Yesterday morning, the weirdest thing happened to me.
After making myself sick on butter cream frosting for a week straight, I decided I needed to get back on the wagon and check in with Jillian. So I set my alarm for 5:15 and mentally prepared myself to wake up early and work out in my living room.
There are three levels, and in my earlier attempt at the shred I had gotten all the way to the end, but considering my extra 50lbs. of butter cream, I decided to start back at level 1. So I was pumping the iron and doing my jumping jacks and butt kicks, and I got all the way to the end of cycle 2 when suddenly I started to feel nauseous.
It was one of those I-can't-decide-if-I-need-to-throw-up feelings, so I lay down on the carpet to catch my breath. Jillian was still yelling at me in the background, so I shut her off just as cycle 3 was about to start and continued lying on my back, taking slow, deep breaths in an effort to regain my equilibrium and hopefully continue my workout.
After about a minute or so, I rolled over on my stomach. That position felt instantly better, so I rested my cheek on the carpet.
Half an hour later, I awoke with a start.
"Uhhhh," I groaned.
My face was pressed up against the carpet, causing a severe red crease across my left cheek. My arms were spread wide as though I'd been attempting a snow angel; my legs were pencil straight. And, oh yes, I'd been drooling. Gross.
It seemed I had stopped two thirds of the way through my workout to fall asleep on the floor in the middle of my living room. I tried to be angry and disappointed with myself, but I was in too much pain to care. My legs were sore, my right arm was completely asleep, I couldn't turn my head to the left, and my entire face was numb.
Not the sort of inspiring morning workout I'd envisioned. I can't even pretend to know what happened. That was definitely a workout fail.
I suppose if you look at the bright side, it would be that I was no longer nauseous.