I’ve never been into exercise. Not ever. Don’t get me wrong – I’m just as fanatical about sport and athletics as the next guy, but I kinda prefer watching from the sidelines, know what I mean? Like from the comfort of my leather couch – with a cold beer in hand and a bowl of buttered popcorn on my lap, and the TV volume turned up real loud so I don’t miss any of the action.
I always swore that I’d never be one of those vain dudes who checked myself out in the mirror, flexing my muscles and sucking in my gut to make my abs look more impressive. So what changed my mind? Exactly why did I covert from a couch potato to a ripped bod in 90 days? I guess you could say I had a kinda epiphany. Nah – just kidding! It was actually something my girlfriend said. No, in actual fact, it was a couple of things she said – about my body. And none of them were complimentary. When she started throwing words like “beer belly” and “flabby” and “letting yourself go at your age” in my face, I saw the writing on the wall: it was time to take action.
But where to start? Then I remembered a mate of mine who had
signed on for the P90X workout and was raving about it and boasting about it all over the place. Every time I bumped into him in town he would be grinning and jumping around like a cat on a hot tin roof with all this newfound energy, and making fists and flexing his biceps and striking these cute little poses to show off his butt and his new great physique as though he was a contestant in Mr Universe.
I hate it when people flaunt themselves like that, but I had to admit that after 60 days at this P90X business, he was starting to look pretty impressive. All lean and cut and fit and agile. It made me sick to my stomach – with envy.
“Why can’t you look more like him?” my girlfriend said afterwards. No, she didn’t exactly say it – it was more like an accusation snarled through gritted teeth. Know what I mean?
So that was the final straw. I was gonna prove to her that not only would I look more like him, I was gonna beat him at his own game! I was gonna workout like a demon, and at the end of 90 days we’d see who had the best body, the greatest abs, and the biggest biceps. We’d see.

So I leapt off the couch, tossed the popcorn in the bin, stowed the beer away in the fridge for another day, and jumped on my PC to had
sign up for the P90X workout. Okay, I’m not going to go into detail about the ins and outs of their terrific program – you can just click on the link at the end of this article to find out for yourself. But I will say this: whoever designed their workout program knew exactly what they were doing. I mean, if you can convert a flabby, out-of-condition slob like me into a fit, ripped dude in 90 days, then you’ve got the right formula, haven’t you? Here’s a bit of advice though: If you’re going to cry like a girl each time you get sore muscles with the P90X workout, go away now. But if you’ve got the guts to stick it out and look as sharp as a lean, mean machine after 90 days, visit had http://www.getrippedbody.info.

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