Day 8 (6 & 7 were rest days): Chest and Back and Ab Ripper X

Today, I woke up trying to be happy and positive about my lot in life. Look on the bright side, enjoy everyday, be one with the universe in all its infinite beauty et al. I grabbed a steaming cup of coffee, ascended my stairs in my moldy cancer-inducing dungeon of a basement apartment, and was immediately assaulted by bitter cold, cloudy skies, and the all to familiar odour of homeless urine. This would be the best part of my day.

Fast forward three hours: I am in my underwear, hopelessly attempting to put in some hours for my LSAT prep, and watching Sportscentre for the fifth time around. "Ahh good try Kypr, 5 times now and you still sound like an idiot". I either can look down and trudge through some LSAT q's, look up and see Kypr drooling on an over-priced shirt, or left to my ever-growing pile of dishes. This would be the second best part of my day.

Fast forward to just after P90X: We are finished, but I feel no sense of pride, only the sting of sweat dripping in my eye and the crystal-clear epiphany that I am fucking weak...as shit. It was ridiculous folks; just downright pitiful. Call it a moral victory if you please, but that's about as meaningful as saying there is a "winner" in a Leafs'/Oilers' game. It was like all the school-yard teasings and esteem-shattering occurrences in my life were concentrated into one 60-minute video. "Alright, time for diamond push-ups, I am going to do 30". "I can't do one; not now, not ever and I think my ears are bleeding". I absolutely hate the P90X guy, he's so smug and unnecessarily peppy and always hitting on hot sweaty girls. I have no energy, hate myself, and have no hot sweaty girls near me; only Patricia, which is what I named Millard's sweat-soaked beard. That thing must absorb at least a gallon of sweat each workout. This was the worst part of my day.

Highlights: Patricia looked gruesome today. My apartment floorboards aren't nailed in, so they float around as you slide and grunt on them. I think it adds a new extreme(ly sad) dimension to the whole thing. 

State of Mind: I have a fierce eagle-like commitment to this whole thing. I am not giving up on these home workouts - although, I may just switch to the Chuck Norris tapes. Kidding - I have a rock-solid, unwavering determination to see this thing through. I just don't think I'll look that good after.

Rating: P32X