A Bikini Body and a Bubble Bath: Week One of the Thirty-Day Shred

Ten gallons of sweat, innumerable grunts and "I hate you, Jillian"s, and four long, hot bubble baths later, I have completed my first week of Jillian Michaels' Thirty-Day Shred. I'm not entirely sure what shredding my body means, but I can only surmise that it will leave me looking bathing-suit ready in just one month...either that or just incredibly sore and ready to sue Jillian for unfulfilled promises.
I first heard about this excruciating workout from a friend at work who's getting married in a little over a month. I figure if she trusts Jillian, so can I. I probably should have taken into account, though, the fact that this friend was already in way better shape than I can ever dream of being. But all I knew was that counting calories alone was not cutting it for me. This girl loves her some food, especially sugary, salty, fried, and generally heart-attack-inducing foods. Forty-five minutes of zumba four times a week just wasn't burning enough calories to account for my love affair with food, so I knew I needed a new challenge. Thus the "thirty-day shred/zumba/now-I-can-eat-whatever-I-want-because-I'm-burning-more-calories" fitness plan was born.
I came home from my weekly shopping trip with the DVD that was going to change my life, a set of hand weights, and an eagerness to exercise. That eagerness quickly disappeared with the first circuit. (This workout utilizes Jillian's 3-2-1 approach: 3 minutes of strength, 2 minutes of cardio, and 1 minute of abs. There are three circuits total.)
The first strength move is push-ups, which I have never been able to do. I can barely do girly push-ups. After struggling through about ten modified push-ups and the rest of the strength routine, we moved on to cardio, which involved jumping jacks and jumping rope without a jump rope. Now this I could do. Although my thighs were screaming "Uncle!" I refused to rest, figuring that since I had half-assed the push-ups, I needed to make up for it and in the process, kill my thighs. Finally we were on the floor for abs. We did a few crunches, and all too soon it was time to get back up and begin circuit two. I have to do this two more times? I thought. I'll never make it.
But I did make it, and I felt great afterward. I did notice, however, that the two girls who do the workout with Jillian, and Jillian herself, looked nothing like I did when they finished. My hair wildly framed my face like a lion's mane, my tank top was soaked with sweat, and I was breathing like a smoker who has just climbed twenty flights of stairs. Jillian and her cronies looked like they were ready for round two.
All I wanted was to sink into a steaming bath, but that would have to wait until after zumba. Monday-night zumba's dances are full of squats and lots of jumping, so surviving the class was a miracle in itself, considering the fact that my thighs shook with each step. I just knew they'd give out on me and I'd collapse in front of the entire class. But luckily, that didn't happen.
Immediately upon arriving home, I ran that scalding bath. I poured in two capfuls of bubble bath, turned on the soothing music of Adele, and let the hot water work its magic on my incredibly sore limbs.

By day three, I was finally able to walk normally again and lower myself into my chair at work without disturbing my coworkers with my grunts of pain. Level one did eventually get easier, so I did level two today. I may never make it to level three, but at least I made it out of level one.
With each lunge, squat, and dreaded push-up, I envision the abs my brother promised I would acquire if I stick with this workout. And then I promptly immerse myself in a much-needed bubble bath.