Tonight, Nathan wanted Corrie & me to do yesterday’s workout.

Um, seriously?

Honestly, it was the push-ups that had me cringing. I hate them. With a passion.

OK, burpees are worse (because the push-up is incorporated into the *(@#!)(#$&!*# burpee).

Nathan gave us an “out.”

We could do the full workout—or the half. What would YOU do?

Corrie & I paced ourselves through the half-mile run around the warehouse.

Back inside, Nathan suggested doing 10 sets of five pull-ups, 10 push-ups and 15 squats—for a total of 50 pull-ups, 100 push-ups and 150 squats. That was an excellent idea.

Could you imagine doing 100 push-ups straight? I would be taking 20 breaks to get that done.

I noticed that I’m actually improving at the pull-ups. Make no mistake: I still can’t do one.

But I can jump up, hold my chin above the rings and slowly lower myself to the ground. People, it hurts!

Push-ups are the devil. I need to pump up my pecs because I’ve been slacking.

The squats were where I made up for lost time.

During my last set of push-ups, as I focused all my energy on the river of sweat forming beneath my head, I swear I saw stars.

They were pretty ...

That last half-mile run was tough, but it was a breeze compared to those pesky push-ups.

I guess I should be grateful. We could’ve done this workout instead: