It's been several weeks since I've updated the progress on my journey through P90X. I am currently on day 31 (week 5).
A few pointers to those considering trying this out:
1. Don't rest an entire week during the "rest week." Stick with the program!
2. I'm convinced some of these moves were created by Tony in his bathroom while reaching for a towel on the top shelf of the linen closet. They're so simple, yet repetitive enough to confuse the snot out of your muscles!
3. These results after 31 days are mind bottling. I can't wait to find out what I look/feel like in 60 more days.
I have to say, I am really having fun with this workout. Half of it is making fun of the workout 'actors.' The other half is the camaraderie (that word just took me 3 minutes of trial and error to spell!) between BJ, Kelbe, and myself. I've said this before, but it's the only way to get through this 90 day regimen.
We recently did chest, shoulders, and triceps. Anytime chest is involve, you can guarantee a mass variety of push ups. Never before did I think there were so many varieties! And, every time you do a set, you do max reps. I was able to do 3. I'm not claiming to be in great shape, but I can do upward of 30 push ups on my own. That's how challenging this workout program is.
One particular push up called "floor flys" involved one arm being stationary, while the other arm was on a frisbee. You were supposed to do a 'fly' with the frisbee arm. What that entails is you sliding your arm as far away from your body as possible when you go down, then slide it back into position when you go up. You then switch the frisbee into the other hand and repeat. Again, this is a max repetition exercise. I did 3. Try it at home. But, before you attempt it, do a set of max rep push ups.
As hard as they are, the results are undeniable. I've only been going for 30 days, and I can already see a difference. I still have a long way to go, but I'm enjoying the early success!
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
A New Addition...
We got a puppy this weekend.
It all started Sunday morning as I was driving to church for rehearsal. Like most Sunday morning drives, I was enjoying the early sunrise, birds, and stillnes along State Road 28. As I drove past Delta High School, something caught my eye in a large grass area between 28 and the high school parking lot. Upon further inspection, it appeard to be a small dog.
Worried that it may get run over, I pulled into the parking lot and tried to lure him toward me. Once I got too close for his comfort, he darted off toward the high school. Still not satisfied of his safety, I got back into my car and drove around to the faculty entrance and tried once again to lure him. This time, I tried using part of my breakfast in hopes of coaxing him into coming up to me. Again, I was unsuccessful and he took off toward the middle school. By this time, I knew that if I had stayed and tried to get him, I would be late for church. So, I called Jaime and told her about the find. I knew she was a semi-expert at picking up hitchhiking dogs from the side of the road and knowing the right person to call to take care of the matter. My intention was for her to get the dog to Teresa, our veterinarian, to provide temporary residence while we figured out what to do with the pup.
Funny how things don't always work according to plan!
Jaime was successful in getting the dog into her car. According to reports, she used some ancient Middle Eastern mind-numbing chant to trick the dog into thinking it wouldn't be harmed (actually, I think she just outran it when it tried running away). She was also successful in getting a hold of Teresa to take him in for inspection. However, the unanticipated consequence of the plan was an instant bond between Jaime and Pup. It immediately curled up on her lap and did not want to be part of anyone or anything else other than Jaime. He was absolutely content. His little traumatic experience was finally over. Aside from being a little malnourished and a small rash under his muzzle (most likely from falling from an elevated location), he had a clean bill of health.
Teresa convinced Jaime to take the pup home for the day to feed it and nurture it back to even better health (as it turns out, Teresa had ulterior motives to sending Jaime home to take care of a wounded puppy - as it turns out, attachment makes it nearly impossible to give away a dog!). So, Jaime brought the pup home and he stay in her lap the rest of the day.
Later on, Jaime and I had a discussion as to what should be done with the dog. We had not planned on getting a second dog (depending on whose version you get) until much later in life (perhaps after children enter the picture) mostly due to financial and convenience factors. But, as soon as a dog shows affection and friends begin to encourage you to keep it, there's only one option: add a second member to the family and deal with the ramifications later.
