"You'll thank me for this later."
That is what SuperCuz sputtered repeatedly between sets of push-ups, squats and other various forms of torture I described during the first week of Boot Camp.
Come to think of it, that phrase was practically her mantra during the entire program (mostly prompted by my angry glances in her general direction).
For my final post, all I can say is that Thursday night would be our graduation from Boot Camp.
I have to say "would be" because we won't be there.
Sad, but true, the heat - or more likely, the unwavering Arizona August humidity - has taken it's toll on us. We finally caved to the immense pressures of wedding planning (for her) and tailgating house guests (for me).
In fact, we have let "other stuff" interfere and distract us for so long that it now seems silly to go back out there for one final night.
But don't get me wrong: Our decline of dog tags and t-shirts does NOT mean that we are dissatisfied with the outcome of Boot Camp!
SuperCuz will LOOK AWESOME in her wedding dress - and the wedding is barely 6 weeks away! (No wonder she's a stress-case these days...Sangria, anyone?)
And I certainly FEEL AWESOME after baby-wrangling a one-year old child. (To explain, we had house guests arrive this weekend from California to tailgate the Chargers/Cardinals Pre-Season football game, and the youngest Chargers' Fan wasn't quite old enough to attend the game so she was left in my care.) It didn't take long for me to calculate a simple equation: one big baby + boot-camp-buff-arms = no sweat!
So, to our fellow Boot Campers (especially those who graduate on Thursday):
We are with you in spirit!
And to SuperCuz (after almost 12 weeks of Boot Camp):
You were totally right...
*************************************************************************
I so enjoyed writing the Boot Camp Body blog that I was inspired to start a new one.
To see what we're up to in the future and keep in touch, feel free to check in with us at Where Did We Park The Camel?
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
EXTRA! EXTRA!
*******************************************
READ ALL ABOUT IT:
Lois Lane and the HeadShrinker participate in a butt-kicking, Fitness Boot Camp workout on one HOT August Arizona night!
Neither requires medical attention... However, cries for "Divine Intervention" are heard echoing through the desert!
*******************************************
READ ALL ABOUT IT:
Lois Lane and the HeadShrinker participate in a butt-kicking, Fitness Boot Camp workout on one HOT August Arizona night!
Neither requires medical attention... However, cries for "Divine Intervention" are heard echoing through the desert!
*******************************************
I am so proud of Lois Lane and the HeadShrinker.
My evening's amusement began when the 5-minute warm-up was over and the Boot Camp Guru instructed us to get our heart rates higher by "picking up the pace". Lois Lane turned to me and with an element of seriousness said, "But I thought this was a good pace right here."
Five minutes later, we were instructed to take a lap around the park where the HeadShrinker actually attempted to escape by dashing toward the street to the parked cars. Luckily, Lois Lane (who has 3 children under the age of 4 and some serious experience at latching onto a fast-moving "blur" of a human being running toward the street) grabbed the HeadShrinker and reeled her back in with the rest of us. The HeadShrinker never stood a chance against those lightning-fast, mommy-reflexes...
The evening's workout format was a Cardio Circuit - four minutes of exercise with one minute of rest, doing each exercise for one full minute, and repeating that sequence 6 to 8 times. It was a pretty typical Cardio Circuit. Nothing TOO excessive.
But, at some point, the HeadShrinker demanded to know the Boot Camp Guru's definition for "One Minute" and strongly suggested that the Guru contact her cellular provider (the cell phone is the "stop watch") to confirm that the time setting on the Guru's phone is accurate. (Because the HeadShrinker is convinced that "one minute" in her world isn't the same as "one minute" in the Guru's.)
I also really had to laugh at the HeadShrinker's "clinical assessment" which she blurted out after nearly 60 minutes of exercise in extreme heat: "In my professional opinion, you're ALL crazy!" (Well, HeadShrinker... Think about it. If you moved back to Arizona, you'd have a dozen Boot Campers to analyze this month alone!)
Regardless of the giggles I got from these two during the workout (which only make abs and push-ups that much harder), in the end, Lois Lane got the last laugh...
As we were saying our good-byes, she pointed out to me that she only writes the stories and that ultimately, her husband, Clark Kent (a.k.a. Superman, no relation to SuperCuz), is the one in charge of the layout and design.
That means that Clark Kent, not Lois Lane, will select which photos will be printed on the newspaper page to accompany the articles.
This may not sound like a problem, but I assure you it is.
You see, a few years ago there was a certain "Exploding Golf Ball" incident during Clark Kent's days as a Triple Bogey. And, if he's still harboring any bad feelings or ill-will toward my participation in the whole episode (because admittedly, I was the Internet shopper who found and purchased the exploding golf ball, but Hubby and the SportsGeek - the other two Triple Bogeys - were the ones who schemed the whole idea!), then I'm in trouble, because none of the photos that will go to press are going to be exceptionally flattering of me.
I begged Lois Lane for some potential peace-offerings or bribes for Clark Kent, but she was unwilling to enter into any - ANY - negotiations until this morning when she determined how sore she felt after her night at Boot Camp.
With any luck, she'll feel AWESOME!
So, basically, more than everyone else in the class, I fear the photos that will be on the page because of my involvement in a "harmless prank" committed in my "youth".
Yet, regardless of the photos that find their way into the paper, I had a blast out there last night with two of my friends.
Monday, August 13, 2007
NEWSFLASH!
THIS JUST IN:
There are TWO Special Guests en route for Boot Camp this evening: Lois Lane and the HeadShrinker!
Watch out, Ladies... With a heat advisory in place, Boot Camp's gonna be HOT! HOT! HOT!
There are TWO Special Guests en route for Boot Camp this evening: Lois Lane and the HeadShrinker!
