Last week on Facebook, one of my friends made a comment about how tough the new Jillian Michaels yoga workout has turned out to be.

I made a jokey comment that I think the woman must be a sadist, just like my boxing coach on Wii.

Except I was not kidding.

I really think the Mii used as the boxing coach is an SOB. He is mean and tough and makes me crazy. I considered firing him except he is not real and I do not pay him. I feel a little crazy talking about an animated figure like this.

I still hate him.

My quest to lose weight has hit a plateau. I am only 13 pounds from my goal weight and it is the Christmas season. I know I am going to eat any rich and fatty dish put before me. I know I could use moderation and not eat as much.

Instead, I have chosen to amp up the exercise a bit by doing the boxing training modules on Wii in an effort to whittle down my waist. I still do the walk with the dog every day and have added an extra block to up the ante. I am still working the diet with yogurt and fresh fruit. A recent cold has made me up my liquid intake.

I know, I know it is not real exercise. Heck, I could just sit on the couch and do the movements with only my hands. But I am making the effort to sock it to the punching bags and dodge those laser fast tennis balls the trainer shoots at me with what seems like bazookas for hands.

I know there is a benefit to all of that punching and moving back and forth. I need the physicality of this exercise before I jump back into working out with my kickboxing tape. I am trying to make sure I have a good stance and punch that bag as hard as I can. A lot of the tightness that has been in my shoulders is starting to loosen up.

Missed me this time!

But then the trainer has to throw balls at me to make me learn how to dodge punches – the bastard. Just when I think I have the rhythm down, he throws them even faster. And lets not forget the double ball throws he makes every now and again. The beautiful girl who is my Mii should have had several concussions by this time. I would be on the disabled list if I were an NFL player.

Does it get me a break? Not a chance.

What is a girl going to do but just keep coming back for more punishment. After all, my waist measurement has now hit just under 42 inches. With my birthday only a few weeks away it would be great to suddenly be at only 40 inches. That might be a pipe dream but it is my pipe dream that does not involve crack.

Oops. I missed the paddle again.

Just a trainer who seems intent on my destruction. At least I can give it right back to him on the paddle punching excise.

That’s right, coach, I did mean to miss the paddle – a little on purpose.

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