Somewhere in the murky past, I did Insanity.

That’s right. The Sean T kind of Insanity, where sweat is pain leaving the body and you do a lot of jumping in the comfort of your own home.

In all the workouts, there’s Sean T, motivating like hell and looking very positive. And there’s a group of devoted fitness friends, huffing and puffing and looking very taut. They’re all standing confidently on the prow of the good ship Sean T, gazes on the horizon.

Except for Shaneeta.

During the workouts, Sean T. strides around urging and shout-encouraging. Fitness Friends grin with glee.

Except for Shaneeta.

Sean T does a fitness double-take when he cruises past Shaneeta, who looks about three seconds from being unconscious. He shouts.


Shaneeta: I want to go home.

In that moment, Sean T looks so shocked, so betrayed, so totally murdered by Shaneeta. And you can see in his mind, the printer has just spat out YOU’RE FIRED in giant, dot-matrix letters.

There is a part of me that loves Shaneeta. That connects so intently with her unabashed id. Shaneeta knows this will be her last workout with Sean T; that they have limited takes and this is a fitness DVD and fuck it, she’s TIRED.

But the seduction of Insanity is so comprehensive that while perspiring profusely in my living room, doing power jacks until my vision is blurry, Shaneeta’s words seem like pure cowardice and I want to jump directly into frame, shove her to the side and shout back at Sean T: I’M FEELING INSANE!!!!!

Instead, I barely get out: (grunt) Oh (gasp) Shaneeta (groan)

I didn’t finish Insanity. I got so close – a few workouts away. But by the end, I hated it so profoundly I was worried it would exceed in damage to my mental state whatever physical benefits I had reaped. 

Sean T, I hope you’re not too disappointed. Shaneeta, I’ll meet you at the bar.