Fuckkk. That's all I want to scribble down right now and, honestly, it sums up everything about day two. However, I want to write this thing within 30 minutes after every BDSM session I have to go through; so I will squeeze out some precious sentences for my throngs of eager readers.
Millard arrives home from work at 5. At around 4 o'clock I started to feel the fear - fear I haven't felt since I was suspended from Junior Kindergarten and had to wait til' my Dad got home from work to tell him. (Not to liken Millard to my father; even though they both have beards and are unnecessarily cute). Each tick of the clock made my new tendinitis stricken elbow (injury from yesterday) swell with anticipation. I couldn't handle the fear - it came down to a decision: fight or flight. The fight instinct was smothered by a lack of available planning - tackling Millard as he got out of his car probably wouldn't solve anything. So, I did what I normally do when the stress of life and expectation becomes to much: I went to Loblaws, pretended to shop, and ate free fried chicken. As I chomped down on my anti-anxiety medicine and pretended to contemplate the advantages of Lavender Lilac laundry detergent versus Spring Morning Dew, I realized the era of procrastination and fear that has thus far defined my life was over. I was ready. It was go time. Goddamnit, I love the smell of fried chicken in the afternoon.*
I blasted through the door with a purpose. Millard could tell I was ready and, oh boy, I could tell he was too - the kid looked like he had fire coursing through his veins and had a look of determination that I can only imagine matched the look Nelson Mandela had as he stepped out of his prison cell. We donned our matching boardshorts, moved the furniture back, took our socks off and slammed down on the play button...together. The first few minutes is a basic warm-up: we easily got through that along with all our roomates calling us 'gay'. Immature peons, this is the work-out routine of the gods. After that it was a tyrannical onslaught of every sort of squat known to man: jump squats, jack squats, rock-star squats, leap-frog squats, monster-tire lift squats, fuck-your-shit-and-want-to-go-back-into-your-mom's-uterus-squats etc. And then you do it all again, backwards. Just fuckin' water-board me; this shit is awful. It was insane, but we made it, and we're better people for it. You know how they say that 'war bonds people together for life'; well, P90X probably bonds you well into the afterlife.
Highlights: I actually blacked-out...and kept going. I blacked-out in the air on a 180 jump squat, landed, looked at Millard empty and bug-eyed, came too, shook it off, and just kept rolling. Epic commitment. I already feel more courageous than almost everyone I know and it's only day two.
State of Mind: It was tough, but we felt really good afterwards. Granted, Millard's eyes were so bloodshot that lil' drips of blood were almost coming out, but, all in all, we rock n' rolled n' only slightly stumbled through day two.
Rating: Did it all with an extra 4 breaks: P75X.
(Millard said he wanted to add to this whenever he can. This is what he sent me, "I have blisters and they suck".)
*Far-reaching reference no one will get.
2 days down - it's practically over. Ha!
ReplyDeleteHey, congrats to you and Millard on taking on P90X. The legs and back workout still gets me and I've done it for almost months now. I am always sore for a day or two but I guess that's a good thing. Are you a Beachbody Coach? I don't see anywhere on your site saying you are. To learn more go to MyHealthyFitLife.com and click on the "Coach" tab. You get discounts on the products and the chance to earn money. I like doing it as it keeps me accountable to working out. Feel free to contact me about it. Stick with P90X. I went from doing 2 total pull ups with legs and back to 82 at the end of 90 days. Bring it!