So I decided to test that Ragin Cajun Trainer everyone’s been buzzing about. Grabbed my dusty workout mat and fired up their website, thinking it’d just be another preachy fitness gimmick.
First Impressions & Setup
Saw their 3-minute quiz promising “personalized sweat sessions.” Clicked through questions like “How many pushups can you do before crying?” and “Pick your poison: burpees or mountain climbers?”. Two minutes later – boom! This program spat out a “Swamp Beast” workout plan labeled for “busy dads with weak knees”. Nailed me perfectly.
The Awkward Trial Run
Played their tutorial video on my phone propped against a water bottle. Coach Boudreaux’s voice boomed: “Y’all gotta shake like gumbo in a hurricane!” Tried those crawfish squats he demonstrated – legs wobbled, almost face-planted into the carpet. Misjudged how little space my coffee table required. Knocked over a fern during the “alligator crawl” segment. Wifey walked in, snorted, and filmed my struggle for her group chat.
Sticking With It
Gave it a real shot for 10 days straight. The good:
- Those 15-minute workouts actually fit between kid drop-offs and Zoom hell
- Surprisingly didn’t hate the Zydeco workout tunes
- Started craving spicy food constantly (blaming the branding)
The frustrating:
- Zero guidance on fixing my terrible form until I tweaked my shoulder
- Burpee modifications still felt like medieval torture
- Their “quick fixes” section answered questions with more crawfish metaphors
Where It Landed Me
After 3 weeks? I’m no bayou athlete, but my dress pants zipped without the lying-down trick last Sunday. The real kicker? That first morning I caught myself doing “gator breath” diaphragmatic breathing during a work crisis call. Guess some voodoo stuck after all. Still eyeing that jambalaya recipe they keep emailing though…