Watch out, Ladies... With a heat advisory in place, Boot Camp's gonna be HOT! HOT! HOT!
Friday, August 10, 2007
Gimme a P! A! I! N!
My calves are officially in PAIN.
Wednesday night, I woke up 5 times. FIVE times.
Granted, twice it was strictly a potty break for me or the dog since Soprano and I were built with the same size bladder. (Without fail, neither one of us can make it through the night without a little "relief".)
However, the other three times I woke up braced for the mind-numbing, body-tensing, muscle-gripping ACHE of a Charlie Horse in not one, but BOTH calves.
Each time I threw off the covers, jumped out of bed and tried desperately to stretch the muscle in both calves that extends up behind the knee.
Despite the pain, I managed to make it through work on Thursday. And admittedly, I was a little apprehensive about attending a Boot Camp session with this much "hurt" happening in the back of my legs.
I decided to "snack" on a couple hundred milligrams of Motrin at about 4:00 PM, and finally mustered the strength to leave my comfy, nap-like state on the couch and go exercise at around 6:00.
To be honest, I summoned the energy to leave my house by envisioning the MonkeyWhisperer and the HeadShrinker standing in my kitchen, holding my water bottle and the keys to my car.
And as long as I'm being honest, I tried to generate the same image starring the BandGirl, but all I could see was the BandGirl next to me on my couch, doubled-over in a fit of laughter. While it was an amusing image, it wasn't a very useful motivational tool...
When I arrived at Boot Camp, I was paired for Partner Night with the Cheerleader (a self-proclaimed small-town, Midwestern girl, with a cute little body, perpetual smile and a long blond ponytail to complete the mental picture).
Working with the Cheerleader, a fellow 12-week Boot Camper, proved to be exactly the dose of enthusiasm and spunk that I needed to recharge my spirit and make it through the night.
It started with a dare from me: "We've been here longest. We should be able to outlast all these newbies in the squat-til-you-drop challenge, Cheerleader!"
And we did.
Then we were directed to run/walk/jog a lap around the park.
And that's when she dared me: "Hey Blogger, there's no SuperCuz to protect you now, so you're running with ME tonight, and you're going to run past the farthest point you've ever run on this track."
And I did!
The Cheerleader and I blasted our way through Partner Push-ups, TWO SETS of military-style sit-ups, countless other endurance activities and even an extra lap around the park. All in all, it was an exceptionally tough workout. (Either that, or the break between our 2nd and 3rd session has been harder on us than we care to admit.)
So, at the end of the evening, the Boot Camp Guru announced that we are going to have a special guest Monday night. And in honor of that special guest, she announced that the workout will be "especially tough".
I dread the repercussions of this workout. Not just from my fellow Boot Campers, but from the guest of honor as well.
You see, the "special guest" is my friend Lois Lane, who has not only accepted my invitation to get a first-hand glimpse of Boot Camp, she's also agreed to write an article about it for the newspaper that claims her soul for 40 hours a week.
So, brace yourself Boot Campers...
I'm not sure what kind of ride we're in for on Monday night, but I'm afraid the pain we experience will all be traced back to me.
Wednesday night, I woke up 5 times. FIVE times.
Granted, twice it was strictly a potty break for me or the dog since Soprano and I were built with the same size bladder. (Without fail, neither one of us can make it through the night without a little "relief".)
However, the other three times I woke up braced for the mind-numbing, body-tensing, muscle-gripping ACHE of a Charlie Horse in not one, but BOTH calves.
Each time I threw off the covers, jumped out of bed and tried desperately to stretch the muscle in both calves that extends up behind the knee.
Despite the pain, I managed to make it through work on Thursday. And admittedly, I was a little apprehensive about attending a Boot Camp session with this much "hurt" happening in the back of my legs.
I decided to "snack" on a couple hundred milligrams of Motrin at about 4:00 PM, and finally mustered the strength to leave my comfy, nap-like state on the couch and go exercise at around 6:00.
To be honest, I summoned the energy to leave my house by envisioning the MonkeyWhisperer and the HeadShrinker standing in my kitchen, holding my water bottle and the keys to my car.
And as long as I'm being honest, I tried to generate the same image starring the BandGirl, but all I could see was the BandGirl next to me on my couch, doubled-over in a fit of laughter. While it was an amusing image, it wasn't a very useful motivational tool...
When I arrived at Boot Camp, I was paired for Partner Night with the Cheerleader (a self-proclaimed small-town, Midwestern girl, with a cute little body, perpetual smile and a long blond ponytail to complete the mental picture).
Working with the Cheerleader, a fellow 12-week Boot Camper, proved to be exactly the dose of enthusiasm and spunk that I needed to recharge my spirit and make it through the night.
It started with a dare from me: "We've been here longest. We should be able to outlast all these newbies in the squat-til-you-drop challenge, Cheerleader!"
And we did.
Then we were directed to run/walk/jog a lap around the park.
And that's when she dared me: "Hey Blogger, there's no SuperCuz to protect you now, so you're running with ME tonight, and you're going to run past the farthest point you've ever run on this track."
And I did!
The Cheerleader and I blasted our way through Partner Push-ups, TWO SETS of military-style sit-ups, countless other endurance activities and even an extra lap around the park. All in all, it was an exceptionally tough workout. (Either that, or the break between our 2nd and 3rd session has been harder on us than we care to admit.)
So, at the end of the evening, the Boot Camp Guru announced that we are going to have a special guest Monday night. And in honor of that special guest, she announced that the workout will be "especially tough".
I dread the repercussions of this workout. Not just from my fellow Boot Campers, but from the guest of honor as well.
