(Must tell you I'm already smiling like a goof just thinking about this post! )
So, someone asked about this exercise routine Frank and I have started.
It's called "Supreme 90". Not to be confused with the "P 90 X" which was apparently designed for super human types that do nothing BUT lift weights and walk around intimidating the rest of us. Smile.
"Supreme 90" costs only $19.95 plus S&H.
It arrives at your doorstep in a plain brown cardboard box. No glitz. No glossy, full color anything. Not one picture of the handsome, sculpted Adonis that promises to lead you to a full-body renovation. Nope, none of that.
Just an unassuming brown box containing ten CDs hosted by a little guy named Tom. (Not Lars, Sven or Arnold - just, Tom.)
Frank and I opened the box respectfully. This was our "Do or Die" moment. We meant business. We rehearsed our encounter with the guy who told us about "Supreme 90". You know, the 62 year old who looked 45. And we knew in our hearts that: "We too have what it takes to be stronger and healthier in just 90 days!" (At least, that's what all the ads say.)
The first three days were grueling!
We huffed and puffed. We groaned loudly without embarrassment! We complained to one another about how badly our muscles ached.
And those three days were only the stretching/warm-up exercises! Smile.
When we finally got brave enough to watch the first work-out CD, Frank and I just sat staring. I would occasionally sneak a glimpse at him with my brain screaming, "You think I'm gonna do that?!" Frank, however, started smiling.
Working out is pure enjoyment for Frank. When we met in college, he sported a six-pack that was the envy of most men on campus. (I didn't know what a six-pack was. I just liked that after being known as "the heavy girl" I'd finally met a guy who could sweep me up into his arms and not groan or grab his back afterward.)
He loves gyms, sports, and courts of all types. The only "D" I ever made in school was in P.E.
We were required to run a certain number of laps in a certain amount of time or fail the class. I can't even remember the name of the tiny, blond woman with the stopwatch who kept yelling, "Pick it up, Sheri! I'd hate to fail you!"
Each time I circled the track I glared at her wanting to scream, "YOU pick it up!"
Yep, Frank's done a pretty good job of staying in shape through the years. Although he would say the shape has morphed somewhat. And he decided it was time to halt the morphing process before everything slid so far south that there would be no hope of recovery. Smile.
We plunged in with determination and started doing what we were capable of doing as Tom barked orders through our television like a drill sargeant.
"Come on! You can do this. Keep your form. Form is Everything! Give me 90 days and you'll see great results! C'mon, just two more! Don't quit now! You can do this!!"
These people are wise to record themselves then never show their faces in public. That's because those of us who buy these exercise videos would hunt them down and HURT them!
Yesterday as I worked along, Tom said in his confident voice, "You may be only using an 8 or 10 pound weight at the beginning. That's okay! Just do what you can and keep challenging yourself."
"Hmm, how big is the weight I'm using?" I wondered. "This is tough. Maybe I should be using a smaller one."
I stopped and looked at the end of the purple weight I'd been struggling to get over my head. Three pounds! Don't think they make them any lighter than that!
Soooooo, I'm won't be competing for a body building title any time soon. At least I'm moving.
And that has become our mantra: "Something is better than nothing." We certainly can't do what they're doing on these videos. Some of that stuff is SCAREY! But at least we're moving.
And after six weeks, I'm not huffing or puffing during the stretching portion! Win!
One of my favorite portions of scripture says, "Don't despise small beginnings...."
That's the one I'm clinging to these days. After 90 days I'm still not sculpted or skinny. But we have lost a few inches and I can wear some of my slacks again that I thought I'd never button again.
And Frank needs suspenders for his suit pants. He regularly buttons his coats on Sunday mornings now too!
Gotta get going. There's a bowl of oatmeal and flax seed with my name on it! Smile.