Tony vs. Stuart

Ok, so I've been doing these P90X3 workouts now for about three weeks, and I just now figured out who Tony Horton reminds me of... it was today on one of the videos when he said (as I've heard him say before on other vids), "This is what 50 looks like!"

I couldn't find the exact line on the youtubes, but here is the closest thing I could find:

Ok, now watch this next video and tell me you don't see the resemblance:

uh, huh? right?!?!?!

and one more, just for good measure:

"I'm Tony Horton and I'm FIFTY! FIFTY years old!!"

Piloxing

was offered a free class at the local gym tonight. I brought along a girlfriend and together we tried out something called piloxing. Supposedly it is a mix of Pilates and Boxing. That is, if Pilates and Boxing drank about 62 redbulls, 497 cups of coffee, and 122 mountain dews. I felt like a spider on cocaine.

just like this, except imagine all the legs working

Well, if it works for the supermodels. (because supermodels do coke)


Although, if the teacher is any indication, these spasm-like activities do not make one fit or thin looking. She was a chunker! Not to say she couldn't outlast me on a treadmill, kick my ass in a ring, or last longer in a squatting contest. But she looked like she should lay off the twinkies. I don't mean to be judgey mcjudgerson, but if you teach a fitness class, shouldn't you be, like, wayyy fitter than anyone else in the room?

like this lady, the owner/creator/more-fit-than-you piloxer queen

now, she makes me think this piloxing thing could whip my butt in shape, unlike the heifer teaching the class.

well anyway, I can't say that I would take it again. Unless it was free. And at a convenient time. Then maybe.  yeah, yeah, whatever Judgey cat.

patchouli.

aka barfouli. aka stinkouli. aka gagouli. aka worse-than-old-lady-perfume-ouli.

I apologize to anyone that might wear the stench perfume patchouli, but the malodor feels to me like someone hot boxed some incense in my nose and the hot box was made of stabby things up through my nostrils to my brain. And for some reason 99.99999% of the people that wear patchouli put so much on that you can smell it from about a mile away.

granted, any perfume that you can smell from over 20 feet away is an affront.  I think this every time I pass an old lady that has been wearing the same perfume her whole adult life and now can no longer smell it/takes a bath in it. But for some reason, when someone has slathered themselves in patchouli (as happened this evening) I feel as though I am being assaulted.

Tonight this woman was wearing being owned by patchouli and it was all I could do to be around her without gagging. I tried as politely as possible to keep my hand around my nose so I would smell my own hand rather than her, and also kept as far away as possible, taking care to hold my breath around her and then make sure to breathe OUT first before breathing IN after I had left her general vicinity (and by general vicinity I mean a 25 foot radius) so that any smell that had snuck up in my nose might be expelled before I had to breathe in.

seriously, I want to tell anyone that thinks patchouli smells nice. just don't. If you must enjoy it, buy the incense sticks and burn out in your yard/patio/balcony/wooded area. But PLEASE, PLEASE keep it away from me. It smells so fucking foul that it makes me want to run away from you. And you might be a very nice person.

gahhhh I feel violated...

nothing tastes as good as thin feels. except maybe chocolate. and cheese. and ice cream. and pizza...

Fat and happy.
Just an expression, right? well guess what? I'm miserable and (getting) thin! yeah!  Let's hear it for the breakup diet!

(or, what really happened) I realized I've put on a substantial amount of weight in the past year and a half, so I decided to do a 30 day challenge with Beach Body. What this means is instead of my beloved cereal for breakfast, I have a protein and superfood shake. And instead of sitting on my lardass on the sofa, I work out. To Tony Horton. *shudders*

Actually, everyone hates you. 

Seriously, I think he is the MOST annoying person on the planet!  I don't even think the other people in his videos like him. They just like the idea of being on a P90X video, and getting paid for it. You'll see them on the break or after the workout hugging each other, giving each other high-5's, and then Tony comes around and they all act like "oh yeah, Tony, right. yeah, man, here's your hug-5. please hire us again for more of your videos." Even though I'm still not really familiar with all the routines, I have to put the video on mute. I just cannot hear his lame ass jokes, his narcissism, and his trying to be cool.  Dude, you were never cool growing up, and you're not cool now.  You just have something everyone wants. If you didn't have that, no one would talk to you.

On the plus side, (or minus?) I've lost over 8 pounds in two weeks!

Today I ran (ok, ok, jogged/walked) a 5K. I fucking hate running. But I also have learned about myself that I don't like to follow rules. But how can I commit to the results if I don't commit to the rules?

So, off I went. I didn't want to have to drive a path first to mark out 3.1 miles, so I downloaded this app called Map My Run.  I don't like running on busy streets, so I found a quiet little neighborhood and, well, see if you can see my route...

What!?!? So I was running in circles. Ain't no shame.  It's not like it is my life! Oh wait...

All the single ladies put your hands up

Fuck you, Beyonce, you shouldn't even be putting your own hand up to your own song because *newsflash* you're NOT SINGLE.
Sigh...
Single AGAIN. And yes, I was dumped. 
And I'm in fucking bakersfield teaching.
And the idiots at the school office have their heads up their asses and don't do their work so I had a very stressful day.
And I'm hungry because I'm doing a fitness challenge (more on this later).
And there's a line at chipotle out the door, and they have stopped taking our orders because they have online orders to fill and the dumb lady behind me keeps thwapping me with her kid's blanket and/or her hair and she won't shut up talking to the little butterball Anthony.

Anthony! Look at Mommy! Anthony! The itsy bitsy spider crawled up the water spout, down came the rain and WASHED the spider out! Out came the sun and dried up all the rai---

And then I turned around and punched her in the face.

OK, OK, so I didn't punch her in the face. But I really wanted to. Especially when she chastised her kid for not paying attention to her. Um, lady, he is maybe 12 months old. He has the attention span of a gnat. And you are clearly an idiot.

Don't fuck with me when I'm hungry.

I finally fed the beast (ahem) and became the beauty again.  (see what I did there? I loaded that with a compliment to myself.) And Anthony's dumb mama escaped a beat-down. At least for today...