Nobody likes to admit failure. I failed. This happened three years ago, but a nurse reminded me of the story.
I attempted P90X because the infomercial with Tony Horton (wants to hear a Who) showed amazing transformations of before and after shots and became inspired.
I bought the DVD’s. Then I wrecked my body with a week of workouts my body was not ready to do. While I contemplated the fact that it now took me an afternoon to climb the stairs, I thought:
Rob: “Crap, 90 minutes a day is REALLY quite the commitment if you have a kids, or even just a kid. I better give it up, you know, for the family.”
But if you commit and do it, you get ripped, but it was just not for me. I began to despise Tony.
Seriously, Tony does sets of 20 pull ups and calmly talking while doing it. Granted, the man works out for a living, that’s his job, so he better be in incredible shape, but he seems kinda smug about it.
Then, three years later, I learned others shared my hatred, but not for Tony.
Some of my nurses wanted to submerge one of Tony’s perky, super fit helpers in bacon grease. I’ll call her Brenda.
Brenda looks something like this:
You hate Brenda.
If somehow you don’t, Tony will kindle the dry embers of your hatred into a roaring fire to make you work out harder.
Tony says things like “Look at Brenda, she’s had seven kids! SEVEN! Her last one was three weeks ago and now she has 6-pack abs and looks like a goddess!”
Tony wants you to hate Brenda so you’ll work harder. Tony doesn’t stop there, oh no, he wants you to reeeeeealy hate her. He makes you loathe Brenda with every fiber of your being. You want to get more fit than her so if you ever meet her in public you can crush her. If you saw her in public you’d morph into the Incredible Hulk and heave her into the ocean (yes I know you live in Michigan, it’s a long throw, but adrenalin gives you one heck of a strength surge). You secretly want Brenda to go on a 5 week Oreo and Pizza diet and balloon to 390 pounds. You want to know how Brenda has 90 minutes a day with seven kids.
Heck, you have three kids and whenever you even try to pee you inevitably get a knock on the door with little Timmy informing you he has gum in his hair (which he put there himself) to make his Michelangelo teenage mutant ninja turtle stick so he (Timmy, not Michelangelo) would have both hands free to practice ninja moves on his sister with turtle-power. Unfortunately, his gum-ninja technique didn’t work and now Michelangelo is permanently Big Legue Chewed onto his skull because you selfishly tried to pee. And Tony wants you to take 90 minutes every day?!
So you put in his DVD and here this:
Tony: “Come on! You can do it! Brenda does back flips and runs marathons! Brenda ran her last marathon pregnant with child number five when she was 38 weeks. She went into labor at mile 18. Then she pushed out the baby in a single push shooting the baby into her husband arms, and right after shooting out the baby she did a cartwheel and out sprung the placenta in a graceful veiny flurry. She didn’t even break her stride! Then she won the race while still looking perfect!”
Meanwhile, you counted it a victory to do a third of the workout without vomiting. Check that, you do three minutes until Susie calls down tell you she “fixed” Timmy’s hair problem using the kitchen sheers and a cut patch of dog hair to replace the shorn scalp. Sure Tony, no problem.
Tony: “Oh look, Brenda is using charcoal briquettes and doing Kegel exercises and turning them into diamonds for her children, isn’t she great! Keep those pelvic floor muscles strong gang!”
So, in summary, it is OK to fail from time to time. You just need to start small, maybe not right at the p90X mark. I’m going to work out by going upstairs to get Oreos. Gotta start somewhere, right?
Round is a shape right?
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