Who hasn’t been snuggled in bed, changing channels, and seen the P9OX commercial. Now, if you’re one those extraordinarily awesome humans that don’t have a TV in your bedroom because you believe in using your bed solely for sleeping and adventurous sensual pursuits, let me bow to your greatness and kindly suggest that this blog isn’t for you. It is now beyond obvious that we have nothing in common and the only reason your reading it is to simultaneously take pity on me and laugh at my bleak, mundane, middle class existence. You will do all this while leaving a pithy comment pointing out my flaws and mentioning that you read The New York Times and not just the Fashion & Style section, live on a localvore, plant-based only diet of sustainably harvested, free range, organic poison ivy (very fiber rich and as you can imagine an excellent colon irritant) drive a solar-powered transport pod that you have mixed emotions about because you think you maybe raping the sun and use only when you absolutely can’t walk or your fair trade purchased Fred Flintstone foot powered car is in the shop. Yes, you are better than me to infinity and beyond. So, get off my blog. Sorry, had to get that out-of-the-way now moving on to P90X.
So, there I am in bed last week sweating even with the A.C. and a fan on me. Curse you humidity! It’s so hot I’m forced, in an effort to fend off sleep stench, to wear deodorant to bed and right after I’m done trying to angle the fan on me to get more of a breeze I see another P90X infomercial. I was getting more than a little hooked what with that borderline creepy Tony Horton guy promising me a much needed life transformation. If you gathered up all the 35 and over women in a Target on a Friday afternoon, lined us up and asked the employees and non middle-aged female patrons who was in the most desperate need of a life transformation I would win in a landslide. (Blame my capri track pants, off brand tennis shoes and 32 ounce Diet Coke. The good news if the same question was asked in a Wal Mart I wouldn’t even make it in the top 10,000.) Then as if the good Lord was speaking directly to me I went to the library the next day and there it was in the DVD exercise section a whole set of the P90X! I grabbed those bad boys off the shelf, paid my library fine so I was allowed to check out and rejoiced. (Of course, I get the surly librarian who gives me attitude about paying in change. So just to put her dewy decimal system into a further bunch I counted out $1.21 in pennies.) I was so excited as soon as I got home I began “my journey.”
I was ready to be ripped, to bring it, and get my muscle confusion and plyometrics on. One week later that icky Tony Horton dude must die or at the very least be forced to spend a week with any mom. Because although I can’t do his workout I doubt very much he could handle the daily Mom Boot Camp drill.
Let’s begin with the Arms and Shoulder exercise plan. I go to the store and buy two 20 pound bags of ice. I unload the ice placing one bag on my shoulder, the other under my arm (ignoring the extreme pain of arm pit ice freeze) and while balancing the 40 pounds of ice I grab another bag of groceries with my free hand, then hoist up a gallon of milk and bleach for a duo bicep/tricep curl, all while closing my truck with a full leg extension (feet pointed) and cardio sprint into the house to lessen any ice meltage. I repeat a variation of this move four times while I bring all the groceries in without any help because my kids are too busy undertaking a search and rescue mission to liberate the newly purchased ice cream sandwiches from their box. My Leg and Back workout is equally impressive. I suggest Tony try the squat, squeeze and throw. This is when you bend over to pick up a combination of My Little Pony’s, Polly Pockets, Legos, and other assorted very small toy pieces and then throw them into their correct plastic bin while focusing on your core. It’s a multi muscle group sequence – Inhale, squat, pick up toy, squeeze butt checks, grab toy, exhale and throw, come to a full standing position and repeat 100 times. My signature Cardio is the Chase Kid move that like P90X can be done almost anywhere and is most effective at a shopping mall. It goes like this – you are out and about and you look away for 10 seconds to read a price tag, The next thing you know your kid is gone. Your heart instantly starts beating out of your chest, to achieve max cardio add in running as fast as you’ve ever hauled ass in your life as you tear madly through the store looking for your child who is hiding inside a clothing rack and giggling. Muscle Confusion, the foundation of P90X, is simple to achieve all it takes is two kids and two car seats. It’s lift, stretch, buckle and repeat. To add intensity to the workout the kids can scream, kick or do that odd back arch, slither thing making it close to impossible to buckle them in and forcing your body to stretch, lift and flex in ways you never thought it could.
So, Tony try this and add in having to cook dinner, help with homework, do laundry (that’s at least 100 trips up and down the stairs), host play-dates that include the use of play-dough, all while doing your kegels because peeing on yourself when you laugh and sneeze is really getting old. To up the degree of difficulty and to really feel the burn do all of the above with a positive, loving and nurturing attitude or at the very least without screaming so loud the neighbors can hear. When you can master this workout then maybe I’ll give P90X another try. Until then – bite me!
***For all things wonderfully Snarky go to www.snarkygear.com where you can find the Snarky line of clothing and accessories. (Snarky T’s anyone?) Plus, there’s my book – Snarky in the Suburbs Back to School. (Click here for purchase information.) Here’s a little ditty about it: The Spring Creek Elementary School PTA board (a coven of Mean Moms dressed in Uggs, yoga pants, and dermal filler) is up to no good. Wynn Butler (middle-aged, uncool, and not bringing sexy back) is determined to find out what’s going on. With help from her two kids, a Roomba vacuum turned mobile surveillance drone, and a few good friends, Wynn launches a covert investigation that leads to the “mother of all revenge capers” at the school’s annual Fall Festival. If you’ve ever fantasized about smoke bombing the idiot parent who has yet to master the fine art of the school drop-off lane, or standing up and shouting, “Liar, liar, Botox on fire” during a PTA meeting, then this delicious tale of payback is for you. To stay up-to-date on new posts and take part in my not so deep thoughts click on this Facebook link – http://is.gd/iEgnJ (That’s the abbreviated link to my FB page) or I twitter @snarkynsuburbs.
Snarky in the Suburbs 