So, instead of being poetic today, I thought I would update you all on how my progress is going with P90X.
I started this journey on September 8th, making today the start of my third week. With each passing week, I’ve been feeling stronger. I love to lift weights. Nothing makes me feel more like a woman than lifting weight, okay, that’s a complete exaggeration.
Today was my third chest and back workout, the pushup workout from hell and I did a lot of them on my feet instead of my knees. Now, I’m a girlie girl. I like to look pretty but trust me there was nothing pretty about grunting out full-body pushups. Wait, I take that back. There was this pretty feeling I got knowing one day I will have a nice upper body.
I’ve been trying to do the program as designed. Operative word in that sentence is ‘trying’. Guess what? There is no trying. There is do and do not. So, under that theory, I’ve had not been eating the way I should and I have not completed all the workouts, Yoga X and Kenpo X, give me trouble for various reasons.
P90X comes with a nutrition guide and there is a portion control option. This is the best option for a girl like me—meaning someone who has to look up a recipe for boiling water. So, it should be a piece of cake right? NOT!! I can’t seem to translate those little portion control squares into full meals. I’ve been making better choices but probably not enough good choices.
So, at the start of my third week, I’m all ready feeling like a failure. I know at the end of my 30 days, there will be no difference in my size, weight, or measurements. I can feel it and I can see it---the SAME---is written all over my body. I’m trying (there is that word again)…I am focusing on the numbers even though I told myself I wouldn’t. It’s hard not to. I’m focusing on all the numbers, my clothing size, the weight, the measurements, how many workouts I complete, how many reps, how much weight did I use…and frankly…I’m drowning in mathematics.
Why am I allowing myself to be defined this way? Doesn’t it matter I have a family who loves me no matter what size my jeans read. Doesn’t it matter that I have friends who think I’m the life of the party, whether or not my scale was up or down that day. Doesn’t it matter my husband thinks I’m the best woman on the planet regardless if my tummy is not tight and cellulite has taken an almost permanent residence on my thighs. Yes, it matters, but it matters less than what I think of myself. And myself is fed up with that ‘meatloaf’ that sits on top of my pants when I sit down….and for goodness sake….I’m a vegetarian!!!
I can see definition in my shoulders and arms, a line forming across the top of my body, the parallel lines of my abs are shining through, calf muscles are starting to protrude, and my quads and hamstrings are now letting the world know they are two separate muscles. Good stuff right? I think so. As the saying goes, Rome wasn’t built in a day. At some point, it was under construction…. and so am I…. under construction…mentally, physically, emotionally, spiritually.
P90X is more than push, pull, jump, squat, kick, and stretch. It’s more than 12 workouts designed to get you into the best shape of your life. It’s a torture ride into the soul of a woman (this woman). Do I have what it takes to be the best Reesy I can be? If I do, then the definition of who I am is not in mathematics. The definition of who I am begins with character…an X.
Posts
