Mister and I are in our 4th week of “P90X.” If you’re familiar with this (and you very well may be, as we’re practically the last ones to arrive at this party), then you know the initial period is 90 days of exercise. That’s 90 days, y’all. In a row. For reals.

 

I’m not going to make any grand overall statements about this program, as I’m committed to the full 90 days and I hardly think 3 weeks qualifies me to assess. But I will tell you this: the first week just about killed me. I was so sore I could barely function. I was constantly tired, and fairly depressed. My appetite lagged and I wasn’t sure how I might possibly complete the 90 days. It was pitiful. I was pitiful.

 

But then week 2 happened. And I noticed I wasn’t so sore anymore. The intense tiredness started fading. I was still only hungry enough for 2 meals a day, but it was okay, as I began feeling more like myself. The depression packed its bags and took a hike. Week 3 felt even better.

 

I’m still not crazy about waking up at the booty-crack of dawn to get the day’s workout in, but that’s the way it goes. I’ve even added a hike on a couple of days, and though it’s worn me out, it’s been alright.

 

I guess what I’m trying to say is I’m actually enjoying this whack-job program. So much exercise has the same effect as happy pills for me, so I can’t complain about that either. And though I’ve only lost a single pound, I feel healthier. That’s a good thing, right?

 

I’ll try to update my progress after 2 full months. But even if I forget, I’ll let you know how I feel about the whole danged she-bang after I’ve completed the 90 days. Which I will.

 

It’s funny how once you decide something, it’s as good as done.

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