Die, Jillian Michaels, die!

Editor’s note: This is the second in a nearly year-long series of stories and sweat-laden vignettes chronicling the training regimen, pitfalls and pratfalls of two Statesman-Examiner reporters and their teammate. The intrepid trio plans to compete in all three increments of next July’s Valley Girl mini-triathlon at Liberty Lake (Spokane Valley). So, Jillian Michaels, we meet again. Before your DVD workouts I purchased were left to collect dust somewhere behind the box set of Mystery Science Theater 3000 and behind Rocky and Bullwinkle, you almost vanquished me. But, unluckily for you, I happened to have youth and a cockroach’s tenacity to survive your mountain climber routine on my side. For those of you that might now be familiar with Ms. Michaels, she is the tough-talking and toned physical trainer from popular reality show The Biggest Loser. For those of you that aren’t sadists or Navy Seals, her workouts are challenging. Now that I am committed to preparing for a sprint triathlon next year, to honing my body as well as my endurance like the sparkling, keen blade of a katana, we encounter one another again on the field of calisthenics combat. I’m prepared for you this time. I have all I need: towel to mop up the puddle you leave behind after I out-exercise you into a liquid state and water to wash you off my floor. I have even started keeping a journal of my training endeavors, to better track my progress, bolster my strength and exercise (or is it exorcise?) my weaknesses. Below are excerpts, taken randomly from said journal, so that you may witness how I am getting into fighting trim. Tremble, Jillian, tremble. Day 1: Hhhmmm, artichoke and shrimp cheese pizza! I heart pizza. Hey, check it out, a copy of The Never-ending Story! I haven’t watched this movie since I was 12. Hello, familiar butt-shaped couch indentation. Day 2: Mom: You need to wake up and go running. Don’t forget to make me coffee before you leave. Me (in mature, non-whiny tone): But mommy, it’s 4:30 a.m.! I’m too tired. Mom: That really wasn’t a request, you know. Me: inarticulate grumbling noises as I kick off the covers and get up. Day 3: Reality sinks in. Holy Twinkies, it’s only another 350-something days until the Valley Girl Triathlon. I need to go for a run. 30 minutes later: No, really, I’m quite all right, sweet elderly lady eyeing me with trepidation and wondering why I’m panting harder than her Bassett Hound. I prefer not to think of myself as winded, just a mighty wind. Day 4: Jillian, you soul-sucking, brass-voiced harpy, she-beast. I hate you. God, how I hate you. 20 minutes later: I’m sorry I called you names, Jillian. You are beautiful, I’m just mad with jealousy. Please, don’t hurt me anymore. Day 5: Go swimming at Lake Gillette with friends and triathlon partners Beau and Jamie. Feel invigorated and ready for more outdoors activity. Nobody drowns. Put the kayaks in and paddle around the lake. Also remember that kayaking isn’t part of any self-respecting triathlon…unless you happen to be on the rescue crew, helping a floundering swimmer. Anyway, all in all it was a lovely day, cruising about on the water and wondering at the majesty of nature and the serenity that comes with taking care of your physical well-being. Because this is the only body I have and its powers should be used for good. Jamie: Who wants to go to Rancho Chico’s and get deep-fried ice cream? Me: Me! Memememememe…. To be continued. Have you run a triathlon? Do you enjoy exercising in the great outdoors? Share your story and offer my team suggestions and me by emailing sophia@statesmanexaminer.com.