a world of hurt

In the interest of staying healthy, I occasionally entertain the idea of "working out." Problem is, I don't enjoy most activities that fall under the large umbrella of "exercise." I'm embarrassingly terrible at most sports. I mean, I suppose I'm at an age where there must be people who have become equally as terrible, but I'm too lazy to search out the options for this. I hate running. Rach tried to get me into it on multiple occasions, and I just can't do it. I don't mind going to the gym, but without a partner I wind up never making it and regretting paying for the membership. I like walking, but in terms of exercise, I feel like I should do something a little more strenuous than the mall walkers. In the last two years I have discovered a love of yoga, but H and I decided we would do it together at home instead of paying the insane class costs, only to find out that according to H "the roof is too low" and that we'd need to get the hardwood in upstairs before that was really an option.

Fast forward to two weeks ago. There are a few of us at work who for various reasons are there everyday til 5. The trend of P90X seemed to be going around, so we figured we'd give it a try. It had the elements I need - different things everyday, cardio and weights and a partner to do it with on most days. It also had a lean program option, which appealed to my girly self. We even agreed that we'd have a standing deal that whoever didn't stick to the program on our alone days would have to buy the other person lunch on Fridays.

Well the first day was "Core Synergistics." We had a great laugh at the never ending stream of warnings that precede each of the tapes, one of them saying something to the likes of "If you don't meet the minimum fitness requirement, P90X is not for you." Well, within 30 minutes I was rolling on the floor laughing at my inability to do anything, between giggles stating that "I don't think I meet the minimum fitness requirements!" We finished up to the best of our ability, and somewhere out came my stubbornness deciding that "dammit, I can do this."

Before I got too attached to my decision to see this ridiculous program through, I thought I'd look up the minimum fitness requirement. They might as well say if you can breath, you'll be fine. 3 push ups from your knees, an attempt at a chin-up and a stretch and jump test that anyone with regular mobility would have no problem with. OMG. 3 girl push ups is supposed to get me through AN HOUR of push-ups? And not just regular push-ups, all sorts of bizarro variations to make them harder than regular push-ups. Oh lord.

I made it through day 2, and day 3 and all of week 1. Turns out that first day is the hardest of the week. And, I felt great! Everyday I was waking up with energy, instead of cursing my alarm clock like usual. My partner however, had decided that it was maybe just a little too much and jumped ship, opting for a different program to follow. Luckily, H decided he needed in on the fun, and joined in for week 2. Week 2 did not see the same benefits in energy as week 1. In fact, week 2 became increasingly more difficult.

Today was the first day of my week 3. I'm not hurting nearly as much as I was, and I'm starting to notice some improvement in what and how much I can do. However, my muscles are so tired it's ridiculous. H and I are sad sad sights. Today we're hobbling around like 80 year olds just out of hip replacement surgery. Not going to lie, I'm totally looking forward to my recovery week next week, even if it is just 6 days of slightly less intense working out.