You see, the "special guest" is my friend Lois Lane, who has not only accepted my invitation to get a first-hand glimpse of Boot Camp, she's also agreed to write an article about it for the newspaper that claims her soul for 40 hours a week.
So, brace yourself Boot Campers...
I'm not sure what kind of ride we're in for on Monday night, but I'm afraid the pain we experience will all be traced back to me.
Tuesday, August 7, 2007
THAT'S RIGHT. CLAP NOW.
BECAUSE TOMORROW YOU WON'T BE ABLE TO LIFT YOUR ARMS.
SuperCuz and I began our 3rd month of Boot Camp last night. Can you believe that?
She and I have survived 25 days of Boot Camp!
Not only THAT, but we have lived to tell about it!
And, let me tell you this... Last night was pure Hell. It was Buns-Of-Steel meets The Wall-times-two in a B-A-D way.
Sadly, it was also the newest Boot Campers' introduction to Fitness Boot Camp.
Yup. You heard me.
These poor souls didn't even get to "ease" into the whole physical challenge element of it all. The newest Boot Campers jumped right in to scorching hot AZ summer-evening temperatures with a sticky dash of August humidity mixed with muscle fatigue, dehydration, and a fear of the unknown.
And let me tell you, Ladies... after two months of Fitness Boot Camp, SuperCuz and I "know" and we're still afraid.
So, after the "No Butts About It" workout Monday night, I'm honestly not sure how many of the new Boot Campers will come back...
Although, I certainly hope we have more people finish THIS class than the LAST one!
There was a break of one week between the 2nd and 3rd session. Just seven little, insignificant days off.
And now, one killer butt-workout routine later, I've been tapping the Motrin bottle today for a week's worth of milligrams in one day's time.
My backside is still the Jell-o-like substance it was last night. Only now it hurts more when it jiggles.
Or when I change position from "sit" to "stand".
And walking in heels wasn't pleasant today either.
At the end of the lower body work out last night, the Boot Camp Guru informed us to "be prepared for Tuesday". She said she had something exceptionally "fun" in mind for our arms.
So, that's why I'm blogging now...
Because I learned today that after one week's vacation from the "let's start with 40 push-ups" crap, my upper body is in for a world-of-hurt tonight.
My experienced guess is that I won't be able to lift my arms to the keyboard by 9PM.
SuperCuz and I began our 3rd month of Boot Camp last night. Can you believe that?
She and I have survived 25 days of Boot Camp!
Not only THAT, but we have lived to tell about it!
And, let me tell you this... Last night was pure Hell. It was Buns-Of-Steel meets The Wall-times-two in a B-A-D way.
Sadly, it was also the newest Boot Campers' introduction to Fitness Boot Camp.
Yup. You heard me.
These poor souls didn't even get to "ease" into the whole physical challenge element of it all. The newest Boot Campers jumped right in to scorching hot AZ summer-evening temperatures with a sticky dash of August humidity mixed with muscle fatigue, dehydration, and a fear of the unknown.
And let me tell you, Ladies... after two months of Fitness Boot Camp, SuperCuz and I "know" and we're still afraid.
So, after the "No Butts About It" workout Monday night, I'm honestly not sure how many of the new Boot Campers will come back...
Although, I certainly hope we have more people finish THIS class than the LAST one!
There was a break of one week between the 2nd and 3rd session. Just seven little, insignificant days off.
And now, one killer butt-workout routine later, I've been tapping the Motrin bottle today for a week's worth of milligrams in one day's time.
My backside is still the Jell-o-like substance it was last night. Only now it hurts more when it jiggles.
Or when I change position from "sit" to "stand".
And walking in heels wasn't pleasant today either.
At the end of the lower body work out last night, the Boot Camp Guru informed us to "be prepared for Tuesday". She said she had something exceptionally "fun" in mind for our arms.
So, that's why I'm blogging now...
Because I learned today that after one week's vacation from the "let's start with 40 push-ups" crap, my upper body is in for a world-of-hurt tonight.
My experienced guess is that I won't be able to lift my arms to the keyboard by 9PM.
Friday, July 27, 2007
The Final Two
TWO.
As in, "just me and SuperCuz".
Yes, you read that correctly.
Four weeks ago, the Boot Camp session began with 19 people. And last night, it ended with two.
Seriously, that's the same number of people that board a boat, jump into the ocean and swim to an island with a name I often can't pronounce OR spell, let alone locate on a map. (Ed. Note: My lack of geographical knowledge is Hubby's only job security. My daily struggle with N/S/E/W is also why he's overly-confident that I'll never abandon him at the gas station on a road trip no matter how much I threaten.) Then, these crazy people divide into teams, eat bugs and stuff, create alliances and compete for the Grand Prize: $1,000,000 and the title of "Sole Survivor".
If you have electricity and a big box with moving pictures located anywhere in your house, you've probably at least seen the commercials for this "reality" TV show (even if you won't admit to watching it).
I mentioned in an earlier post that SuperCuz and I planned to drive to San Diego as our "reward for Outwitting, Outplaying and Outlasting our fellow Boot Campers", but I didn't realize that everyone thought I meant that literally.
On the last night of our 8th week, it was just the two of us. We were face-to-face with the Boot Camp Guru.
No where to run.
No where to hide.
So, after a brutally tough workout, SuperCuz and I are now wholeheartedly ready to embrace our "reward"...
We are headed to San Diego (as soon as I cut loose from my chains of employment) for a few brief moments of rest and relaxation with WallStreet and a few other friends.
The car is loaded with beach chairs, bedding and Seasons One and Two of The Office.
We are already day-dreaming about beautiful weather (anything lacking heat and humidity will do), a wicked game of Jungle Uno and (more than) our share of frosty adult beverages.