So, the decision was made to keep him (it really didn't take much twisting of the arm because I think Jaime knew all along what we would do).
Teresa proposed we name him 'Delta' since that was where he was rescued. Although a very cute and creative name, I just didn't think that name paired well with Beans...Beans & Delta, Delta & Beans. It just didn't have that special feeling. Furthermore, he would always be associated with that tragic day. After much deliberation and a few suggestions from my students (Beast Master, Tubby Hot Dog, and Cocoa Bear were one of many from which to choose), we agreed on the name 'Hamm.' It was an instant hit! Beans gave his approval and pup (now Hamm) is already responding to it. The acrobatic duo of Hamm and Beans sounds much more entertaining.
To the best of my knowledge, Hamm is a cross between a rat terrier...
It all started Sunday morning as I was driving to church for rehearsal. Like most Sunday morning drives, I was enjoying the early sunrise, birds, and stillnes along State Road 28. As I drove past Delta High School, something caught my eye in a large grass area between 28 and the high school parking lot. Upon further inspection, it appeard to be a small dog.
Worried that it may get run over, I pulled into the parking lot and tried to lure him toward me. Once I got too close for his comfort, he darted off toward the high school. Still not satisfied of his safety, I got back into my car and drove around to the faculty entrance and tried once again to lure him. This time, I tried using part of my breakfast in hopes of coaxing him into coming up to me. Again, I was unsuccessful and he took off toward the middle school. By this time, I knew that if I had stayed and tried to get him, I would be late for church. So, I called Jaime and told her about the find. I knew she was a semi-expert at picking up hitchhiking dogs from the side of the road and knowing the right person to call to take care of the matter. My intention was for her to get the dog to Teresa, our veterinarian, to provide temporary residence while we figured out what to do with the pup.
Funny how things don't always work according to plan!
Jaime was successful in getting the dog into her car. According to reports, she used some ancient Middle Eastern mind-numbing chant to trick the dog into thinking it wouldn't be harmed (actually, I think she just outran it when it tried running away). She was also successful in getting a hold of Teresa to take him in for inspection. However, the unanticipated consequence of the plan was an instant bond between Jaime and Pup. It immediately curled up on her lap and did not want to be part of anyone or anything else other than Jaime. He was absolutely content. His little traumatic experience was finally over. Aside from being a little malnourished and a small rash under his muzzle (most likely from falling from an elevated location), he had a clean bill of health.
Teresa convinced Jaime to take the pup home for the day to feed it and nurture it back to even better health (as it turns out, Teresa had ulterior motives to sending Jaime home to take care of a wounded puppy - as it turns out, attachment makes it nearly impossible to give away a dog!). So, Jaime brought the pup home and he stay in her lap the rest of the day.
Later on, Jaime and I had a discussion as to what should be done with the dog. We had not planned on getting a second dog (depending on whose version you get) until much later in life (perhaps after children enter the picture) mostly due to financial and convenience factors. But, as soon as a dog shows affection and friends begin to encourage you to keep it, there's only one option: add a second member to the family and deal with the ramifications later.
So, the decision was made to keep him (it really didn't take much twisting of the arm because I think Jaime knew all along what we would do).
Teresa proposed we name him 'Delta' since that was where he was rescued. Although a very cute and creative name, I just didn't think that name paired well with Beans...Beans & Delta, Delta & Beans. It just didn't have that special feeling. Furthermore, he would always be associated with that tragic day. After much deliberation and a few suggestions from my students (Beast Master, Tubby Hot Dog, and Cocoa Bear were one of many from which to choose), we agreed on the name 'Hamm.' It was an instant hit! Beans gave his approval and pup (now Hamm) is already responding to it. The acrobatic duo of Hamm and Beans sounds much more entertaining.
To the best of my knowledge, Hamm is a cross between a rat terrier...
and an English pointer...
He has the markings of both dogs. He has the face shape and temperament (leaper, high energy, cuddler) of a rat terrier and has the neck, legs, ears, and tail of a pointer.
