I wished for, and got, P90X for my birthday. P90X is this extreme home fitness program, a "revolutionary system of 12 life-changing workouts", according to the website.
Before I got it I read up on it. People said that they thought they were in pretty decent shape until they tried it. That’s what I thought, too. I thought I was in okay shape; I do Jillian Michaels’ Banish Fat, Boost Metabolism or Banish Trouble Zones six days a week. Still I was prepared for P90X to kick my butt up one side and down the other.
Last Sunday afternoon I did the fit test that they suggest you to do make sure you’re ready for it. Push ups, stretches, jumping jacks. The fit test said I was ready.
According to the P90X Lean program I was following, Monday was Core Synergistics, which wasn’t all that bad. I was surprised and decided I must not have tried hard enough. Tuesday was Cardio X, which again, not so bad. Wednesday was Shoulders & Arms. I used light weights and didn’t have much trouble with that one, either. An hour and a half (!) of yoga was Thursday. I did 30 minutes before I ran out of time. The 30 minutes I did didn’t seem too bad.
(All this is foreshadowing with a healthy dash of irony.)
I talked to my brother that night. He asked how the P90X was going and I told him that so far, it wasn’t all that hard. He was stunned. I was, too, and truthfully, a little disappointed.
Friday I did Legs & Back plus the Ab Ripper X. This used the chin bar that I had bought special for P90X. I jumped up in the air, all agile-like, caught the bar, and kind of swung there. I strained and tried and couldn't lift my body, not even an inch off the ground. I could not any more have pulled my chin up to that bar than the man in the moon. I modified the moves as best I could and carried on. A couple of hours after the workout I felt it. My legs were a bit sore and I was tired. All right! That was more like it.
Saturday morning I woke stiff and fairly sore. Saturday’s workout was Kenpo X. I had to Google it to find what that was. I groaned when I saw it was martial arts.
I was surprised by how much I enjoyed it. It was fast-paced kickboxing workout. I felt great when I was done.
By midday I was sore. Bad sore. Every time I went up and down the stairs: Step. “Ow.” Step. “Ow.” Step. “Ow.” At dinner with my parents, I had to literally pick up my leg to cross it over the other one. In bed that night it felt so good to lay still. Only when I went to turn over or move at all, every muscle protested.
Sunday morning was even worse. I winced when I raised my arms to dry my hair. The way my leg muscles felt made me think of work mules after a hard day or five in the field. My quadriceps, my triceps, my glutes, my deltoids, the muscles running down the sides of my back, my neck. All very much, quite sore.
Sunday we celebrated Jeffrey's mother's birthday with lunch out, followed by an afternoon on the couch. The most taxing thing I did all day was reach for the bottle of water on the end table.
So far this week, so good. It's extreme all right.