And, since there were only two of us out there in the desert last night, SuperCuz and I were pretty much awarded the title of "Sole Survivors".
The only thing that could make this weekend any better is if we both had been handed a check for a million dollars to go with it.
Friday, July 20, 2007
And This One Time at BOOT Camp...
The BandGirl came to my rescue.
_____________________________________________________________
*The following is an actual conversation between BandGirl and me (The Blogger) recorded on Tuesday, July 17, 2007:
Me: Hey. What have you guys got planned for Thursday night?
BandGirl: Uhm, nothing. We're pretty much available. What did you have in mind?
Me: Boot Camp.
BandGirl: Silence.
Me: No really, you should try it! It's so much FUN! Trust me, you're gonna love it... Have I ever steered you wrong? OK, don't answer that. This time will be different. I'm right, and you'll have a blast!
BandGirl: Well, can we wait and see how I feel on Thursday? (cough, cough, gasp, wheeze)
Me: OK, but I sense that you're just trying to manipulate this situation here.
BandGirl: Who me? I would never even think of such a thing...
Me: Well then you be sure to get plenty of rest and drink lots of fluids. And, hopefully you'll feel better by Thursday because Thursday is Partner Night, and with SuperCuz gone, I won't have a partner unless you're there. But I'm sure the Boot Camp Guru could pair me up with someone else if you're too sick so that I won't be stuck by myself on Partner night, without a partner. Maybe someone else will be my friend for one night. (big sigh...)
BandGirl: Now who's manipulating the situation here?
_____________________________________________________________
On Thursday, I called BandGirl at 4 PM and, thanks to the wonders of technology, before I had one word out, she answered the phone with: "I'm already hydrating."
(Yippee!)
I called BandGirl again at 6:30 PM and (again, thanks to Caller ID) before I had spoken one word, she answered the phone with: "Are you checking up on me to see if I've turned this car around?"
(Guilty.)
After 16 years, we know each other entirely too well.
True to her word, BandGirl arrived 15 minutes before 7 PM - plenty of time to avoid the EVIL, late-arrival penalty of Mountain Climbers.
Unfortunately, it was also plenty of time for my fellow Boot Campers, Paris & Nicole, to intimidate her. And, yes, our Boot Camp is populated with two high-society body sculptors. (Well, actually they're two smoking hot look-alikes with scintillating personalities, which is even better than the real thing, if you ask my opinion.)
(And before I get hounded with questions, YES they BOTH have BOYFRIENDS.)
I believe their exact words were, "She's not a real friend. You should run. Run away. Or better yet, you take my place here and I'll go home."
The theme of the evening was Warrior Games and I have never been more relieved in my life.
You see, SuperCuz can be super competitive. But, BandGirl and I have spent literally half our lives perfecting the art of Joint Venture Partnerships in all things competitive.
It has driven our friends and husbands crazy for years, but every board game from Monopoly to Life (not to mention every card game, sporting event and teen-age-boy-crush in between) begins with two separate and individual teams and ends with a game-negotiated merger of our dynamic duo working as a finely-tuned pair with the brain power and resources to kick everyone else's butt.
Big time.
Together, we are a winners-take-all-and-hubbies-do-the-dishes powerhouse. And that's exactly how we like it.
Warrior Games put us both to the test, but as usual, it took about 10 minutes for us to mentally calculate and non-verbally communicate that we would survive the remaining 50 minutes of physical torture better if we worked together.
Every 10 minutes, the Boot Camp Guru dutifully asked, "BandGirl, are you doing OK?" To which she always supplied the correct answer, "Yeah. I'm just awesome."
And every 10 minutes, I dutifully asked, "BandGirl, do you still love me?" To which she responded each time, "Yes, but maybe this much less," with her fingers pinched to demonstrate precisely how much love was lost with each passing 10 minute interval.
I thought I was completely forgiven last night when she text messaged me an hour after Boot Camp to tell me that she "felt fantastic".
But, tonight when she offered to make me dinner, my suspicions were raised. I had to re-evaluate the invitation.
Not only was I already out to dinner and a movie with SportsGeek, but based on my experience after six weeks of Boot Camp, I knew the chances were greater that the aches and pains might only be kicking in 24 hours later.
And, somewhere deep inside of me, a nagging little voice suggested that Hubby (who has the "Stomach of Steel" because he eats food out of the refrigerator that I don't deem fit to feed our dogs - and, who is currently in Pittsburgh with the HeadShrinker's hubby) should be with me if I was going to eat anything the BandGirl provides.
Why, you ask?
Because after two minutes of Partner Push-ups (her favorite exercise of them all, I'm certain), something tells me I might need a food-taster for a while at the BandHouse!
_____________________________________________________________
On a Personal Note:
BandGirl: You were so brave! Thanks again for coming with me Thursday night.
SuperCuz: I've missed you this week more than you know!
MonkeyWhisperer and HeadShrinker: If you weren't (out of my reach and) on opposite coasts, I know you'd be out there with me, RIGHT?
Lumberjack Lady: If you're reading this, the invitation is always open to come with me on a Thursday night.
Lois Lane: I can't WAIT for you to try this with me...I'm totally looking forward to August!
_____________________________________________________________
*The following is an actual conversation between BandGirl and me (The Blogger) recorded on Tuesday, July 17, 2007:
Me: Hey. What have you guys got planned for Thursday night?
BandGirl: Uhm, nothing. We're pretty much available. What did you have in mind?
Me: Boot Camp.
BandGirl: Silence.
Me: No really, you should try it! It's so much FUN! Trust me, you're gonna love it... Have I ever steered you wrong? OK, don't answer that. This time will be different. I'm right, and you'll have a blast!
