*Disclaimer – I am not a certified P90X trainer, and I am not a Beachbody Coach. I am not being compensated for this blog series.  I just really like the idea of embarrassing myself publicly.  Mary Larsen is not liable for any of the opinions expressed herein.  Don’t blame her for what this knuckle-head says.

I’m baaaaaaack!

No, I’m not going to spout off fire and brimstone per usual.  And, I swear, I’m going to try not to offend anyone this time out. (Operative word: try).  No my friends, this post is all about adding some spice to Tall Mom’s ventures. I’ve decided to create a little segment I so lovingly and creatively entitled: Tall Dad tiny gym.  (Ok, maybe not so creative, but you get the theme.  There’s nothing like expanding the Brand!)

So, what’s the point here?  Well, I just received P90X3 for Christmas, and I thought it would be fun for you guys to join me during my endeavor of punishing my body into oblivion, while in the confines of the very tiny gym of my family room!  It’s going to be a recurring series that is a completely honest, no-nonsense, relentless, even sometimes embarrassing record of events regarding my man time with Tony Horton.  And, hell, if it even gives you a little motivation/help to be a tad more healthy for your kids, then all the better.  Then again, if these posts suck, please, feel free to tell me in the comments below and I’ll make sure Tall Mom puts the ax to this idea.  In the mean time, to the gym we go!

There is no doubt in my mind that you’ve heard about P90X somewhere, somehow.  It is the single most popular fitness system on the planet.  I guarantee that either you, or AT LEAST one of your friends, currently has the DVD collection collecting dust on a shelf somewhere in their house.  What you probably don’t know is that Tony Horton has created not only one, but two sequels to his mega hit workout system!  Each has their merits, but since I have already gone through two rounds of P90X and P90X2 respectively, it’s time to give his new creation of P90X3 (released just two weeks ago) a shot.

Tony Horton Rocking His New P90X Swag

Like I said, I just received P90X3 for Christmas and I am so freakin’ excited about it.  I’m so excited because I’ve never been that guy at the gym.  You know, that guy that Lifts Things Up and Puts Them Down.  I hate the whole process of “going to the gym.” Getting in the car, feeling obligated to put up a Facebook status that I’m going, bringing a gym bag that I spent waaay too much money on for no reason, getting a locker but of course forgetting a lock, changing there anyway and hiding my valuables in the obligatory spot of my shoe, sweating on someone else’s already sweaty old rusty machine, having to sanitize the aforementioned machine because someone didn’t wipe the thing down ::gag::, taking a shower in a random stall that’s probably infested with Athlete’s Foot, and, naturally, forgetting my towel.  Not to mention that while I’m barely muscling out five decent pull-ups (a new recent best – c’mon I HAVE LONG ARMS!), there’s some juice-monkey in the corner banging out twenty reps of 300lb bench presses. It’s emasculating.  I just wanna say to him, “hey man, I know I’m a pussy. I’m ok with that.  But, don’t shove it in my face.”  Then, naturally, I’d be pummeled into nothing but sweaty little dust mites.

Really though, the gym is just awkward.  Maybe it’s just me, but while I cling for dear life to the bar, and beg for that fifth and final pull-up (as my arms flutter like a butterfly on crack), I know I’m totally being judged by that guy whose thighs are as big as my waist, has balls the size of grapenuts, and is covered in tribal band tattoos.  Or, worst of all, I HATE when that random hot girl in the skimpy outfit and overdone makeup – which is, of course, only worn in an effort to flaunt how hot she is to all the meat-heads in that godforsaken establishment – looks at me with nothing but shame, disgust and pity.  Why do I care what she thinks?  I don’t know.  It’s a guy thing.  Suffice it to say, a public gym setting is not for this guy.  Whenever I’m there, it’s like a rolling ball of butcher knives made up of insecurity and emasculation careening towards me.  Which is why P90X3 is absolutely perfect for me.  I get to be ashamed of my non-masculine self in the privacy of my own home and be proud of the ugliest five pull-ups known to mankind.

Going forward, each of the forthcoming posts will be about my workouts, the pain and suffering I’ll be enduring, what’s happening in my training, and any tips I may have for you.  I look forward to sharing my experience, and hopefully, this series will keep me more accountable.   Cause I sure as hell can’t do it all by myself!  Seriously though, I really hope X3 is good.  The best part is that I guess we’re gonna find out together.  Keep your eyes out for my next post!  You’ll learn some really embarrassing shit about me, and it will be an actual introduction to X3.  Oh, and remember, it’s time to….

Do Your Best And Forget The Rest
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