This picture was taken in Sossusvlei National Park, on the top of a sand dune, in Namibia.

I’m a travel writer. My job is designed to make me fat. If we’re not eating chicken parm on an airplane, we’re eating Twizzlers and doughnuts waiting for an airplane. If we’re not eating a ridiculous, seven-course meal at some fancy restaurant, we’re eating a Big Mac and fries at a train station. We’ll follow 34-hour flights (connecting at some airport, with more Twizzlers and doughnuts) with a 10-hour drive (more Twizzlers! more doughnuts!) and then maybe two days of food poisoning in southeast Asia—so forget working out for a few days. In fact, forget working out for a week, because those 10-hour drives are about to be followed by a few overnight bus trips down to Bangkok … and more food poisoning. I spent Thanksgiving Day last year in a hotel room in Vientiane, Laos. After arriving by bus at 3 a.m., I slept for 12 hours, ate an entire apple pie, and went back to bed. It is a great job, but a terrible lifestyle.

I should be weak, and overweight, and unhealthy. To the extent that I am not—and I have plenty of work to do on that score—I have no one to thank but Tony Horton and P90X.

I love P90X. I recently spent two and a half months in southern Africa, which meant moving to a different hotel every one or two nights, constantly eating unfamiliar and unhealthy food, and regularly sitting in a car, bus, or airplane for long stretches of time. The best thing for me about P90X is that it’s completely mobile. I’ve done P90X work outs everywhere from Jodhpur, India, to Buenos Aires, Argentina, in dozens of hotel gyms and city parks. I’ve suspended my bands (for simulated pull ups) from everything from a fence (encircling cattle) to a hotel door bracket in Curacao—which twice snapped off and smacked me squarely in the chest. I was hardly a perfect student—I considered it a massive victory if I was able to do the three weight workouts. Now that I’m back home, I’m on a more regular schedule, and without fail, every time I notice a real physical weakness (my core, my yoga practice), I inevitably realize it’s because I consistently skipped that workout. (In other words: Tony knew what was best for me, and I ignored him).

I saw the Men’s Health post about how P90X doesn’t work—and all I can say to that is I really hope that piece doesn’t keep anyone who’s considering P90X from trying it. It works for me. I was a fat kid, doing Richard Simmons routines at 11 years old and trying to get by on a cup of watered-down chicken noodle soup for meals. That didn’t work. But P90X does, hugely. At 35, I’m stronger and fitter than I’ve ever been—and that includes my two marathons. The best part about it is all the incremental victories—like just a few days ago, when I beat my own pull-up record, or yesterday, when I finally made it through (most of!) Ab Ripper X without breaks. Most important to me: I love yoga and want to be a yoga teacher. For years, I practiced up to four or five days a week, and never felt my strength improve—I always ended up in child’s pose in the middle of long downward dogs. P90X changed in three months what three (or four) years of yoga did not, and I can confidently walk into even super-tough yoga classes knowing I’ll make it through.

This is what I wanted to add: A big part of the criticism in the Men’s Health piece was snickering about the “models” behind Tony in the videos. I find that so annoying—I don’t know about other participants’ bios, but I do know a bit about Dreya Weber, whose aerial work (especially on Pink’s tour—amazing amazing) is incredible. It was a bummer to see her dismissed as just another model when she is clearly anything but.

In short: I am one of the laziest, most exercise-adverse people on the planet. I’ve done P90X for four months, and it’s changed my life, massively, for the better. I’m on P180X, subscribe to One-on-One, and bought Tony and the Folks for my mom (who loves it.) If you’re thinking about doing it, don’t think twice—bring it!