Skepticism abounds, yet I pop in my first DVD. Day #1 of a 90 day exercise program. Am I really going through with it? Yes. I’ve got the stretchy colored bands, I’ve got the mat, I’ve got the push-up bars. All of this equipment the detritus of other, older workout regimens. At least I’m recycling. It’s Eco-fitness!
First, there’s an introductory DVD called “How to Bring It.” A primer on potlucks? No such luck.
“How to Bring It” explains how the program works. It’s kind of a Getting to Know You moment for me and P90X—
… with me in my boxer briefs playing the part of Deborah Kerr, and, in the role of Yul Brenner, making his debut in my bedroom TV, please give a warm studio welcome to—
|Don’t talk smack about my program,
or I will find you. Blam!
Mr. Tony Horton! Ah Mr. Horton, fitness god, guru to the stars, he of the chiseled body, gaunt face and zealot’s eyes. He will be my trainer for the next three months. I’m a little trepidatious. This guy is, I have to admit, a little too straight-guy-jock to be in my comfort zone. He’s got a few too many fist-bumps and sports metaphors in his repertoire. I mean, come on, my first foray into a post-college exercise program was the Soloflex, and the draw for me wasn’t so much the sleek precision of the machine or the easy-to-use-patented bands, but the brochure:
|Reflections of happier workout days…|
Oh, Scott Madsen, where are you when I need you?
Mr. Horton is no doe-eyed, soft-focus, glistening man-boy. Tony is a rock-hard drill sergeant who’s got that Tony Robbins motivational patter leavened with occasional goofy high-pitched exclamations that signify hi-larity. It’s like having Jim Carrey as a personal trainer. Come to think of it…
Did you see Jim Carrey’s body in “I Love You Phillip Morris?” Maybe it IS him!
|… Hears a Who|
But, I digress.
Food mentions: Crispy Cremes.