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These are my thoughts, yo.

Thighs of Fury

jasmine banks

So...for the last 8 days Rusty and I have been doing P90X. And I have already made Jasmine and my sister promise me that if I ever become one of those people who blogs and talks incessantly about how jiggly and squishy I am, how I amd so proud of myself for eating only 3 pieces of broccoli and a cube of cheese for lunch, that they will slap me and make me eat cake. So rest assured, this will not be one of those posts. This is more like...how Sadie does a workout plan. I don't know if any of you have ever done P90X. And honestly, I'm not even sure what the name means (besides the obvious 90 meaning 90 days and X meaning X-treme as Tony Horton points out every....35 seconds) but this stuff is crazy. I mean, total crazy. Like, yesterday? We were supposed to so something like 100 pull ups and push ups over the course of an hour workout. I can't even do 1 pull up. Or push up. So most of the hour I spent laying on the floor moaning about how it HURRRRRRRTTTSSSSSS.

My favorite day is yoga. The yoga moves, the pain and the breathing and the focus, they remind me of labor and it makes me think that if I can make it through having a baby, I can make it through this stupid chair pose.

And you know, that Tony Horton dude is a nutcase. He stands there in the front, all tan and shiny with his hair plastered in a side-parted helmet and I think to myself "How much gel does he use everyday?" And it really annoys me when we are all grunting and swearing and dripping sweat onto the new rug, and he stops after two squats to go check on his "kids". Right. Like the other demonstrators don't know what they are doing. Tony, you probably can't even do thirty seconds of jump squats. You and your muscles are probably not even real, probably just inflated. Or photoshopped onto him.

And so while I am supposed to be working out and feelin' tha burrrrrnnn I am totally distracted by Tony Horton's shiny hair. And his insistence that he only does 1/3 of the workout. And how he keeps hitting on that one demonstrator. And trying not to laugh while Rusty attempts The Bound Triangle. And reminding myself to text Audrey and find out if yoga makes her gassy.

Today we did plyometrics. The Horton Proclaimed mother of all workouts. It's basically a bunch of jumping and squatting and thigh torture. And then, in the middle of this thigh torture is a little gem called The Military March. I like this move. I can do it. It doesn't involved jumping or squatting. Basically you hold all your limbs stick straight and raise opposite limbs. So when you're left arm is up, your right leg is up and vice versa. You alternate for a minute and then move on to something else. It looks something like this.

You see, at the end of the minute your thighs are on fire. But I like this one because while my leg is stuck out straight in front of me, I can look at my muscles, all freaked out from being battered, and think to myself "Hoo Boy! I have sexy legs!"

So yeah. P90X. Its kind of terrible, but Rusty and I are enjoying working out together. And I really enjoy the fact that I am really really hungry after working out, and that food tastes so much better. And in fact, tonight I ate like 6 chocolate chip cookies after dinner because you know what? My thighs deserve it.