I fucking hate working out. But I love being high. So, last week I decided to try combining them. I would—and at the same time, would not—recommend doing this.

I’d been sick for a week and a half, and to give my poor lungs a break from the bowls, bongs, and blunts I’d switched to edibles. Getting ready to meet my trainer, I decided to eat half a caramel edible. Maybe it was the DayQuil or maybe I forgot what a real workout with my trainer was like—she’d been going easy on me because I was sick. I also have a weirdly high (get it) tolerance for edibles. I think out of the countless times I’ve taken them there have only been 1 or 2 instances when they have actually had a significant effect on me. For these reasons and half a dozen others, I thought the whole thing was a great idea.

So I make my way over feeling totally fine. Nothing has kicked in and I’m chillin, trying to sike myself up for the grueling hour ahead of me, not even contemplating the fact that I may or may not turn into jell-o. First couple of exercises in I’m still feeling good; maybe a little buzz but nothing major. We do a set of your typical lunges, squats, and warm-ups. At this point I start to feel a little weird, but little ol’ me doesn’t really pay much attention because like I said, I usually have a pretty high tolerance. Next set is ROUGH. She has me do 3 sets of 20 abductions on each leg. Now, if you have never done an abduction (I hadn’t until yesterday either) than you may not realize how fucking horrible they are, but trust me when I tell you, they are HORRIBLE. [Another small side note: Exercise always increases the speed at which anything hits you and it’s intensity. I know this due to a small shroom and bike ride stint my boyfriend and I pulled in Palm Springs for my birthday. But did I think about that as I popped the delicious edible caramel into my mouth pre-workout? Nope.] 

As I’m getting through my first set of abductions, my heart is beginning to feel like it will actually burst through my chest and I may or may not throw up all over the mat. My hands are sweaty, I can’t focus and, as suspected, my legs start to feel like they are truly made of gelatin. My trainer has no idea what’s going on, because, why would she just assume that my excess sweat, cottonmouth, and just blatant aloofness mid-workout is due to the fact that I am high as balls. So she continues to be the great trainer she is and pushes me to go faster, harder. In my mind the thought “wtf is wrong with you” is just on a repeating scroll as I realize that maybe this was not such a good idea. Eventually, I have to close my eyes to do all of the exercises because it’s so difficult to focus and I have to put all my concentration into what I’m doing and not thinking about how fucked up I am.

Overall, it was an odd combination of having to focus on not barfing or fainting but also finding the entire situation totally and utterly hilarious. I couldn’t help giggling to myself a couple times mid hip-raise, knowing that if my trainer knew my little secret she would probably fire me as a client and tell me how dumb I am. I was in a weird place of totally not giving a fuck but also being determined not to give away that there was something wrong with me on this particular evening.

I don’t know how much of the difficulty of that workout was due to the edible and how much of it was due to me being very out of shape, either way the experience was one I don’t plan on repeating. Although I was very happy once I got home and knew I had a great high to ride the rest of the night, I think one more set of anything during the workout would have made me pass out. My final thoughts on the subject are this: joint + run = incredible, edible + intense workout with trainer = not incredible, in fact, a little miserable.