In 2010, I found myself close to 300 lbs. I sat in my living room while eating a sleeve of Oreo cookies - wallowing in self despair. I had let myself go. A few years prior, I was very fit. The accumulation of an abusive marriage, PTSD, crippling depression, and anxiety fueled vitriol. It was then that a commercial for P90X came on. I recalled hearing coworkers talk about it being difficult. Doing what any reasonable couch potato would do: I dove head-first into all things Beachbody. And when…
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