In my quest to find tolerable exercise, I have asked everyone I know for fitness advice, and at least five people have recommended Jillian Michaels (also know as "The Biggest Loser" trainer) and her miraculous Shred. According to Jillian's acolytes, 30-Day Shred is A. The Greatest! Workout! Ever! and B. stupefyingly hard. I must be a glutton for punishment, because when I saw it available free on demand from my cable company, I immediately tried it out. And you know what? It was the greatest stupefyingly hard workout ever.

The toning and aerobic workout has three levels. I did level one, and just contemplating what level three must be like makes me feel a little ill. Level one is about 20 minutes long, and consists of alternating intervals of strength, cardio and abs. Ostensibly, there are science-related reasons for this -- something about heart rate and muscles and blah blah blah. But the reason I approve of these rotating intervals is that just as you begin to feel you're moments from death, you get to stop and do something else entirely. It is especially nice at the end of the cardio sections, because after those you get to lie down for abs. And knowing that none of the sections last more than two minutes carried me through the worst moments. I can put up with almost anything for two minutes.

Click here to see how Alexa's workout unfolded ...


Upon beginning the routine, a few things were obvious to me. First of all, I really suck at push-ups. Many of the exercises have modified versions, but even the modified push-up proved too much for me. My arms are about as strong and useful as uncooked hot dogs.

Another thing that I discovered early on in the Shred is that I kind of love Jillian Michaels. I can be a little crotchety, and an annoying fitness leader could cause me to boycott a workout altogether. I do not appreciate perkiness, and I abhor the smug. Ms. Michaels, however, was neither of these things. She didn't pretend that squats were fun; she appealed to my sense of logic: "Look," she said, "Results aren't free. If you want to only work out for 20 minutes, you have to work hard the whole time." I appreciate her honesty, but she's not mean, either. She injects little reminders of how close we are to the end ("Only two more," she'll say. "Almost done.") and she makes sure that we know that she knows that this is hard, and that we can do it. She is stern and no-nonsense without being disrespectful.

Immediately after, I was exhausted and sweaty and felt unstoppable. But the next day has been ... rough. Jillian promises that the workout will get you "shredded," and while I assume she is talking about muscle definition, "shredded" is also a very apt description of how I felt when I tried to raise myself from bed this morning.

On the one hand, the fact that I am sore ALL OVER means that this little 20-minute workout really did work my whole body (the only muscles I can find that don't hurt are in my hands and feet). That bodes well for the promise of results. On the other hand, the fact that I am sore ALL OVER means that I am basically unable to move. I wish I were kidding, but bending my legs to lower myself onto the toilet was nearly impossible, and I thought seriously about trying to pee standing up instead. Everything hurts (especially my right ass-cheek: I guess it was really out of shape?), and there is no way in hell I could do the workout again today.

Which, oddly enough, I find disappointing. That's right, I want to do it again. And I will, just as soon as I can raise my arms without passing out.

Alexa Stevenson will be trying out various exercise techniques and documenting them every other week on Lemondrop.