I bought the P90X system a while ago. It was my intent to dedicate myself to every aspect of the fitness program in order to achieve the sexiest body I possibly could. Because that’s important. Being sexy is important. It says so on the TV. Sexy, you’re not enough of it. Get more of it in 90 Days!
The cost isn’t too crazy compared to what you’d spend on a membership sign-up fee at a gym that has good equipment, sexy people, and middle-aged immigrants working out in their jeans and khakis. And you would get to smell other people’s sweat and body odor. I remember one guy at the last gym I was a member of, he did a lot of indoor tanning and often smelled like a burnt blackberry. This is all missing from the P90X experience.
The upside of P90X is that you will get your money’s worth if you want a challenging system of workouts. You’ll get in shape quickly and notice within a week some changes to your physique. If you follow the nutrition plan (80% of your success comes from this) you are well on your way to the sexy physique of your dreams of sexiness. This is a Full Fitness System, and the only thing you need to bring to it is about an hour a day, and the right attitude. Because you’re gonna work your ass off if you’re ready.
What it did for me:
Weightloss – No. My weight stayed steady for 60 days, and after that much time I said "F it." It fluctuated 2lbs up & down during a week. I did not perfectly follow the nutrition plan because, like most plans, it would require about an hour of food preparation a day. I did drop my bodyfat percentage about 3%. Certain areas feel sexier than others. I went back to the Turbulence Training, short, intense workouts.
Muscling Up – Yes. I got stronger and packed on some muscle, in my arms and back especially. Moderate weightloss makes you look more muscular, but I am positive I got stronger in some areas.
Fitness Level – Upped it. Cardio wise, jumping ability from plyometrics, flexibility. I’m in better shape. But not looking at that 7% bodyfat you see on the commercials.
PROS:
Muscle Confusion = Diversity of workouts – The workouts change daily and monthly. You skip the plateau periods, each session is mapped out for you, and you do a week of lighter workouts each month to “rest.” And the focus of each day’s workout changes, one day it’s Resistance, the next day it’s more Cardio based. You won’t get bored on your way to being sexier.
Intensity = Results – Each workout is about an hour long and if you hang in there you will really get your money’s worth out of it. You never feel like you’re not working enough. But you have to incorporate the mindset of INTENSITY to really achieve results. Don’t buy if you won’t try to get sexy.
Goal-based Combinations – If you’d rather just get leaner than beefier, there are a couple of combinations layed-out in the guides to get you there. If you want to really cut up and boost muscle while burning calories with cardio, there’s a combo for that, also. You define sexy, and go there.
CONS:
Time Commitment – Each workout is about an hour from warm-up to workout to cool-down. Yoga is about 90minutes. These would be shorter if Horton wouldn’t be talking the entire time in between sets and hawking other products, but hey, it’s part of the gig for getting sexy.
Intensity – That is, these workouts can be monsters. The phrase in the system is to “Do Your Best, Forget the Rest.” The best you can do is get in and start going the best you can. Sexy awaits. The people working out in the videos are all P90X graduates, and in great shape. If you’re not a real self-starter, forget it.
Extras – You don’t NEED a lot of extra stuff to work out with. But for the ultimate sexiness, you would need a chin-up bar and varied weights of dumbbells. They walk you through the variations you can do with the resistance bands. It can be discouraging to not have all the bells & whistles, but do the best you can.
If you have 6-8 hours a week to work out, get P90X. You can likely get free shipping and return it if you need to. It’s an ass-kicker, but like any workout sexy system, your results depend on your dedication and ability to listen to Tony Horton yap for an hour a day.
===================
Take Me Home
My Blog About My Dad
MC, HOST, CORPORATE, COMEDY, SEATTLE, GEOFF, LOTT
Geoff Lott: Comedian, Writer, Philosoteur. I am here to amuse you, not entertain you. If not now, later. If not you, somebody else. If you can't laugh at yourself, that's just fine, too. I will do it for you.
Showing posts with label Tony. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Tony. Show all posts
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Thursday, October 02, 2008
Culture Schlock
In the past few days the average temperature in LA has been 87 degrees in a freezer. It's hot. It's not an Equatorial-nation swelter, it's just a heat that says "It's my job, don't bother me." The slowing-you-down kind of heat. And it's October. I'm not used to this. Normally by now I'd be scrounging for some sort of herbal anti-depressant and sleeping deeply at night. But lately, nope, it's just too frigging hot.
And Awesome.
Last night, and some of today, it rained. Just a smattering of rain, the kind LA natives probably think is a sign of the apocalypse. But for Seattlers, t'weren't nothin'. It was welcomed.
