As we continue our Death March to Fitness Glory, the team has fallen into roughly two groups, the committed and the fair-weather workouters. Despite the daily teachings of Horton to “just press play,” our overall progress has slowed for a number of reasons. The recent change from Phase One to Two has seen some team members feel the increased calories and change of pace may be slowing down their transformations; for some, the increased food intake combined with a lazy attitude has created a perfect storm for a couple extra pounds.
While the $500 prize is not yet in reach of any one competitor, there are definitely a couple of breakaways in the pack at this point. As we are approximately halfway through the challenge, it’s now or never for the stragglers if they want to make amends with their bodies.
Just another week on the P90X Fitness Challenge.
Benefits: These crazy-ass leg workouts, as well as plyometrics, have definitely had a positive impact on my endurance and stamina while running.
Failures: I’ve become so unmotivated that to avoid pressing play I just don’t go into the TV room until an unfeasible hour to work out — like two in the morning.
Diet: Summer is in full swing, and I’ve had visitors pretty much every other weekend who insist on consuming the traditional Quebec foodstuff, poutine. That, and I’m far too lazy to make lunch each day. I’m trying a new strategy this week by following Vanessa’s convenient bag of salad approach.
Results: Holding steady, but just. Got to step it up a few notches if I’m going to take down these other hoodlums.
Benefits: With the amount of money I’ve saved from extravagant dinners and other debauched pleasures, I decided to invest in a vacation. As you’re reading this I am either lying on a beach, swimming in the ocean or learning Spanish in a Mexican prison (purely depending on what other debauched pleasures I may find while there).
Failure: There is no such thing as failure. There are only little umbrellas for my drinks.
Diet: What’s that? I can’t hear you over the sound of ice clinking in my margarita.
Results: I’m on a beach.