Not to sound too “Kathy Bates in Waterboy”, but the statement above is how I’ve felt waking up the past couple of days. That man has no soul.
Yes, it’s that time of year again, and I’m giving this P90X thing another run. Last time, for me, it was more like P32Regular, but THIS time. OHHHH BOY, THIS TIME? I’m going all in, baby.
I’m currently on day 4. “Sniffle, sniffle….(sob a little)….sniffle…Am I ripped yet?”
My plan is to post up my before and after pictures for you guys to see my progress as I go along. HA! That was funny. My plan is actually to wear shirts in all photos for the rest of my live long days. Hallelujuah. Amen.
So, it’s July in Atlanta here in 2011. It’s hotter than (insert analogy here) and it’s too late for me to try to get in my neighborhood Men’s swimsuit calendar, so what gives?
Well, I hadn’t seen one of my neighbor buddies up at the pool yet this year until Saturday, when he walked over to Mary and I to chat. As he was talking…I’m not saying I was intimidated by the shape he was in, but I found myself searching for something…ANYTHING to cover my hideous-ness from the free world. I ended up nearly putting on my wife’s cover-up until she tackled me and put an end to that. As it turned out, He was a P90X-er.
Anyway, here we are. Day 4. It’s on like Donkey Kong.
Sorry Tony, but when I finish working out tonight, I’ll have my own brand of recovery drink.
Life Don’t Rhyme,
Greg “Manchild” Owens