Now, RIGHT NOW, assholes across the alley from our bedroom are tearing down the party scene of a soiree at an art gallery, to which we were NOT invitees. Thus, assholes. People here work the alleyways. A lot of non-white people stroll the 'ways peering into the recycling bins to see if there's any glass or aluminum beer/energy drink/coffee cans to turn in for money. One lady who frequents the block wears jewelry on her route, or "day job." Nice touch, a little hoop action while peering into gar-bazh buckets. I am planning on rigging a bat on a string under the lid of ours, because it's private property and they shouldn't be pokin' around. Plus it's almost Halloween.
By the way... Pico Party Rentals can eat a hot plate of caca, hombre.
But, I digress...
Tuesday night I went to the H'wood Improv to meet a comic who is a friend-of-a-friend. When they say "It's all about who you know," that's only 95% true. The other 5% is luck, talent, and emotional preparedness. I say this because I've been blessed with incredibly helpful people who have "sent the elevator back" to get me. Now it's up to me to push those buttons and fig're out which floors I am getting off at. BUT, I digress...
Tuesday, I chat briefly with the intended meet-up, and think I may go home soon after, as he's off to another show uptown. Then I figure, no, I've invested too much already for one contact, let's chat. I meet another guy named Chris Millhouse, funny comic and show producer around here. We talk, he tells me about another room to work my way into. Very cool of Chris. Then... I see a line growing outside. On a Tuesday night. For COMEDY. So I check the line up.
Two of my main influences, the latter being a major influence on my story-length material about real life, the former being simply one of the funniest jokemasters ever. I offer, from Dave Attell...
"I watched the Presidential Debates with the sound off, and it looked like a snowman yelling at a pharoah. Why is Frosty yelling at King Tut, Jr.?"
Also that same night I run into Iliza Schlesinger, winner of the most-recent season of Last Comic Standing. We talked a bit, as we both know Jeff "Jackpot" Dye and Marcus from the comedy circles. Iliza is really a cool person who loves comedy and what she's doing. Again, it's another situation of people helping out. I really hope I get to the point where I can help people on their way up.
Surreal, and yet it is Now. It IS.
And so, on Sunday, I'm off to downtown LA to shoot scenes for a feature-length film about corporate douchebaggery, trudging, and malaise. I've been in town a month, and got a part because a friend helped me out, my work was noticed, and I can DO THIS, yo.
When it comes time for you to take a swing at your dream, get both cheeks into it. The payoff, well hell, sometimes that's just a Tuesday.
Funniest thing about LA is that the entertainment industry is the ONLY industry in the world where discrimination and prostitution are legal, daily occurrences. You can be excluded because you are not the right ethnicity, age, body type, gender, or general look. You can have sex for money and as long as somebody films it, it's protected under the Constitution. Hmm. Observed.
I'll write more about Bob another time.
Take Me Home
My Blog About My Dad
And Awesome.
Last night, and some of today, it rained. Just a smattering of rain, the kind LA natives probably think is a sign of the apocalypse. But for Seattlers, t'weren't nothin'. It was welcomed.
Now, RIGHT NOW, assholes across the alley from our bedroom are tearing down the party scene of a soiree at an art gallery, to which we were NOT invitees. Thus, assholes. People here work the alleyways. A lot of non-white people stroll the 'ways peering into the recycling bins to see if there's any glass or aluminum beer/energy drink/coffee cans to turn in for money. One lady who frequents the block wears jewelry on her route, or "day job." Nice touch, a little hoop action while peering into gar-bazh buckets. I am planning on rigging a bat on a string under the lid of ours, because it's private property and they shouldn't be pokin' around. Plus it's almost Halloween.
By the way... Pico Party Rentals can eat a hot plate of caca, hombre.
But, I digress...
Tuesday night I went to the H'wood Improv to meet a comic who is a friend-of-a-friend. When they say "It's all about who you know," that's only 95% true. The other 5% is luck, talent, and emotional preparedness. I say this because I've been blessed with incredibly helpful people who have "sent the elevator back" to get me. Now it's up to me to push those buttons and fig're out which floors I am getting off at. BUT, I digress...
Tuesday, I chat briefly with the intended meet-up, and think I may go home soon after, as he's off to another show uptown. Then I figure, no, I've invested too much already for one contact, let's chat. I meet another guy named Chris Millhouse, funny comic and show producer around here. We talk, he tells me about another room to work my way into. Very cool of Chris. Then... I see a line growing outside. On a Tuesday night. For COMEDY. So I check the line up.
