Dear Shaun T,
Where do I even begin? I’ve never felt such cognitive dissonance toward a person. One day I hate you with ever fiber of my being, but then the next I come crawling (literally, because I can’t walk) back to you and your Pure Cardio.
I’m not sure we were meant to be exclusive. I can’t deny the benefits of hanging out with you for the full 60 days, but frankly, I fear that a 20 mile trail run + an hour with you would knock me on my ass until Christmas. So I will have to divide my time. I hope you understand.
Let’s talk about how you continually bring pain into my life. Every muscle hurts. I’m not sure how I engaged my finger muscles last night with the Plyometric Cardio Circuit, but typing this is a challenge. It hurts to breathe. And forget about squatting down to pee.
And don’t forget how you have another Tania in your crew. How could you do me like that? I thought I was the only one. You accepted me, jiggly butt, weak core, and all. And then Tania comes around with her drop-dead sexy body and washboard abs. I can’t decide whether to loathe her or embrace her as a friend. So I watch you two in envy. And seethe. And work harder.
But the end justifies the means, Shaun. I know that you won’t guide me down the wrong path. All of your shouting to “keep going” and “dig deeper” and “not compromise form”—that shouting is out of love. This is for my own good. So forgive me when I curse you at the top of my lungs with what little breath I have left during the workout, but then I want to curl up in your muscular arms and ask for forgiveness during the cooldown once the torture is over.
I also love how easy our relationship is. No equipment is needed on our dates, and max interval training is where it’s at for a runner like me.
Speaking of running. I’m an ultra runner, Shaun. I thought that meant something to you. I thought I was in shape. But no, 15 minutes into a workout I am gasping for air and begging for mercy.
So where do we stand, my dear Shaun? We can’t keep going on like this. I’ve said some things I didn’t mean, and I am truly sorry. Call me a hopeless romantic, but I’m willing to make this work if you are. So for the next few months, will you be my workout buddy?