BandGirl: Well, can we wait and see how I feel on Thursday? (cough, cough, gasp, wheeze)
Me: OK, but I sense that you're just trying to manipulate this situation here.
BandGirl: Who me? I would never even think of such a thing...
Me: Well then you be sure to get plenty of rest and drink lots of fluids. And, hopefully you'll feel better by Thursday because Thursday is Partner Night, and with SuperCuz gone, I won't have a partner unless you're there. But I'm sure the Boot Camp Guru could pair me up with someone else if you're too sick so that I won't be stuck by myself on Partner night, without a partner. Maybe someone else will be my friend for one night. (big sigh...)
BandGirl: Now who's manipulating the situation here?
_____________________________________________________________
On Thursday, I called BandGirl at 4 PM and, thanks to the wonders of technology, before I had one word out, she answered the phone with: "I'm already hydrating."
(Yippee!)
I called BandGirl again at 6:30 PM and (again, thanks to Caller ID) before I had spoken one word, she answered the phone with: "Are you checking up on me to see if I've turned this car around?"
(Guilty.)
After 16 years, we know each other entirely too well.
True to her word, BandGirl arrived 15 minutes before 7 PM - plenty of time to avoid the EVIL, late-arrival penalty of Mountain Climbers.
Unfortunately, it was also plenty of time for my fellow Boot Campers, Paris & Nicole, to intimidate her. And, yes, our Boot Camp is populated with two high-society body sculptors. (Well, actually they're two smoking hot look-alikes with scintillating personalities, which is even better than the real thing, if you ask my opinion.)
(And before I get hounded with questions, YES they BOTH have BOYFRIENDS.)
I believe their exact words were, "She's not a real friend. You should run. Run away. Or better yet, you take my place here and I'll go home."
The theme of the evening was Warrior Games and I have never been more relieved in my life.
You see, SuperCuz can be super competitive. But, BandGirl and I have spent literally half our lives perfecting the art of Joint Venture Partnerships in all things competitive.
It has driven our friends and husbands crazy for years, but every board game from Monopoly to Life (not to mention every card game, sporting event and teen-age-boy-crush in between) begins with two separate and individual teams and ends with a game-negotiated merger of our dynamic duo working as a finely-tuned pair with the brain power and resources to kick everyone else's butt.
Big time.
Together, we are a winners-take-all-and-hubbies-do-the-dishes powerhouse. And that's exactly how we like it.
Warrior Games put us both to the test, but as usual, it took about 10 minutes for us to mentally calculate and non-verbally communicate that we would survive the remaining 50 minutes of physical torture better if we worked together.
Every 10 minutes, the Boot Camp Guru dutifully asked, "BandGirl, are you doing OK?" To which she always supplied the correct answer, "Yeah. I'm just awesome."
And every 10 minutes, I dutifully asked, "BandGirl, do you still love me?" To which she responded each time, "Yes, but maybe this much less," with her fingers pinched to demonstrate precisely how much love was lost with each passing 10 minute interval.
I thought I was completely forgiven last night when she text messaged me an hour after Boot Camp to tell me that she "felt fantastic".
But, tonight when she offered to make me dinner, my suspicions were raised. I had to re-evaluate the invitation.
Not only was I already out to dinner and a movie with SportsGeek, but based on my experience after six weeks of Boot Camp, I knew the chances were greater that the aches and pains might only be kicking in 24 hours later.
And, somewhere deep inside of me, a nagging little voice suggested that Hubby (who has the "Stomach of Steel" because he eats food out of the refrigerator that I don't deem fit to feed our dogs - and, who is currently in Pittsburgh with the HeadShrinker's hubby) should be with me if I was going to eat anything the BandGirl provides.
Why, you ask?
Because after two minutes of Partner Push-ups (her favorite exercise of them all, I'm certain), something tells me I might need a food-taster for a while at the BandHouse!
_____________________________________________________________
On a Personal Note:
BandGirl: You were so brave! Thanks again for coming with me Thursday night.
SuperCuz: I've missed you this week more than you know!
MonkeyWhisperer and HeadShrinker: If you weren't (out of my reach and) on opposite coasts, I know you'd be out there with me, RIGHT?
Lumberjack Lady: If you're reading this, the invitation is always open to come with me on a Thursday night.
Lois Lane: I can't WAIT for you to try this with me...I'm totally looking forward to August!
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Blogging...On Demand
OK, so there's been a few complaints that I haven't blogged in a while.
I'm not going to name names, but if you were within earshot of the park on Tuesday, you would have heard everyone asking for more (and I don't mean more dips, squats, push-ups or laps).
Let me explain: I haven't checked in because I haven't had TIME.
With Boot Camp on my social calendar three nights a week, I don't have a lot of extra days to do other stuff (like laundry, and believe me - my fellow Boot Campers would have MORE to complain about it I started each night smelling like the last night's Boot Camp).
Last week, I only had Wednesday night to get everything ready for our trip to CA. On Friday, four of us, (Hubby, SportsGeek and our photographer-friend SnapShot and I) drove to CA so that the 3 boys could hike 13 miles up one side of a mountain and down the other and I could drive back on Sunday (because the boys were heavily medicated with Motrin afterward).
And if you're wondering why I didn't hike that hill, let me tell you... Boot Camp is ENOUGH insanity for me. Thank you very much.
It's one thing to kill myself outdoors in the sweltering summer heat of Arizona, but it's a whole 'nother thing to kill myself on an incline!
I don't do inclines. Therefore, I don't do hikes.
And this week, I haven't felt like blogging because something (actually, someone) has been missing...
SuperCuz!