Dave Attell.
Christopher Titus.
Two of my main influences, the latter being a major influence on my story-length material about real life, the former being simply one of the funniest jokemasters ever. I offer, from Dave Attell...
"I watched the Presidential Debates with the sound off, and it looked like a snowman yelling at a pharoah. Why is Frosty yelling at King Tut, Jr.?"
Also that same night I run into Iliza Schlesinger, winner of the most-recent season of Last Comic Standing. We talked a bit, as we both know Jeff "Jackpot" Dye and Marcus from the comedy circles. Iliza is really a cool person who loves comedy and what she's doing. Again, it's another situation of people helping out. I really hope I get to the point where I can help people on their way up.
Surreal, and yet it is Now. It IS.
And so, on Sunday, I'm off to downtown LA to shoot scenes for a feature-length film about corporate douchebaggery, trudging, and malaise. I've been in town a month, and got a part because a friend helped me out, my work was noticed, and I can DO THIS, yo.
When it comes time for you to take a swing at your dream, get both cheeks into it. The payoff, well hell, sometimes that's just a Tuesday.
Funniest thing about LA is that the entertainment industry is the ONLY industry in the world where discrimination and prostitution are legal, daily occurrences. You can be excluded because you are not the right ethnicity, age, body type, gender, or general look. You can have sex for money and as long as somebody films it, it's protected under the Constitution. Hmm. Observed.
I'll write more about Bob another time.
Take Me Home
My Blog About My Dad
Sunday, November 25, 2007
SICC Again; the Comics You Know
I am a finalist in the Seattle International Comedy Competition.
It hit me last Sunday in a deluge of emails, texts, phone calls, but not a SINGLE chunky muffin basket. Nor a tastefully-shot half-nude of Geoff Brousseau. Thank you very little.
I cannot take all the credit for getting to where I am. I have had the help, support, and well wishes of my wife, my family, my friends, and many of my friends who are comics. I have felt only minor tinges of pain throughout all of this. Sometimes just gas. Sometimes emotional. Oft-times the result of seeing Integrity take a rake to the back. You can't control what everyone else does. The best you can do is control your own moments, your own performance, and dumb it down so very deeply that even the most qualified of comedy judges isn't challenged by what you're doing.
But I progress. DI-gress.
Going into this final show tonight at the Comedy Underground Marcus, an impressionist with energy to burn, is in 1st. He is a stage monster. He is a one-man, live-band karaJoke jam, audiences cannot get enough of him, and he's played everywhere you can play in this state.
Close behind is Tony Boswell, an incredible writer and comedian who reminds me of a very good whiskey, a sweet and smoky warmth that doesn't quite burn. But could. It's like watching a Miles Davis solo in comedy form, laughing when the notes trail to something you thought would go one way, and just give you the chills instead. I wish I would have written a lot of the stuff Tony is doing.
Leif Skyving has impressed me nightly since the beginning with great joke-writing, great performances, and fully embracing the entirety of his life for material. He shies from nothing, and makes it all Funny. I would love to work some gigs with Leif, but that's an awful lot of Northern European man-funny for an audience to unzip for.
Key Lewis has taken rooms over with energy, and has commanded stages with coolness. This guy's got so many talents that there's no way to tell what he can do yet. But it's big. To FINAL your first time through this thing is a Feat. And he's married. With 3 kids. And a full time job that one day had him on the road to Portland at 5am, and BACK to the Vashon show on time. Impressive stuff all the way around.
I'm in the mix as well. Placings don't matter right now. Doing the best possible set I can for the last night of the competition is all that matters.
I will summarize my own feelings throughout the entire run of 18 shows over three weeks of the waning month of November 2007. As autumn has turned earnest, my thoughts of comedy, my own and in general, have been injected with respect, drive, and a focus on Doing The Comedy I Want To Be Remembered For.
I can always write more jokes. Better jokes. Better comedy. Bigger Funny.
And I will.
Oh wait, here's that Brousseau picture!
=0=0=0=0=0=
Take Me Home
My Blog About My Dad
It hit me last Sunday in a deluge of emails, texts, phone calls, but not a SINGLE chunky muffin basket. Nor a tastefully-shot half-nude of Geoff Brousseau. Thank you very little.
I cannot take all the credit for getting to where I am. I have had the help, support, and well wishes of my wife, my family, my friends, and many of my friends who are comics. I have felt only minor tinges of pain throughout all of this. Sometimes just gas. Sometimes emotional. Oft-times the result of seeing Integrity take a rake to the back. You can't control what everyone else does. The best you can do is control your own moments, your own performance, and dumb it down so very deeply that even the most qualified of comedy judges isn't challenged by what you're doing.
