” (insert guffaw, here). Anyways, because it’s a circle of muscle-crazed accountability partners, they still keep in touch, or as I would call it, brag about the latest and most ridiculous ways they’ve broken a sweat. The latest is called something stupid that I can’t remember as I write this and know Mike won’t respond to my text in time, so in my mind, I just keep thinking of it as the “100+ reasons to just start running again.”

Basically, we’re going to run a mile, then we’re going to whip out 100 pull-ups (should be good since I can only do ONE chin up at a time), then 200 push-ups (on my knees) and THEN 300 squats (probably the only thing I am confident in… ahthankyou junk in the trunk). And then somewhere in a moment filled with a false sense of confident elation, I decided to add on 100 sit-ups… just for fun… and maybe a little bit because I have a pooch). Then, once I think I’ve really accomplished something, I’ll still need to round things out with another mile run. Clearly.

Okay, give me a second while I go dry-heave my breakfast.

So, we’re starting this tonight. And, we’re making it happen weekly… potentially every Thursday, but at least once a week. The goal? Well, I am not really sure I have a goal, other than to be able to do it and survive and be able to actually do it again next week, but technically the point is to see how fast you can do it. So, I am guessing we’ll see how long it takes us to do it tonight and judge the success rate of this same goal for the future. No ultimatums at this point. Too soon to tell, especially since I will probably only be able to push out increments of ten and need at least a minute and a half between each set. Yes, I am prepared for Mike to leave me in the dust and already be showered, shaved and marinating on the couch before I have finished my pull ups. He’s done it before. Run the Reagan 2009. (I am definitely still a little bitter).

The chances of this being the only workout I do in the course of a week? Ehhhh…. A good place to go double or nothing. But… BUT, here’s to hoping this sparks a new sense of camaraderie between me and my hunky, 8-pack hubby (and get me back to my pre-honeymoon bod) and a renewed motivation for fitness. (weak smile). With a recent trip to the beach where my sister-in-law and I gaped at just how many non-pregnant women looked pregnant, including ourselves after a couple of beers and a peanut butter sandwich, it’s got to be time to hunker down and hit the gym, or at least the pull up bar in our guest room.

Wish me luck, and wish me still living! Results to come.