P90G

I’ve been needing to resume a regular exercise program. With the many unplanned events of the summer, a whole bunch of important things fell by the wayside, and that was one of them. With some trepidation, I’ve decided to restart a certain intense fitness program, for the simple reason that I already have it in my possession.

Originally, I decided to re-name it P90L, with L for Lazy. But this program is so intense that even 2 minutes a day is way above laziness. At the same time, there’s no way that my version could be called Xtreme, either. So I’ve settled on P90G, for Gentle.

Day 1: (November 7, 2013) 20+ minutes and I feel great! Why didn’t I start doing this a long time ago? I can hardly contain my rush of energy.

Day 2: Yesterday was arms, today legs. That’s good, since I can hardly lift a glass of water. All went well until I got a large splinter while leaping around in my bedroom. All efforts to retrieve it were in vain. 20+ minutes again, and feeling so alive, except for my throbbing foot.

Day 3: The splinter has become infected, and putting any weight whatsoever on it is proving extremely painful. Oh well, it’s not like I could walk anyway. Thankfully, it’s Sabbath, so I don’t need to worry about exercise. The actual program calls for a day of rest anyway, and it just happens that my day of rest coincided with day 3. Lucky me! Maybe by tomorrow I’ll be able to not only walk, but lift my arms high enough to eat.

Day 4: Hey, I can walk! It hurts a little, but how nice to have that shard o’misery out of my foot. Today was plyometrics, which is basically jump training. I think I’d better confine plyo to Sundays and holidays, so that when I can’t lift my head off the floor afterwards it doesn’t affect work. About 13 minutes in, the workout clock got stuck. I’m pretty sure it was only counting off about 3 seconds per minute.

Workout guy: You’re doing great! Go even higher!

Me: ***whump***

Workout guy: Ok now! Double time!!!

Me: I’m pretty sure that means half as many as before.

Staggering grimly, I gritted my teeth and kept going. I think it’s mean to make a one-legged man be part of the workout team on the video, so I can’t even feel sorry for myself. Will 20 minutes never end?

Suddenly, I glance at the clock. It has been 22+ minutes! I made it! And in case you wonder what all these +++ mean, it means + about 3 seconds. Not that anyone is counting.

I hope I don’t get any splinters in my nose down here. Prone is the new perky. Go team. I feel great. Really. Room fading. Blackness. Only 86 more days.

Day 5: For some reason my legs are beyond sore. Fortunately, today was mostly upper body. All the rest of the day, I keep finding myself frozen into weird stalagmite formations. I think tomorrow I’d better just work my abs. It’s the only part of my body that’s still functional.

Day 6: CANNOT MOVE HELP ME

Day 7: What can I do? The only thing that doesn’t hurt is my eyelashes, and I’ve never heard of a workout for eyelashes.

Day 8: Slightly better, I suppose. Maybe I’ve finally turned the corner, but I’m not going to stop and find out.

Day 9: Not too bad, actually. Did a combo of arms and abs today. My clothes all still fit the same, but I’m starting to feel better overall. Still have a nasty habit of waking up about 0430, but that’s not surprising. Time changes are stupid, and yes I am talking to you BENJAMIN FRANKLIN!

Day 10:  I thought this break would never come. Only 80 more days until I finish this round of torture, and start something even worse! (I’m considering upping the ante to P90M, for “Mediocre”.)

PS I have taken some “before” pictures, but there is no way they will ever see the light of day until there are some “after” pictures, too. So don’t even ask.