Hamm and Beans have gotten along quite well since Sunday. We introduced each other at Royerton Elementary. Although Hamm isn't quite ready for Beans' aggressive style of play, they're making strides. Hamm is getting more courageous as the days go by and Beans is being very patient and a perfect example to Hamm during this time of bonding. I can tell the two will be eventual life-long companions!
As for Jaime and I, we're still getting used to doing multiples of everything - two mouths to feed, to sets of needs to meet, two sets of poo, etc. Keeping up with the poo has certainly proven to be an adventure. It's like walking through a mine field right now in our back yard!
I leave you with a few early snapshots of Hamm. Enjoy!
Sunday, May 16, 2010
More energy...
One of the unintended benefits of doing all this exercise is having more energy. It's one of those things you don't really realize you're improving until you've gotten into the routine. I started noticing the change recently and it has completely altered my desired outcome of working out. Before, the intended goal was to have a body in which I was comfortable, a body I've never had before, and to extend my life expectancy by a half-dozen years. Now, I'm starting to crave the extra energy.
Largely due to how involved my life is. I need that energy to get me through the day. Prior to working out, I would hit a wall every day at about 2:30 in the afternoon. My body just wanted to nap. My eyes became heavy and my mind went numb. It would take me about 15 minutes to get through the same process of letting my eyes shut just long enough until my head started bobbing. I'd snap out of it, shake my head vigorously for two seconds, then be fine for another four minutes until it started over again.
For the past two weeks, those walls have come fewer and further between. I didn't notice the change at first. It just hit me watching the post-PeeNintyEx advertisement for beachbody.com. Several members of the website are giving testimonials as to why they joined. A middle-aged man is only given two words. His choice: more energy. BJ, Kelbe, and I would giggle at how he said it (sounded like a man who hails from the hills of Kentucky). It became part of a running joke between the three of us. Because the phrase stayed in my head, I began thinking about it until it finally registered in my brain.
Hey, this really is giving me more energy!
So now, I am exercising with an added purpose: to gain more energy. The early results have been fruitful. I have a pep in my step, a more positive daily attitude, and I have been able to accomplish more throughout the day than I ever have before. Just this weekend, I got motivated enough to start working on the yard - without being asked! It's amazing!
Largely due to how involved my life is. I need that energy to get me through the day. Prior to working out, I would hit a wall every day at about 2:30 in the afternoon. My body just wanted to nap. My eyes became heavy and my mind went numb. It would take me about 15 minutes to get through the same process of letting my eyes shut just long enough until my head started bobbing. I'd snap out of it, shake my head vigorously for two seconds, then be fine for another four minutes until it started over again.
For the past two weeks, those walls have come fewer and further between. I didn't notice the change at first. It just hit me watching the post-PeeNintyEx advertisement for beachbody.com. Several members of the website are giving testimonials as to why they joined. A middle-aged man is only given two words. His choice: more energy. BJ, Kelbe, and I would giggle at how he said it (sounded like a man who hails from the hills of Kentucky). It became part of a running joke between the three of us. Because the phrase stayed in my head, I began thinking about it until it finally registered in my brain.
Hey, this really is giving me more energy!
So now, I am exercising with an added purpose: to gain more energy. The early results have been fruitful. I have a pep in my step, a more positive daily attitude, and I have been able to accomplish more throughout the day than I ever have before. Just this weekend, I got motivated enough to start working on the yard - without being asked! It's amazing!
Sunday, May 9, 2010
I love it...
...but I hate it! That's such a true testament to Pee-Ninty-Ex. I've completed 7 days, and only 83 more to go! Week one has taught me a few things about myself, the workout program, and staying fit.
I learned that my body can hurt in places I didn't even know existed. I also learned that there is little hope for me to accomplish this routine on my own. Without my two workout buddies, Kelbe and BJ, I am almost positive I wouldn't have made it past this week (it's that extreme, I promise you!). There is no doubt they have been my life support (as well as the comical "Beach Bodies" promotion after the workout). To quote Ace Ventura in a Scottish accent quoting Scottie from Star Trek, "I just can't do it, Captain. I don't have the power!"
