Blobs of jello dangle from my upper body. My workout was good and I pushed to the breaking point. At times my body would involuntarily collapse and I'd gingerly get up and shout, “I can do 1 more!” And I would, as if the verbal go ahead could by itself spiral wobbly limbs into action. I guess that’s the power of your mindset.
Of course, it likely helped that going into the workout I was so dang frustrated that I didn’t want to take crap from anything, not even myself, so I didn’t. And Ab Ripper was amazing (simulate sing-song voice in your head.) It hurt, I hurt, but I came out of it feeling stronger and sexier than I went in, and that’s what this is all about, when added with the amazing sense of accomplishment when you're through.
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Monday, March 29, 2010
Fat Fueled Psycho
Sirens wailed in my head as I looked at the enormous figures sprawled across the page. I can't believe I've let myself go this far. I guess the ghastly bumps rising from my thighs and my ever expanding belly should have been a clue, but with unconditional love from my husband and best girlfriend, I’d believed I was amazing and perfect just how I was, but I knew the truth. I used their comments to buffer my internal honesty gauge, adding a few extra points to the "How hot am I" scale and ignoring the subtle changes in the mirror.
In an insane attempt to regain the body from my first year in college, I made the decision a week ago Sunday to begin an intense workout regimen known as P90X. With firmly pursed lips, I read my nutrition and workout guidebooks, took measurements and weighed in. I’ve got to get my body back.
Fat fueling my motivation, I mapped out the grueling journey in the 90 days ahead. I know their will be days when motivation is low and temptation is high, and days when I have energy to spare. Still I cannot shake the curious question; what will tomorrow bring?
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