With some out-of-town family visiting this week, SuperCuz (abandoned me and) took the week off.
I don't know... Maybe her relatives didn't check the weather reports before booking their tickets to Phoenix in the middle of the summer, or maybe they just didn't mind triple-digit heat with a touch of monsoonal humidity when they dreamed up these exotic vacation travel plans to the Southwest. Either way, they're here and she's not...
And, it's just not Boot Camp if I don't get into trouble for talking during Cool Down... and since SuperCuz has been gone, I haven't been "shhh-ed" once during Cool Down, so it's just not the same.
So now I'm off to face Partner Night...without my (usual) partner in crime.
I'm not going to name names, but if you were within earshot of the park on Tuesday, you would have heard everyone asking for more (and I don't mean more dips, squats, push-ups or laps).
Let me explain: I haven't checked in because I haven't had TIME.
With Boot Camp on my social calendar three nights a week, I don't have a lot of extra days to do other stuff (like laundry, and believe me - my fellow Boot Campers would have MORE to complain about it I started each night smelling like the last night's Boot Camp).
Last week, I only had Wednesday night to get everything ready for our trip to CA. On Friday, four of us, (Hubby, SportsGeek and our photographer-friend SnapShot and I) drove to CA so that the 3 boys could hike 13 miles up one side of a mountain and down the other and I could drive back on Sunday (because the boys were heavily medicated with Motrin afterward).
And if you're wondering why I didn't hike that hill, let me tell you... Boot Camp is ENOUGH insanity for me. Thank you very much.
It's one thing to kill myself outdoors in the sweltering summer heat of Arizona, but it's a whole 'nother thing to kill myself on an incline!
I don't do inclines. Therefore, I don't do hikes.
And this week, I haven't felt like blogging because something (actually, someone) has been missing...
SuperCuz!
With some out-of-town family visiting this week, SuperCuz (abandoned me and) took the week off.
I don't know... Maybe her relatives didn't check the weather reports before booking their tickets to Phoenix in the middle of the summer, or maybe they just didn't mind triple-digit heat with a touch of monsoonal humidity when they dreamed up these exotic vacation travel plans to the Southwest. Either way, they're here and she's not...
And, it's just not Boot Camp if I don't get into trouble for talking during Cool Down... and since SuperCuz has been gone, I haven't been "shhh-ed" once during Cool Down, so it's just not the same.
So now I'm off to face Partner Night...without my (usual) partner in crime.
Wednesday, July 4, 2007
Wild, Wild West
I feel as though I've ridden a horse...
...to Hell and back again.
I can't describe for you the exact location of my current set of aches and pains. Nor can I tell you precisely which exercise has caused me to drain the Motrin bottle once again.
All I do know is that it hurts "somewhere" below my waist and above my knees, mostly along my backside and ALL up through my inner thighs.
Basically, I spent the entire day walking around the house looking as though I just hitched up my horse, Trigger, at a watering hole in Tombstone after a long day's ride.
If I'd thought about it earlier, I could have attached a water gun to my belt just to emphasize my "awkward" stride.
And if I had, maybe the Hubby would have taken my challenge to a duel a little more seriously after he ate the last milk chocolate candy in the fridge... Remember, Cowboy, I'll see you at Dawn.
I realize that I live in Arizona and all, but this is ridiculous.
I shouldn't have spent the day walking as if I've just stepped off of an episode of Bonanza.
Initially, I shrugged it all off as "the aches associated with Day 1 of Boot Camp" since the new Boot Camp session started Monday.
The only problem is that Monday marked DAY 13 for me and SuperCuz. (So maybe I can classify this as "sympathy pain" for the new Boot Campers?)
As promised, the Boot Camp Guru has mixed up our workouts again, and on Days 13 and 14 she was especially evil.
Monday we participated in the lower body workout she titled "No Butts About It" and believe me there were no "buts" that night. If I had to guess, I'd say that the inner thigh ache probably began with 'a few' (like 20!) leg hikes on The Wall, compounded by 'some' (like 40!) pendulum leg swings under the Ramada.
Tuesday's "Are You 'UP' To The Challenge" workout focused on our upper body, while still managing to tax the lower half as well - bonus! We started with 4 sets of Dips and 4 sets of Arizona Angels...for 1 minute each EACH set. Add to it 30 Jump Squats and the Inner/Outer Thigh Kicks until each leg felt "awesome" and that's probably what did me in.
Thankfully, today is the 4th of July. I've had the day off and spent the entire day stretching and popping Motrin like Skittles.
So, as for tomorrow, all I have to say is: "Saddle up, Ladies. Let's ride."
...to Hell and back again.
I can't describe for you the exact location of my current set of aches and pains. Nor can I tell you precisely which exercise has caused me to drain the Motrin bottle once again.
All I do know is that it hurts "somewhere" below my waist and above my knees, mostly along my backside and ALL up through my inner thighs.
Basically, I spent the entire day walking around the house looking as though I just hitched up my horse, Trigger, at a watering hole in Tombstone after a long day's ride.
If I'd thought about it earlier, I could have attached a water gun to my belt just to emphasize my "awkward" stride.
And if I had, maybe the Hubby would have taken my challenge to a duel a little more seriously after he ate the last milk chocolate candy in the fridge... Remember, Cowboy, I'll see you at Dawn.
I realize that I live in Arizona and all, but this is ridiculous.
I shouldn't have spent the day walking as if I've just stepped off of an episode of Bonanza.
Initially, I shrugged it all off as "the aches associated with Day 1 of Boot Camp" since the new Boot Camp session started Monday.
The only problem is that Monday marked DAY 13 for me and SuperCuz. (So maybe I can classify this as "sympathy pain" for the new Boot Campers?)
