90 Days My Ass

Ads promise anyone can have a killer body in ninety days. All it takes is thirty minutes of exercise, three or four times a week. Results are guaranteed, or your money back.

In the eloquent words of my father, may he rest in peace: horse shit.

A perfect body has never been my goal. Not that I’d mind, of course, but I exercise for my health. Staying off medications is the goal. Any other results are just icing on the cake doughnuts I shouldn’t be eating.

Nonetheless, I was sorely disappointed after joining the gym three years ago that three months of working out had produced so little change. Seriously. I almost quit.

Eventually, getting to the gym became a priority for me. I’d like to workout three or four times a week, but life sometimes often gets in the way. I miss a workout now and then — maybe a week here and there — but I never quit.

Just once, I’d like to get all the way through a twelve-week workout programs in the prescribed time. Lately, I do well to get a week’s worth of working out into a month. Getting to the gym more than once a week hasn’t been in the cards.

Persistence is the key to success. Three years of reasonably consistent effort has paid off. I’ve never been in better shape, and although I still don’t have a killer body, you can tell I go to the gym. Just ninety more days and I’ll be ready for my after photos.