Day One...What. The. Fuck?

Everybody is on this health kick. Every where you look, there's a person with a Fitbit strapped to his/her arm, drinking alkaline water, and eating lettuce. Well, we're no different, apparently. A little background, first. Brian and I have been together for 14 wonderful (and not so wonderful) years. Two kids and a mortgage later and we have definitely gotten comfortable in our lifestyle. Including eating out several times a week, making poor choices, and being lazy.

Skipping ahead a little. In 2014 I suffered a Pulmonary Embolism, and was "lucky to be alive." My life flipped and suddenly I could barely walk without having to stop and rest. My lungs turned against me. My body followed suit and I was diagnosed with a blood clotting disorder, Rheumatoid Arthritis, Sjogren's Disorder, and Lupus. Promptly following that, my Gallbladder hit the skids, and it had to be removed. I promise, I'm getting to my point! After all of this, Brian and I started Ballroom dancing. WE LOVE IT! Then my job got hectic and I started traveling a lot. Travel = Food out, and see paragraph #2 above...bad choices. As if this wasn't enough, my beautiful sister got engaged and her wedding is in November.

 Now you're up to date, and I'm about 70 pounds OVERWEIGHT! So, Brian decides, "Hey, let's do P90X...but wait...it's P90X3...it's only 30 minutes." So, I buy into this. Then I get sick. (I SWEAR it was not on purpose!) We finally took the "Fitness Test." For those of you unfamiliar with this...it's a series of fitness moves and such to see how "in shape" you're in. (I'm a shape! ROUND is a SHAPE!) Anyway, we failed that test...miserably.

 Today, we started with the actual work out. Day 1 - Total Synergistics, AKA HELL! What the FUCK did I get myself into!? Divorce papers are on their way! Only kidding, sort of, mostly. We made it through our first 30 minute work out. We did not die. We did not actually keep up, and half of the moves were only 30% correct, but we completed all of it. I did pretend push-up, but my wimpy arms picked my fat ass up. I did Girly Pull-ups, but my arms pulled my fat ass up! I did this torture move called, "Boat and Plow." You know what Tony Horton...fuck you and your boat and plow. My stomach, back, arms, legs, hair, toenails...everything HURTS! WE made it through. We did it. Day one. Dear God there are 89 more days to go!

 Maybe I will get those divorce papers! All in all, I'm proud of us. WE got through it. Every time we do this, we will get stronger, better, and more agile. I may hobble my way to my desk tomorrow, but guess what? I get to do it again tomorrow night along with our Ballroom Dance lesson. Right now I'm going to hit the shower and contemplate drowning Brian. (Seriously, Big Brother, I'm not going to kill my husband. We're in this together.) I accept all forms of prayers...but hey, I signed up for this shit.