As promised, the Boot Camp Guru has mixed up our workouts again, and on Days 13 and 14 she was especially evil.
Monday we participated in the lower body workout she titled "No Butts About It" and believe me there were no "buts" that night. If I had to guess, I'd say that the inner thigh ache probably began with 'a few' (like 20!) leg hikes on The Wall, compounded by 'some' (like 40!) pendulum leg swings under the Ramada.
Tuesday's "Are You 'UP' To The Challenge" workout focused on our upper body, while still managing to tax the lower half as well - bonus! We started with 4 sets of Dips and 4 sets of Arizona Angels...for 1 minute each EACH set. Add to it 30 Jump Squats and the Inner/Outer Thigh Kicks until each leg felt "awesome" and that's probably what did me in.
Thankfully, today is the 4th of July. I've had the day off and spent the entire day stretching and popping Motrin like Skittles.
So, as for tomorrow, all I have to say is: "Saddle up, Ladies. Let's ride."
Monday, July 2, 2007
MISSING / REWARD
Description: Woman's "Ample" Bosom.
Also known as: "The Girls" and/or "Thelma & Louise".
Last seen: 3-year time period prior to Ladies' Fitness Boot Camp.
Chest holds tremendous sentimental value to Owner.
Hubby offering cash reward if found and returned.
*************************************************************************************
Also known as: "The Girls" and/or "Thelma & Louise".
Last seen: 3-year time period prior to Ladies' Fitness Boot Camp.
Chest holds tremendous sentimental value to Owner.
Hubby offering cash reward if found and returned.
*************************************************************************************
I must accept that bodily changes do not occur instantly or even overnight, for that matter.
But this fact would certainly be a whole lot easier to fathom IF my bust and hips were "deflating" at the SAME rate.
Proportion, people!
That's ALL I'm asking for in this oh-so-S-L-O-W weight loss process.
Well, OK...maybe that, and the ability to select the specific area and precise amount of weight loss, too. But that would be greedy.
Regardless of the length of time it takes for my body to alter its present form, I do have one reason to offer genuine thanks and praise... At least with Boot Camp, I haven't relived the same horror I experienced during my first month of lap swimming.
I'm grateful that the "top", while it may be shrinking faster than the "bottom", is at least shrinking symmetrically. (A word of advice for the novice female swimmer: Learn to breathe on both the right and left side to even your "floaties".)
Admittedly, the dramatic change in cup size has been my cause for concern for the last 3 years. It's been (just a little bit) distressing to see "letters", which on a Report Card might otherwise indicate substantial improvement in study habits, mark the disappearance of friends I once flaunted.
Although the BandGirl has assured me that I'm not (yet) in danger of requiring my old training bra (which is good because I actually skipped that stage in life), the possibility of "artificial enhancement" has crossed my mind occasionally... (But that thought is typically only set in motion when given a shove by someone or something else.)
Two weeks ago, on our drive to California, I spotted a billboard along the I-10 Freeway. The sign was for the Desert Plastic Surgery Center in Palm Desert where Dr. Marcinkus advertised that he can help you "Look Your Best" with Breast Augmentation for "$3500 OR just $50 a month".
Now, I'm a "numbers" girl, so it took about 1.5 seconds for me to whip out the mental calculator (and the cell phone for precision) to calculate that at $50 a month (only 70 monthly payments) the good doctor was offering the "Chest of Your Dreams" in just 6 short years.
If I'm not mistaken, there are car loans shorter than that.
The advertisement immediately became the lighthearted topic of conversation between the Hubby and I. (Because when we're together, even the most serious topics - like surgical procedures - are subjected to our immature, twisted sense of humor.)
We were in the process of determining the ludicrous "potential" terms of the payment plan offered, and then we arrived at the absurd possibility that with each $50 payment the doctor might inflate JUST ONE SIDE of your chest.
With impeccable timing, my friend the PornStar randomly called my cell phone and managed to briefly join our "deep" discussion about boob jobs. Equally sharing my concern for "proportion", he made a fantastic suggestion. (One that I'm sure he'll help me remember...always. And if he doesn't, WallStreet most certainly will.)
Based on my experience at the beginning stages of lap swimming (which I shared with all my friends, men and women alike), I'd have to a say that the PornStar is right. It would be worth coughing up a little extra cash to make two payments (paying $100 a month) so that both sides are equally inflated each time. As the PornStar said, this reduces the risk of a "noticeable imbalance" and alleviates the possibility that one side might accidentally get an extra "pump" somewhere along the way.
But, since surgery honestly isn't in my plan any time soon, if ever at all, I'll just stick with the padded bra (my first - EVER) for now.
I can already imagine the echoes of roaring laughter I'll hear when my "nearest and dearest" girl friends (specifically: the BandGirl, the MonkeyWhisperer, the HeadShrinker, the Roomie and Gadget Girl) get an email from me at the end of my weight loss journey titled:
"ARE YOU ALL HAPPY NOW?!?".
Sadly, that day is coming...
(After all, I'm wearing the padded bra again today.)
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Instant Gratification
WEEK 4 REPORT: Still no buns of steel...
Seriously, am I asking for too much, here?
For Pete's sake... I feel "the burn". Everyone in the class feels "the burn".
After all, we have just spent the last 4 weeks OUTDOORS in ARIZONA from 6:59 PM (because there's extra torture - namely, Mountain Climbers - for those who fall victim to afternoon rush hour traffic and arrive 1 second past 7PM) to 8:30 PM.
