And so it begins...

I get bored.  Easily.  Also, I'm lazy.  Not in my personal or professional life, but in my physical life.  I'm the kind of person that takes the elevator one flight, the kind of person that circles the parking lot looking for a closer space even though there are clearly open spots in the back.  I'm the kind of person that has never joined a sports team, can barely ride a bicycle and thinks my walk from the car to the bar should suffice as an exercise routine.  In other words, I hate physical activity.  So it should be no surprise that I have never really been a fan of the gym.  I’ve done the occasional workout video.  In the past year or so, I have acquired a collection of Jillian Michaels videos: Jillian Michaels Ripped in 30,  Jillian Michaels: 6 Week Six-Pack,  Jillian Michaels Killer Buns & Thighs.  I also woke up more than a few times to Rodney Yee and his A.M. Yoga for Your Week.  But my dedication has been less than consistent.  Well, more accurately, I should say, down right bad.  It wasn’t that I didn’t like the videos either.  Jillian Michaels will kick your ass.  I wasn’t bored and it didn’t actually take that long (30 min. for Jillian, 20 for Rodney).  But I wasn’t committed.  I never actually completed all five days of Rodney’s week long workout, and I never graduated past level two of Ripped in 30.  It just wasn’t doing the trick, or rather, I wasn’t doing it.

But recently I decided I needed to do something.  I feel like that’s how all these diet/weight loss/exercise programs start.  But it is what it is, cliché or not.  I wasn’t in fact gargantuan, but I started feeling like the 700 pound man.  Yes, perhaps I was watching too many TLC shows.  But I did.  In my mind, I already had the fat man’s waddle.  I would ponder life’s mysterious question of whether your waistband should be above or below what I call the donut (depending on size, it could be a donut, maple bar, bear claw, etc.; it’s that annoying belly fat that always gets in the way).  I would look longingly at the piles of clothes I could no longer fit into.  And mostly, I just felt shitty about how I looked.  Well, except that I finally had boobs.  From a negative A to C boobs.  But that’s another story.  So enter Tony Horton.  

I had heard about P90X many times.  My previous acupuncturist would do the workouts every day.  And she was badass.  My hairdresser showed me his after picture.  And he was ripped.  I wanted to be ripped.  I wanted to be a badass.  So I DVR’d the infomercial.  My fiancé and I watched it, and after many discussions (mostly about whether I thought I could actually do it), we ordered the DVDs.  

This blog is about my journey with P90X.  More importantly, it’s about my vegetarian journey with P90X.  I am trying to stick to the nutrition plan as best I can.  I don’t know how it will turn out, and I definitely don’t guarantee that I will make it the full 90 days.  But I sure am going to try.  “Do your best, forget the rest,” Tony Horton.