But I progress. DI-gress.
Going into this final show tonight at the Comedy Underground Marcus, an impressionist with energy to burn, is in 1st. He is a stage monster. He is a one-man, live-band karaJoke jam, audiences cannot get enough of him, and he's played everywhere you can play in this state.
Close behind is Tony Boswell, an incredible writer and comedian who reminds me of a very good whiskey, a sweet and smoky warmth that doesn't quite burn. But could. It's like watching a Miles Davis solo in comedy form, laughing when the notes trail to something you thought would go one way, and just give you the chills instead. I wish I would have written a lot of the stuff Tony is doing.
Leif Skyving has impressed me nightly since the beginning with great joke-writing, great performances, and fully embracing the entirety of his life for material. He shies from nothing, and makes it all Funny. I would love to work some gigs with Leif, but that's an awful lot of Northern European man-funny for an audience to unzip for.
Key Lewis has taken rooms over with energy, and has commanded stages with coolness. This guy's got so many talents that there's no way to tell what he can do yet. But it's big. To FINAL your first time through this thing is a Feat. And he's married. With 3 kids. And a full time job that one day had him on the road to Portland at 5am, and BACK to the Vashon show on time. Impressive stuff all the way around.
I'm in the mix as well. Placings don't matter right now. Doing the best possible set I can for the last night of the competition is all that matters.
I will summarize my own feelings throughout the entire run of 18 shows over three weeks of the waning month of November 2007. As autumn has turned earnest, my thoughts of comedy, my own and in general, have been injected with respect, drive, and a focus on Doing The Comedy I Want To Be Remembered For.
I can always write more jokes. Better jokes. Better comedy. Bigger Funny.
And I will.
Oh wait, here's that Brousseau picture!
=0=0=0=0=0=
Take Me Home
My Blog About My Dad
Saturday, November 24, 2007
SICC 2 Nights!
We have 2 shows left.
The ever-ready, kind of rowdy Bremerton rock-a-thon!
And the FINAL night in Seattle at the Comedy Underground!
I am in 4th place heading into the show tonight. I'm punching away for money at this point. And pride. And hoping beyond hope, perhaps, that at least two judges can see the truth of comedy and figure out that one joke told 5 different ways is still one joke.
But hey, it's putting butts in seats. Tony got robbed.
Again.
Take Me Home
My Blog About My Dad
The ever-ready, kind of rowdy Bremerton rock-a-thon!
And the FINAL night in Seattle at the Comedy Underground!
I am in 4th place heading into the show tonight. I'm punching away for money at this point. And pride. And hoping beyond hope, perhaps, that at least two judges can see the truth of comedy and figure out that one joke told 5 different ways is still one joke.
But hey, it's putting butts in seats. Tony got robbed.
Again.
Take Me Home
My Blog About My Dad
Thursday, November 22, 2007
Sea SICC
Alright, back to the blog here for ya before I hit the rack for some pre-Thanksgiving Day sleepage. Back from Vashon Island tonight from the show. Didn't do so well. Entirely my fault.
My wife is on the homestretch of a cooking marathon. Sides are all done, just gotta get the bird in the hotbox when we wake up and hope we have enough pizza for everyone.
I'm too tired to go over it all, but I'll give ya this much...
I sucked hind teat on Vashon tonight. F'ed my setlist. F'ed myself a little. This is about not shooting myself in the foot as much as it is about delivery and jokes and originality and presence and rapport. I would go further at this time, but judges of comedy don't read my blog. The judges are a microcosm of an audience we perform for. If you don't know what "microcosm" means, odds are you could be a judge at a comedy competition.
Here's the order for the night's scoring:
5) Geoff Lott (only because there isn't a 6th)
4) Key Lewis
3) Leif Skyving (went first and killed)
2) Tony Boswell (went last and killed)
1) Marcus
Thanksgiving Night we have off.
Friday night at the Kirkland Performance Center.
Saturday night in Bremerton at the Admiral Theatre.
Sunday, the final Finals night, at the Comedy Underground in Seattle.
I want, need, must see you soon.
Count your blessings, be grateful, sleep tight.
Gloves are off.
Take Me Home
My Blog About My Dad
My wife is on the homestretch of a cooking marathon. Sides are all done, just gotta get the bird in the hotbox when we wake up and hope we have enough pizza for everyone.
I'm too tired to go over it all, but I'll give ya this much...
