Every morning for 90 days,
I've committed to working out
with a man on a set of DVDs
who at times seems like the devil incarnate
(ironically, with a god's body),
whom I'm trusting with my life,
as he attempts to whip me into shape.
Some mornings I would just as soon
throw my glass of water
through the computer screen.

He yells at me:
"You can do it!
It's only 30 seconds;
you can do 30 seconds of anything!
Go. Go! GO!!" 

I do it–
even when the sweat runs off my nose,
I involuntarily grunt and groan,
and my legs are screaming at me, 
"Why do you hate us so?"

When I finish,
I am exhausted.

I also feel remarkably alive and satisfied,
which, really, is why I continue.

Every now and then I'm given a rest day.
I so love the rest days.
They make the other days barely bearable. 

It's an unbearable bear of a workout.

By the way, today is day 55…and tomorrow I rest.

Text and image © 2011 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved.