Day 1 of Week 3 of the P90X regimen had me really pushing ’til muscle failure. And for me, that’s a good thing. I definitely am no where near many others who do this program, in terms of strength and reps — I can’t do a pull-up without stepping stool assistance — but I’m seeing improvements everyday, and I’m pushing myself to go that extra rep or two without losing form or hurting myself. Writing down the results helps, because really, the only competition that matters is the one you have against yourself.
But I am indeed pushing the boundaries of what I can do, physically. I can feel much more energy throughout my entire body, and I don’t think I’m ever tired during the day, anymore. I really have to get my ultra-relax mode on in order to just get to sleep. (And we all know, as I previously posted, that I need to get more of that, not just for the mind, but for my gradual-changing body.) I can feel the physical changes already: standing taller, shirts are a little looser, I have to tighten my belt one notch tighter because my pants are starting to slide down on their own. And overall, I’m just feeling more confident about life in general. It’s amazing how much daily physical activity can boost your spirit. I’ve heard it all my life, and experienced it in the past, but it seems to be working in overdrive with this change in my daily routine.
And yeah, I have a daily routine. It rotates around the food I have to eat — and there’s so much of it that I can’t keep up — and the workouts that I have to do. I’ve done it with food before, while doing medcially-supervised rapid weight loss, but to actually be in the habit of saying “I have to get my workout done at this time” is mind-blowing to me. Two months ago, I would’ve brushed that mentality aside, allowing laziness and comfy couches and blankets to be the only routine I knew on my time off.
But here I am. 15 days of hard work already paying off in fitness, attitude, and energy. It’s still early into this program, but it doesn’t feel like a burden or a chore to keep it up. It feels like battling that old version of me and winning entirely. And that’s a battle that will always be fought by me, but will always make me stronger. And as I continue to push it, my mind is abuzz with imagined versions of myself 75 days from now. I’ll probably still have this spare tire to get rid of at that point, but at least it’ll be a much smaller spare tire.
And if I can do that, it’ll be a triumph over a nemesis — albeit a comfy and warm one from time to time — that’s been on me since I was 9 years old. A two-decade battle upon which I’m finally gaining some ground. You’d be hard-pressed to stop me now. I’m doing real good.