Beastanetics. Now I say I love Beastanetics, but it's probably more accurate to say I love having done Beastanetics. There are some nights I lay awake, dreading the next morning's 8am workout. But once the workout is over (just 50 minutes after it starts) and I've lost four pounds of water weight and am scarlet in the face and gasping for air . . . well, then I feel virtuous, strong, and famished.
Being a beast hasn't caused me to lose a bunch of weight or anything (remember the "famished" part), but I am way stronger than when I started. I can do some push-ups now. I can run up the stairs without panting, my bingo wings are slightly less flippity floppy and my ass is a lot tighter.
Everyone in the class is extremely nice and supportive, even though I'm pokey and old. Tim Haft, the guy who runs the class—and Punk Rope!—isn't your typical drill camp instructor type. He's kind and never makes you feel like a spaz, even when you know the truth.