Look at the smugness oozing from that damned demon cyborg. I say “demon cyborg” because I am convinced, without a doubt, that Tony Horton is not a human. No, no. There’s no way possible that a real human being could even come up with something like P90X. Tony has been sent from some tiny star planet on the outer fringe of our galaxy to ruin my life or at the very least, my body. And after just the second day of P90X, I have a feeling he’s going to succeed.
Okay, I have to admit, I am really out of shape. Between the birth of my daughter last November and being hospitalized for a good portion of the spring, I’ve kind of let my body take on a shape similar to the late Chris Farley. Well, that might be a stretch. Still, my love handles have increase beyond my usual “pinch an inch” or two (or three). For me, this is unacceptable. And by unacceptable, I mean totally annoying.
As most parents can attest, when you have a newborn around the house, you spend an exorbitant amount of time watching late night infomercials. I first caught wind of P90X last year, but resisted the urge to pull the trigger and actually buy the damned thing. But as I spent numerous nights awake watching Tony Horton spew his fitness propaganda, it became very apparent that I was going to buckle. A few weeks ago, my wife and I made a pact. We would buy P90X and get back into shape. Ugh. If only we could travel back in time and slap each other across our sore faces (yes, even my face is sore) for this hasty decision made out of pure vanity.
P90X is delivered via UPS to your house in a little white box. Its unassuming looks lull you into thinking that everything is going to be okay and it couldn’t possibly be as hard as you have been warned about. So, with high hopes and delusions of six pack abs, you open the box, prepare a spot to workout, and pop in the DVD. Without hesitation, Tony Jumps out at you like a rabid squirrel. “Bring it!”, he beckons. He quickly explains what is needed for that particular workout and then you are off to the races. Literally. Tony starts you off with a warm up on each DVD (there are 12 DVDs total in the P90X series) to get your body ready for the pain and punishment that is about to be unleashed like Nanook protecting the head vampire, Max, in The Lost Boys. Immediately, you know you are going to be in some major trouble. Even the warm up is hard. I found myself taking a break during the first fucking warm up. I mean, who does that?
The first DVD went by pretty quickly. It was labeled “Chest and Back” and it did exactly what it promised. My pectorals feel like they have been stabbed. By back is all kind of jacked. To finish you off completely, you end the 52 minute video and immediately insert another 16 minute DVD that’s aptly named Ab Ripper X. Fuck me. Thank the heavens above that it’s only 16 minutes long. Any longer, I would have barfed up my large intestine. I made it through my first workout, though. Pin a rose on my nose.
Like I said before, I am only two whole days into this 90 day routine. Today’s workout was called Plyometrics. That’s really just a fancy word for “I’m going to fucking kill you”. For 58 minutes, Tony has you jumping, squatting, and running in circles. I’m not kidding. He really has you running in a small circle. Doesn’t sound too bad, does it? Wrong. Oh, so wrong. I had to resist the urge to vomit not once, not twice, but four times during this workout. Upon completion, I was completely drenched in sweat, my face was the shade of a strawberry, and I felt used as if I were a five dollar crack whore. But hey, I finished the video. And like Tony tells you repeatedly “Do your best and forget the rest!”. Fuck you, Tony. Fuck. You.
About TJ Johnson
