Should I go to eXtremes?

Yesterday, I volunteered to tie-dye t-shirts with 100 or so first-graders. (And, yes, I am a crazy person.) I was on wringing-out-the-extra-water-and-bagging-in-a-Ziploc duty with another mother, and we started talking about how are husbands are fitness fiends. She runs, I avoid running in favor of the Trek. But we both are kicking around the idea of signing up for Farrell's eXtreme Bodyshaping. I'm not one of those girls who's constantly checking the condition of her backside in the hall mirror, but I could definitely use some strength. It's all the more obvious the older I get. Joel bounces around like a schoolkid when he returns from the gym (only to suffer for it later...old dudes are funny!), and I have to admit I do want some pep in my step. Maybe this would be just the push I need to get back to some sort of disciplined regime. The only part I don't look forward to are the before-and-after photos...I think they're required. I'm not as worried about my physique (do I even have one?) as I am about the corduroy belly skin I'm left with after three very large babies...

I drive by the darn building nearly every day. I should probably just get it the heck over with.

And then I will let you bounce quarters off my six-pack. Later, though, because I have to practice a sincerely pouty face and really bad posture for my before photo...