You see, I have been working out regularly since my diagnosis in April, trying to maintain what little health I seemed to have left. I am able to finish most of my workouts fairly easily at this point. I needed something more.
For those of you who have been living under a rock for the past decade, P90X is one of the most famous work out programs available. It is known to be incredibly hard but get some incredible results. My boyfriend finished P90x3 this past year and talked me into giving it a go this morning. Apparently, I needed more of a "challenge" in my workout regiment. Fuck.
Before I begin this story you should know one thing about me: I like to be in control. I like to be in control of a situation but more importantly (at least to the story) I like to be in control of my body. I don't do drugs because I don't like knowing I can't change my state of being at the drop of a hat if need be. I need to be in control of what is happening to my body at all times.
Let us continue.
To get through the workout I thought I should give myself some liquid motivation in the form of a pre-workout supplement. This was my first time ever taking liquid courage and had no idea what to expect. My boyfriend says it makes him feel like he needs to get up and move around. Awesome- I can handle that. Maybe it'd be like Adderall. NO. No, it was NOTHING like Adderall.
I put a scoop of the "blue-razz" flavor into water and guzzled down this sweet, concoction and I was immediately taken aback to being 10 and drinking Kool-Aid. Maybe it'll just be a something like an adult sugar rush. NO. No, it was NOTHING like an adult sugar rush.
Here I am sitting on the couch, scrolling through Instagram waiting for my sugar rush when BAM! Burning. Burning on the lips, my cheeks, my ears. EVERYWHERE. I touch my face and it makes it worse! I turn to my boyfriend. "I think it's happening..."
He gives me a devious smile, "You feeling the tingles?" Tingles? This is not TINGLES. This is a drug trip gone wrong. I felt like the guy in opening of Super Troopers who eats 2 whole bag of shrooms and starts having a bad trip.
The only way I can describe this sensation was a sunburn gone wrong. My skin was on fire and the more you touched it the worse it got. My skin is already sensitive enough and gets red with the touch of a feather, this burning sensation looked like I was a dipped in red and white tye-dye. I was blochy as fuck.
Not only did it make my skin burn like crazy, it made me have to fart like crazy. All of a sudden my stomach was rumble-bumbling and I had to toot like a mother fucker. Of course, trying to maintain my innocence and lady-like demeanor with my boyfriend present, I was holding them all in.
This only made it worse.
As we were working out and jumping around, apparently all the gas that I had built up from holding all the "bottom-burps" in was getting pushed down.
It had to come out somehow.
While in the middle of jumping jacks, I let out a small fart. He didn't seem to notice. A second one came and this only caused it to get worse. It all wanted to come out at once.
I tried my best to hold it in but it just wasn't going to happen with all the jumping settling the gas to the end of my digestive system. I let a squeal of sound emit from my body. Nate, gave me a cock-headed, confused look and I was so embarrassed all I could do, it the middle of jumping jacks mind you, was to look at the ground and say with defeat, "Excuse me..."
"Was that a fart?!" He asked me with surprise. All I could do was shake my head. "I thought it was just your shoe!"
Wouldn't that have been the normal, logical cover-up. Any average person would have thought to use that excuse. I HAD AN OUT.
No, no. Not me. I was so caught up in the sun-burn "tingle" and disappointment of not getting an adult sugar rush, I admitted to my first fart in front of my boyfriend.
At this point, I was no longer worried about my burning skin as I was about how I was going to hold all the rest of my gas in for the rest of the work out.
Needless to say, I will not be taking pre-workout again.
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