To P90 Or Not To P90

My wife got me P90x2 for Christmas.

For those who do not know, P90x (Power 90 Extreme) is a series of DVDs by “fitness guru” Tony Horton. It has been one the hottest fitness DVDs over the past few years. People rave about the results from these videos. They are difficult, but they will reshape your body. 

Or so they say.

I started the tapes during Christmas break. Now, if there was ever a time to begin a new exercise regime, surely it is in the midst of the Christmas holidays when I immerse myself in a diet of Hood Egg Nog, crackers smothered in port wine cheese balls, and a potpourri of chocolate candies and nougats which decorate our counter.  I justify this diet to myself by spreading the assortment across the day.  Thus, I will claim that I have not actually pigged out because I had a small glass of egg nog, only a few crackers and only a handful of candies for lunch. (My ability to rationalize in such situations is second to none.)

Regardless of the hypocrisy of my lifestyle during these past weeks, I told myself that I would begin. I was dedicated. I was determined.

So, early one morning I woke up, got dressed and went downstairs to begin. Now, I like to exercise early in the morning before anyone in my family awakens. I tell everyone it is because I enjoy the silence in the house early in the morning and it allows me to focus. The truth of the matter is that I do it to save face. My fear is that my son or daughter will see me exercise and do two things: 1) they will burst out laughing as Daddy flips and flops across the floor and 2) they will do the exercises with me and do them BETTER than me. So, for my own piece of mind, I sneak downstairs while everyone is asleep.

The first day was yoga. Ahhh ... yoga. If there was one thing a man of my build is not meant to do is yoga. My ability to stretch is akin to taking one of the action figures you get in a McDonald’s Happy Meal and trying to twist it into another shape. Instead, my arms only move up and down and my legs only move back and forth.

But I get ahead of myself.

So, I move the living room furniture because I want to make sure that I have enough room to move freely and because I know my ability to balance is the equivalent of a drunken sailor after a 48-hour binge. I get my mat, lay it across the floor, and wait for the DVD to begin.

There he is: Tony Horton in a mellow voice telling me to find my inner calm as he stands up straight at the end of his mat. He tells me to close my eyes and put aside all that I have to do for the day. Wait--we just stand? I am excited. Is this the extent of my exercise for this DVD? This rocks! I am the master at closing my eyes and doing nothing. I even try to stand perfectly still just to prove how dedicated I am to these early moves. In fact, I even feel an itch on my shoulder, but I use my intense concentration to ignore it, until at least it just gets too much and I have to scratch. But I do it quickly. And I scratch hard. Then I resume my pose. And I resume my concentration. At this rate, I am sure I will be an instructor in no time.

But then Tony changes. (Curse you Tony Horton!) Quiet concentration is over. He then tells me that we are going to do all sorts of things, and we do. So I begin, following one thing after another. I am amazed both at the instructor’s ability to bend and stretch as well as my equally amazing ability not to bend and stretch. I find myself punctuating my workout with lines like “Yeah right” or “You have got to be kidding me.” But I continue. 

As the workout progresses, I begin to take pride in my little victories. Warrior One?  Nailed it! Warrior Two? Ha — just a little different than Warrior One. Warrior Three — please ... anyone can lean backwards. My anxiety grows a bit when I find myself contorted in various shapes that, if you were to ask me, I would have no idea how I got myself into that position. At one point Tony says something about not wanting to be stuck in such a position if there is a fire. He and his partners laugh on the screen; I think “My God is he right!” I would have to call Medic Alert and say, “I have fallen in Crane Pose and I cannot get up!” Regardless, I am encouraged.  Perhaps I am in better shape than I think. Age is just a number after all.

And then I did a shoulder stand.

My good friend Tony Horton began by telling me to lie on my back, which again produced the same amount of enthusiasm that I had when we began and I had to do mountain pose. After all, I am an expert at just laying down. Yet, then, good old Tony told me to rock back and put my legs over my head. I did. At least it felt that way, but I had my eyes closed so who knows where my legs were? Then Tony — he is such a character — Tony told me to put my legs straight over my head into a shoulder stand. Yeah ... okay, I thought. But to be honest, by this time I was feeling a bit cocky. A bit inspired. So I did. I pushed those legs straight up — straight up into the straightest 90 degree angle that you have ever seen. I mean, I was a perfect L.  And that was it. An L. So I pushed a bit more. I pushed with all my might ... and I formed a upside down J.

Victory was mine!

The video continued on and I interspersed my comments of “Nope” and “Not today” until Tony ended with me sitting criss-cross applesauce on the floor. He wanted me to make “ohmm” sounds, but my “ohmms” sounded more like a panting dog. Yet then the lights faded on the screen and video one came to an end. I had done it. I had completed one video of P90x.  

I stiffly stumbled up the stairs and celebrated with a cold glass of egg nog.

After all, it's the holidays.