My Hunny had been really complaining about his weight lately. So when is birthday came around this month I thought I'd get him something to get him back into shape. Honestly I was just planning on getting him some weights and perhaps some protein powder to make him some shakes in the morning, but then I remembered a fitness program that I wanted to get him about 2 years ago (to get him into shape to return to the police academy).
So he's been doing it for about a week and I already see a difference in his body. Crazy, I know.
So I'm thinkin', "Perhaps mama should be getting some of this P90X action 'cause mama needs a new pair of shoes!". Oh wait, that's not it..."mama need to work off this baby fat!" Yup that's it.
So I did the fitness test required before beginning the program. I just barely squeak by the minimum requirements. I probably could have done better but I'm so lazy.
Then came the jumping jacks. 2 minutes of the most basic exercise known to man.
The first 20 seconds were ok. Then my body realized that I wasn't going to stop and it began to fight back.
I became keenly aware of all my (extra) giggly bits as I jumped and jacked.
My saddle bags began to ache.
I pushed harder and harder...I gave it all I had...I dug down deep...I cringed...an unholy grunt came through my clenched teeth...
Surely I must be close to finishing.
"20 seconds left", my Hunny says encouragingly, "til a 1 minute 30 sec."
What?! You mean it's only been 1 minute 10 seconds?? Nooooo!!!
My body gave out at 1 min. 30 sec.
It was a very humbling moment.
So starting this Friday, Vintage Mama is doing P90X. Prayers welcomed.