I also learned that it takes an extremely vain person to lead the workouts each day. Tony Horton is the definition of vanity. This guy loves himself, and he loves these workouts. You have to when leading such an extreme routine. Just look at this guy (see above)!
Lastly, I am learning daily the affects of not caring for my body. Although I'm still a ripe 28, I am beginning to see signs of age on my body. It's taking longer to walk around the house after getting out of bed in the morning, it's taking longer to heal from injury, and I'm starting to ache (not hurt) in places of which old people talk (joints, back, hips). I truly believe I am helping prolong my life. It's amazing what real exercise and good eating habits can do to a person's outlook. It's already paying off. And I love it!
Pictures will be coming soon on the progress from the X. I just have to get the courage to do so (and permission from my wife)!
I learned that my body can hurt in places I didn't even know existed. I also learned that there is little hope for me to accomplish this routine on my own. Without my two workout buddies, Kelbe and BJ, I am almost positive I wouldn't have made it past this week (it's that extreme, I promise you!). There is no doubt they have been my life support (as well as the comical "Beach Bodies" promotion after the workout). To quote Ace Ventura in a Scottish accent quoting Scottie from Star Trek, "I just can't do it, Captain. I don't have the power!"
I also learned that it takes an extremely vain person to lead the workouts each day. Tony Horton is the definition of vanity. This guy loves himself, and he loves these workouts. You have to when leading such an extreme routine. Just look at this guy (see above)!
Lastly, I am learning daily the affects of not caring for my body. Although I'm still a ripe 28, I am beginning to see signs of age on my body. It's taking longer to walk around the house after getting out of bed in the morning, it's taking longer to heal from injury, and I'm starting to ache (not hurt) in places of which old people talk (joints, back, hips). I truly believe I am helping prolong my life. It's amazing what real exercise and good eating habits can do to a person's outlook. It's already paying off. And I love it!
Pictures will be coming soon on the progress from the X. I just have to get the courage to do so (and permission from my wife)!
Monday, April 26, 2010
P90X
I'm doing it!
Beginning May 1, I will be taking a 90 day journey aboard the Ab Ripper X. Who knows if it will work? From what I hear, this workout is legit.
For years (at least 5), I've wanted three things:
1. a pickup truck
2. an ipod
3. a healthy body
So far, I'm behind on 1-3 of the list. I would desperately love to accomplish something in my early life. I never really seem to finish most things I start. Perhaps I'm afraid to commit to something long-term? Perhaps I'm just lazy? Perhaps I've always been that way? Perhaps it's all the above? But, I'm nearing the age of 30 when the body begins to show signs of 'age-ness'. It's time I stop identifying myself by past failures. It's time I start to care about how the choices I make now affect my 50's and (hopefully) 60's.
I'll be keeping a working blog over the next 90 days with weekly posts and pictures. Let's just see if the pictures on the infomercials are real or 'doctored.' Until then, wish me luck!
Beginning May 1, I will be taking a 90 day journey aboard the Ab Ripper X. Who knows if it will work? From what I hear, this workout is legit.
For years (at least 5), I've wanted three things:
1. a pickup truck
2. an ipod
3. a healthy body
So far, I'm behind on 1-3 of the list. I would desperately love to accomplish something in my early life. I never really seem to finish most things I start. Perhaps I'm afraid to commit to something long-term? Perhaps I'm just lazy? Perhaps I've always been that way? Perhaps it's all the above? But, I'm nearing the age of 30 when the body begins to show signs of 'age-ness'. It's time I stop identifying myself by past failures. It's time I start to care about how the choices I make now affect my 50's and (hopefully) 60's.
I'll be keeping a working blog over the next 90 days with weekly posts and pictures. Let's just see if the pictures on the infomercials are real or 'doctored.' Until then, wish me luck!
Monday, April 19, 2010
The Birth of Richard.
Players, at the sound of my whistle...
