Tony Horton and Stuff

I resisted the invitation for an entire week.  Back and forth my head would shake as I sent him on his way, trailed by three kids who were enthusiastic to participate.  The selfish part of me enjoyed the quiet and stole away to blog or edit or, well, enjoy a bit of quiet.  I heard them, though.  The four of them.  I heard instructions being yelled out, little voices squealing, and every now and then a laugh from Chad. 

The loudest voice, though, was unmistakable. . . this one is going to be intense.  Or, pace yourself  or time for some burnouts.  Tony Horton (king of P90X) was yelling at Chad and Charlie and Chanelle and even Meadow.  (You are welcome for that image).  Anyway, I listened to them downstairs but repeated to myself, over and over, you are a runner, you don’t need Tony and his muscles workout. 

The kids would ask me before prancing down to our (still box-filled) basement each evening, are you going to come down with us?  (Mama guilt set in pretty quickly.)  After about a week, I relented and followed my crew down the stairs.  They did not hide their excitement to have the final member of our family crammed in the basement.  Honestly, though?  I was far from excited.

You see, Chad and I had done P90X a few years ago.   I hated it.  Who has an extra hour a day to work out?  (On top of the hour or so a day I spend running?)  Seriously?  We have three kids and jobs and we like to sleep at night, too.  Anyway, I wasn’t a big fan of Mr. Horton and his hour-plus workouts from a few years ago.  Chad assured me, though, that this time would be different.  It’s only 30 minutes a day, he told me. 

Hang with me, this is where the story gets interesting.  I drug my little runner body and my bad attitude down the stairs and glared at Chad as if he forced me to participate.  As he pressed the start button I watched as Mr. Horton began running in place and my blood pressure began to rise immediately.  In my head I was saying, seriously? I ran five miles this morning and now you want me to jog in place?  I looked at Chad and rolled my eyes and said, I don’t run in place.  My ever so patient husband just ignored me and explained that it’s just a warm up.  I held back my laughter as I watched muscle man Tony do those little arm roll things–you know what I’m talking about–swinging your arms in small circles in order to “warm up”.  I think we did that in 2nd grade gym class.

By this time I was feeling quiet annoyed at this waste of time.  For goodness sake, I thought to myself, I’m a long distance runner.  I’ve run marathons and half marathons.  I spend five or six mornings a week running and I’m sitting here doing sissy arm rolls. . . this is so beneath me.
There it is. . . pride cometh before the fall. . .

I did that first 30 minute work out and walked up the stairs thinking that was a piece of cake. 

Until the next morning. . .

Turns out, muscle-man Horton’s workouts reach completely different muscles than my daily runs touch.  Apparently, that 30 minutes of leaping, lunging, jumping and stretching was Mr. Horton’s way of taking me down a notch (or four) and nearly incapacitating me. 

Tony would probably think it’s funny. 

I’m certain Chad does.  He watches me with a smile on his face as I waddle around the house like a penguin while trying to make my very disobedient legs do what I want them to do.  It takes me about one minute to walk up the stairs.  Chad doesn’t dare say anything, though–he’s too wise for that. 

I’ve continued with the workouts each evening despite the pain that shoots though parts of my body that I didn’t even know I had.  (Yeah, that pride thing?  I’ve got to work on that.)  It’s more than pride, though.  The five of us?  We’re doing it together and, well, together feels good. 

In all reality, though, I know that these (unknown) muscles needed a wake up.  Apparently they have been ignored as I’ve swung one leg in front of the other again and again and again for years.  These others muscles had been neglected and needed my attention. 

Those muscles weren’t the only thing. . .

Life around our house has been pretty uneventful lately.  It feels good to be completely caught up with my SummerK work and it has taken me some time to get used to not feeling the strain of deadlines and sessions to edit.  As I’ve adjusted to the slow season, I’ve found my heart strings and my eyes have readjusted to the simple beauty of our everyday life.

Just like Tony’s workout introduced me new muscles, lately I’ve been reintroduced to the little things that I was too preoccupied to notice a few short months ago–but are so very important to me.

We’re taking our time and slowing down. . .

she drew Target

We’re being silly. . .

We’re trying new experiments. . .

And letting them be little. . .

Sometimes, in the craziness and busyness of life, I lose sight of the right here and the right now.  I miss out on moments that will never be again, because I’m thinking about what is next.  Over the last few weeks, I’ve been reminded and have enjoyed the beauty and the simplicity that is our daily life. . .

I know that there are seasons for everything.  I know that balance is a constant battle and life is really about give and take.  But right now?  I’m drinking in the gift of these tiny little moments that give life it’s purpose. . .

. . . and breathing big sighs of thankfulness.

Have a happy Thursday. . .