When I realized I'd gained almost 30 pounds in a little over seven months I was horrified, where had it all come from?! Then I started remembering all the delicious (and terrible for us) food my boyfriend Fenix and I had been eating since I moved up and the frequency of which we were doing so. As it turns out his family are eaters where as mine are talkers so I wasn't used to consuming mass quantities of food every time people got together. Also, he has about 20 times the family members I do so if you calculate that by the average caloric intake of any given gathering and divide by the days in the week you get, well I have no idea what you actually get but it results in 30 extra pounds of ah... fluff on me. After spending a couple weeks moping around feeling sorry for myself I decided it was time to do something about this.
Did I choose some sort of polite exercise routine that would lovingly coax those inches away? No of course not, that would be the sissy (and possibly smart) way of doing things. I instead went for the meanest, nastiest, kick you in the teeth sort of regime I could find. P90X. I've heard all sort of things about this system and all of them are terrifying for a chronic lazypants like myself. I'll be doing my first P90X workout in a few minutes but figured I should type all of this while I could still move. I'll let everyone know how it went after, assuming I'm not dead.
Wish me luck!
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