There are just certain things etched into my memory that will last for eternity. I spend far too much time trying to understand why those simple snapshots have been selected as memorable. It's a simple set of directions: Players, at the sound of my whistle... Why should that be something my brain decided a long time ago to remember for the rest of my life?
I'm almost certain it had everything to do with a former dream that never saw itself to fruition. It was a fantasy I played out in my mind countless times. I was to be a contestant on a game show designed for kids - "Guts." I would have the opportunity to scale the Aggro Crag to show everyone I had conquered greatness. I would have a glowing piece of the rock as a souvenir. All I had to do to accomplish this goal was to listen to a simple set of instructions: Players, at the sound of my whistle...
Having only competed on the game show in my mind, I never did get to accomplish a childhood dream. I felt a small sense of failure for never reaching that goal. With that said, something far greater in my life began to take shape - a pattern of rule following. And, as the years progressed, I became quite adept at following, enforcing, and later creating rules.
I realized at an early age that if I understood rules, I could become a master at just about any task. As long as I knew the parameters, I could master anything. I felt I had the power to accomplish any task. It was like knowing the answers to a test before it was administered.
With knowledge, came power. With power, came great responsibility. It became my duty to spread the good news. I had to share the rules! But, how? I am just a simple boy who needs boundaries. I cannot do this by myself. Then, one night it happened.
I was adjusting a clock in the bathroom above the vanity. I had just recently brushed my teeth and the counter, unbeknownst to me, was still wet. Needing solid footing to reach the clock, I had to stand on the counter. The instant I applied my weight onto the foot braced on the counter, I slipped and tumbled to the ground. My fall was broken by the floor. My head, however, was broken by the toilet seat. I was out cold. When I came to, I stood and looked at myself in the mirror. It was then, my world changed. I saw him. Amidst a great glowing light (later it was discovered this bright light was just the light bulbs from the vanity), he stood donning a rule tabulate and pen. For the very first time, I was introduced to Richard the Rule Enforcer - the one who would be given the task of enforcing rules. He spoke seven simple words:
Players, at the sound of my whistle...
There are just certain things etched into my memory that will last for eternity. I spend far too much time trying to understand why those simple snapshots have been selected as memorable. It's a simple set of directions: Players, at the sound of my whistle... Why should that be something my brain decided a long time ago to remember for the rest of my life?
I'm almost certain it had everything to do with a former dream that never saw itself to fruition. It was a fantasy I played out in my mind countless times. I was to be a contestant on a game show designed for kids - "Guts." I would have the opportunity to scale the Aggro Crag to show everyone I had conquered greatness. I would have a glowing piece of the rock as a souvenir. All I had to do to accomplish this goal was to listen to a simple set of instructions: Players, at the sound of my whistle...
Having only competed on the game show in my mind, I never did get to accomplish a childhood dream. I felt a small sense of failure for never reaching that goal. With that said, something far greater in my life began to take shape - a pattern of rule following. And, as the years progressed, I became quite adept at following, enforcing, and later creating rules.
I realized at an early age that if I understood rules, I could become a master at just about any task. As long as I knew the parameters, I could master anything. I felt I had the power to accomplish any task. It was like knowing the answers to a test before it was administered.
With knowledge, came power. With power, came great responsibility. It became my duty to spread the good news. I had to share the rules! But, how? I am just a simple boy who needs boundaries. I cannot do this by myself. Then, one night it happened.
I was adjusting a clock in the bathroom above the vanity. I had just recently brushed my teeth and the counter, unbeknownst to me, was still wet. Needing solid footing to reach the clock, I had to stand on the counter. The instant I applied my weight onto the foot braced on the counter, I slipped and tumbled to the ground. My fall was broken by the floor. My head, however, was broken by the toilet seat. I was out cold. When I came to, I stood and looked at myself in the mirror. It was then, my world changed. I saw him. Amidst a great glowing light (later it was discovered this bright light was just the light bulbs from the vanity), he stood donning a rule tabulate and pen. For the very first time, I was introduced to Richard the Rule Enforcer - the one who would be given the task of enforcing rules. He spoke seven simple words:
Players, at the sound of my whistle...
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