On New Year's Day 2009, having sustained for a couple of years the highest weight of my life, I quietly resolved to change things. I am 5'9" tall, and I weighed 210 pounds. By even the most forgiving standard, I was at least 40 pounds overweight. I had more than a spare tire; it was definitely a gut, extending over my belt and threatening to sag below it. My cholesterol numbers were high where they should have been low, and low where they should have been higher. I couldn't bend over to tie my shoes without compressing my diaphragm to the point that I had difficulty breathing.
I knew I wasn't motivated enough to start working out on my own. I also knew that, even if I were so motivated, I didn't know where to start, nor how, and would probably have injured myself if I tried.
I was employed and making decent money, so, after doing some research, I chose a personal training facility and began working with a trainer who focused on proper diet, and workout routines using mostly my own body weight, that worked on core strength as well as shoulders, arms, legs, and back, with very low emphasis on fancy machinery. I started on February 2, 2009.
Five months later I had completely changed my eating habits. I had worked out with and without my trainer faithfully and determinedly. I had dropped 20 pounds from my frame. I lost 2 inches from my waistline. I looked good and I felt great. Most importantly, I shocked my doctor by bringing my cholesterol numbers back into or very near the ideals she had outlined for me at the start of my workouts!
But in that five month period, I had also lost my job. I had already paid for my training sessions through July. They weren't cheap. After July, I had to say good-bye to my trainer and the facility that helped me make it all happen. I stuck with a fitness routine based around the relatively measly facilities provided at my apartment complex, but, admittedly, I was having difficulty feeling motivated without someone helping me, guiding me through a good variety of exercises.
Then, in September, I took a job driving a taxi, and I quickly learned that, in order to make enough money to get by in that job, I had to put in ridiculous hours. On top of that, I began chasing a dream to be a paid professional actor, and landed roles in three shows consecutively, running almost non-stop from September through April. With those occupations went any time or energy I had for working out.
Amazingly, within the first month of driving the taxi, I lost another ten pounds. I soon realized, though, that the loss was in the muscle weight I had gained in the trade-off with fat lost while working out in the spring and summer. Soon I noticed my gut getting thicker and flabbier. By April of 2010 I definitely had a spare tire again. I strained more to climb stairs. I experienced lower back pain from the weakening of those muscles. It was time to do something again, but with no disposable income, I didn't know what to do.
I started listening to progressive talk radio to kill the time when the taxi work slowed each day. I soon gravitated to The Stephanie Miller Show and heard ads for a product about which I was immediately skeptical: P90X. At least twice an hour Ms. Miller would do a live plug of the product, claiming she was using it herself, and touting the fantastic results. One of the touts, however, caught my attention. She mentioned that the exercises focused heavily on "your own body weight," without the need for expensive machinery or gimmicky gadgets. She talked about "muscle confusion," brought on by exercises that vary the movements enough that there is little repetition and, therefore, less danger of plateaus and repetition injuries. Still skeptical, I largely ignored her plugs.
Then one day I was getting some work done on the taxi cab, and was captive in front of a TV that happened to be on a channel showing an infomercial for P90X. I watched for a few minutes and, beyond the testimonials singing the praises of the product, I saw video of people doing P90X workouts. Many of the exercises were the exact same ones my personal trainer had me doing while I worked with him! Suddenly I was interested. I intended to do more research.
Almost as if by some weird karmic coincidence — if I believed in such a thing — a few evenings later I picked up two passengers from one of the bars in my work area. They started talking about "ripping those DVDs," and one of them said he wasn't too sure he wanted them. The other guy said something to the effect of, "Dude, you GOTTA do those DVDs! They are INTENSE! I've done it for three weeks, now, and my energy is up, I'm stronger than ever... I just feel great!"
Sometimes you just feel something, and you know you're right. I just knew they were talking about P90X. I interrupted their conversation. "Sorry to butt in, guys, but do you mind if I ask what you're talking about?"
"P90X!"
Now I had an unsolicited testimonial for the product. Then I noticed a Facebook friend referring to it on several occasions. Any mention I heard about it in passing was positive, almost raving.
So, finally, I ordered P90X. It arrived several days ago.
The Experiment commences.
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