I sucked hind teat on Vashon tonight. F'ed my setlist. F'ed myself a little. This is about not shooting myself in the foot as much as it is about delivery and jokes and originality and presence and rapport. I would go further at this time, but judges of comedy don't read my blog. The judges are a microcosm of an audience we perform for. If you don't know what "microcosm" means, odds are you could be a judge at a comedy competition.
Here's the order for the night's scoring:
5) Geoff Lott (only because there isn't a 6th)
4) Key Lewis
3) Leif Skyving (went first and killed)
2) Tony Boswell (went last and killed)
1) Marcus
Thanksgiving Night we have off.
Friday night at the Kirkland Performance Center.
Saturday night in Bremerton at the Admiral Theatre.
Sunday, the final Finals night, at the Comedy Underground in Seattle.
I want, need, must see you soon.
Count your blessings, be grateful, sleep tight.
Gloves are off.
Take Me Home
My Blog About My Dad
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
SICC Finals #1: WAC'ed Out
We all got through night 1 of the Seattle International Comedy Competition (SICC) last night at the Washington Athletic Club (WAC), in front of 117 white people (WASP), 10 Asian people (AP), and some of the help (MEX).
We are the last 5 of 32 who began this whole thing on Halloween Night in Kirkland.
The points are all that matter this week. As always, placing is about ego. Just gotta go out and do the set and have FUN. Some guys struggle at this time. I was totally in my element. I felt like I was in a club, able to get a pace and rhythm going.
So here were the scores for the first night:
5th = Leif (The Striking Viking) Skyving
T-3 = Tony (The Boss) Boswell & Geoff (Gas) Lott
2 = Marcus (Monster)
1 = Key (Lockdown) Lewis
We were all less than .25 apart, with .02 btwn 2nd & 3rd, and .11 btwn 1st and 3rd.
The response from the audience didn't reflect in all scores, which is my snarky way of saying I felt I had a better set than one judge scored me (quite low compared to other judges).
So that's that, we're underway. Afterwards, in the limo on the way to the W, the event coordinator's twin sisters told us all the story of when they got matching bikini-line tattoos. It was pretty fun. The W also charged me $9.50 for a Jameson on the rocks, so that won't happen again. BUT, much Love to Tad at the bar for his charcuterie. You got good meat, Tad. I almost didn't make it home last night, but eventually I got out of that hot tub, said good night to Barack, Salma, Reese, Mel B., J-Tims, and Tony, and had our driver get me home.
This morning I had Raisin Bran. Tonight we head to Vashon Island, and I'm excited to perform there. Also, I left my bike there last year and I need to go get it.
Tomorrow, for Thanksgiving, there's a special show at Laughs Comedy Spot, which has hosted 2 nights of the SICC. Tomorrow night's show will feature at least a few of the guys from the Finals, and the ever-hilarious Brad Upton.
Time to dance. Peace.
Take Me Home
My Blog About My Dad
Sunday, November 18, 2007
SICC 'em
Last night was the final show of the SemiFinals in Rochester.
Huge room. About 750 people. Flat, like a room you could have bingo, squaredancing, and/or tractor auctions in.
I'm just gonna get to the meat and give details later...
I AM IN THE FINALS OF THE SEATTLE INTERNATIONAL COMEDY COMPETITION, 2007!
That's Marcus, Key Lewis, Leif Skyving, our MC this week - John McClellan, Tony Boswell, and Geoffrey Lott.
I had a couple of great sets, but mostly just steady and consistent and knocking it out from venue to venue. I stayed true to my form, my jokes, and myself. Got rattled once in the 2 weeks, and had way more fun this time around.
I gotta get outta here, because we're going to the Seahawks game and we wanna tailgate.
I'll write more for ya later. Details, dirt, snark, critiques, fashion reports.
Take Me Home
My Blog About My Dad
Huge room. About 750 people. Flat, like a room you could have bingo, squaredancing, and/or tractor auctions in.
I'm just gonna get to the meat and give details later...
I AM IN THE FINALS OF THE SEATTLE INTERNATIONAL COMEDY COMPETITION, 2007!
That's Marcus, Key Lewis, Leif Skyving, our MC this week - John McClellan, Tony Boswell, and Geoffrey Lott.I had a couple of great sets, but mostly just steady and consistent and knocking it out from venue to venue. I stayed true to my form, my jokes, and myself. Got rattled once in the 2 weeks, and had way more fun this time around.
I gotta get outta here, because we're going to the Seahawks game and we wanna tailgate.
I'll write more for ya later. Details, dirt, snark, critiques, fashion reports.
Take Me Home
My Blog About My Dad
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