It is the end of week eight. For two months, I have been working out with Tony Horton and P90X. This is a record for me and exercise. I am definitely stronger, but I have had a major realization. I am not yet, nor was I for quite some time, in shape. Dang.
Apparently, I have been fooling myself for quite a while. If I may say, I have always been physically strong. My mom and dad are both what they call work horses, and I inherited those genes. I have never had trouble moving furniture, hauling mulch, picking up and chasing children and large dogs. I have never asked anyone to carry anything for me. All of this led me to believe that I was in relatively good shape. Boy howdy was I wrong.
Over the past eight weeks, I have yoga'd and kenpo'd and cardio'd faithfully. I feel better, my clothes fit better, but I am not the lithe young thing I thought might appear after two months. In fact, I have not yet lost any weight. Which tells me two things: 1. I didn't have as much muscle as I thought I did. 2. I had a lot more fat than I thought I did. Double dang.
Here's the thing. I'm sticking with it. Whether it's because I'm 40 or because this program appeals to me doesn't matter. I should say that a good portion of the reason I like it is because I'm pretending to punch and kick people. Grabbing by the collar and knee to the face might be my favorite. Say what you like, but yep. It helps. What matters is that I've found an activity I like that I can do with the multitude of things I've got going on. No gym, no special equipment, no babysitters. Yay me!
So...I encourage you to find your activity. Join me in feeling better. And, you know, kick some bastard in the chest. What could it hurt?