This man is trying to kill me

That's him.  He's trying to kill me.  He is the host Head Inquistitor of something called P90X.  This is a self torture video that is designed to maim but not kill you.  If you attempt to follow the entire regiment after years of inactivity you will be crippled (at least temporarily).  Allow me to explain.  In April I decided to get serious about dropping weight and getting into some sort of shape.  Some of you remember that I used to play soccer on Wednesday nights (nb:  Hube was too scared).  That was 2+ hours of running around every week.  Good for the calorie burn.  They closed the field as it was in terrible shape and wanted to "rest" it over the summer and that was the end of that.  The games never came back.  I had heard good things about the P90X program and decided (yesterday) to try it.  The good thing is, it's on video which makes it handy to follow along and its all plyometrics which means no weights to buy or lug around.  So far, so good.  The best part is that each video is a mere 15 minutes.  Bah!  I can do 15 minutes of anything.  Right?

So going alphabetically, I started with, I am not making this up, "AB RIPPER X".  Hyperbole thought I.  It's fifteen freakin' minutes.  Started off strong and going well.  I can feel my stomach muscles working and working hard at that.  I kept up for the first, oh, 6 minutes or so.  By minute 8 I was sucking wind and really feeling it.  By the time he was done I was in tears crying for mommy.  I laid on the floor and waited for my rubber legs to dissipate so I could get a drink and maybe something to eat.  Ha ha, no.  I was upstairs and food lives downstairs.  I had to go down the stairs on my ass for fear of falling on my face and breaking many things.  I ate something, drank some water and went back upstairs to shower.  Finished the night with some Hulu and went to bed.  This morning when I woke something was very wrong.  My oblique stomach muscles were sore but that was to be expected.  It really wasn't that bad.  Just the normal post workout burn you feel.  My hips, however, had been somehow been injected with ground glass.  Agony.  Stiff and sure agony.  I managed to hobble myself to the shower and had to lift each leg behind my thigh to get into the tub.  I felt like a freakin' mime.  I showered and, again, lifted my legs out of the tub and back to the room.  Getting dressed was not easy.  I finally got going and started my walk to work.  Each step was stabbing pain from the tops of my thighs to the bottom of my ribcage.  I asked Mr. Google why that is.  Seems my hip flexors are in rebellion.  Any attempt at stretching was met with yelps of prostestation and comically limited range of motion.

Got to my office and started working.  Around oh, 10:00 AM I had to get up.  That was a problem.  I had stiffened up from all that sitting.  Now when I walked I looked like a guy who had to take a dump or just had taken one in his pants.  Walking was so painful I started to sweat.   The pain actually decreases with mobility and range of motion gets better but I'm dreading the walk home tonight.  This is gonna suck

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