We Lunge and Squat on concrete that has absorbed the sun's rays all day long only to radiate that ungodly heat back at us from below. If The Wall isn't melting the rubber soles off our sneakers, it's burning the top layer of skin off our hands during those evil Raised Wall Push-Ups. And the metallic park benches (yeah, I wanna know who's genius idea those were) sizzle whatever skin is left on those same scorched palms with each and every Dip.
Let me be perfectly clear (especially for those of you who have moved away from the Valley of the Sun and conveniently "forgotten" what it's like to have FORD branded on your thigh by your seat belt): If we were "nuts", the evening Boot Camp session would classify as the "oven-roasted" variety.
We are exercising, no scratch that... We are strenuously exercising in temperatures that puts Bikram Yoga to shame. And, as we hear it told in the evenings, the morning Boot Campers have whined about 78 degrees.
WHINED ABOUT 78 DEGREES?!?
How could you possibly whine about 78 degrees? What? Are you COLD or something?
And, don't even try to tell me that you ladies have it sooo much harder because it's early...
You're talking to the Queen of Early Rising! Last year I was up at 3:30 AM and jumping into an icy pool to swim laps at 4AM for 2 hours every morning. (And yes, many friends questioned my sanity.)
Admittedly, this year, I've taken it easy on myself and I am now getting up with the Hubby's alarm clock. But his alarm goes off at 4:30 AM and I'm in the pool for laps by 5 AM - in addition to Boot Camp. (And yes, my friends are questioning my sanity again thanks to Boot Camp.)
As I hear it, I think the only real complaint that the morning Boot Campers could possibly have has something to do with Stadium Steps, and for anything regarding "stairs" you have my empathy.
So, I realized this morning that Monday, June 25th, marked the 3rd Anniversary of "The New Me".
Three years ago, I left dinner with the BandGirl and her mom and I signed a 2-year gym contract, making a lasting (and expensive) commitment to improve my health (before pregnancy).
The first thing I did was jump into a water aerobics class. I quickly realized that I was horribly out of shape when "The Water Ladies" (a group of senior citizens who were in the 6AM Aqua Aerobics class 5 days a week) danced circles around me while chatting and I was breathless and struggled to last the full 55 minutes of the class.
One month later, I was heading to the gym 5-days a week on my way to work and working with a personal trainer who helped me re-program my brain to believe that fitness was more "fun" and less "chore". Within 6 months, I was a full-fledged gym-junkie (6-7 days a week!), annoyed and irritable if I didn't get my daily dose of endorphins.
When the gym closed down, I bounced around until I found my new home-away-from-home at LA Fitness. That's when I discovered a REAL lap pool (and how exhausting it is to swim it!). After just two months of laps, I swam my first full mile freestyle and one year ago (on the 4th of July weekend) I swam 3 miles in about 2.5 hours. I had the time, and I simply wanted to see "how far I could go". Honestly, I only stopped because I figured I was so pruned that my fingertips wouldn't un-pucker for about a week (and people were lining up to use the lanes).
So now I'm here... 3 years later and 50 pounds less.
I am graduating my first Boot Camp Session tomorrow.
More importantly, I am already signed up for the next one.
And MOST importantly, I am trying to remember that I can't expect to see changes overnight - even though I want to.
Seriously, am I asking for too much, here?
For Pete's sake... I feel "the burn". Everyone in the class feels "the burn".
After all, we have just spent the last 4 weeks OUTDOORS in ARIZONA from 6:59 PM (because there's extra torture - namely, Mountain Climbers - for those who fall victim to afternoon rush hour traffic and arrive 1 second past 7PM) to 8:30 PM.
We Lunge and Squat on concrete that has absorbed the sun's rays all day long only to radiate that ungodly heat back at us from below. If The Wall isn't melting the rubber soles off our sneakers, it's burning the top layer of skin off our hands during those evil Raised Wall Push-Ups. And the metallic park benches (yeah, I wanna know who's genius idea those were) sizzle whatever skin is left on those same scorched palms with each and every Dip.
Let me be perfectly clear (especially for those of you who have moved away from the Valley of the Sun and conveniently "forgotten" what it's like to have FORD branded on your thigh by your seat belt): If we were "nuts", the evening Boot Camp session would classify as the "oven-roasted" variety.
We are exercising, no scratch that... We are strenuously exercising in temperatures that puts Bikram Yoga to shame. And, as we hear it told in the evenings, the morning Boot Campers have whined about 78 degrees.
WHINED ABOUT 78 DEGREES?!?
How could you possibly whine about 78 degrees? What? Are you COLD or something?
And, don't even try to tell me that you ladies have it sooo much harder because it's early...
You're talking to the Queen of Early Rising! Last year I was up at 3:30 AM and jumping into an icy pool to swim laps at 4AM for 2 hours every morning. (And yes, many friends questioned my sanity.)
Admittedly, this year, I've taken it easy on myself and I am now getting up with the Hubby's alarm clock. But his alarm goes off at 4:30 AM and I'm in the pool for laps by 5 AM - in addition to Boot Camp. (And yes, my friends are questioning my sanity again thanks to Boot Camp.)
As I hear it, I think the only real complaint that the morning Boot Campers could possibly have has something to do with Stadium Steps, and for anything regarding "stairs" you have my empathy.
So, I realized this morning that Monday, June 25th, marked the 3rd Anniversary of "The New Me".
Three years ago, I left dinner with the BandGirl and her mom and I signed a 2-year gym contract, making a lasting (and expensive) commitment to improve my health (before pregnancy).
The first thing I did was jump into a water aerobics class. I quickly realized that I was horribly out of shape when "The Water Ladies" (a group of senior citizens who were in the 6AM Aqua Aerobics class 5 days a week) danced circles around me while chatting and I was breathless and struggled to last the full 55 minutes of the class.
One month later, I was heading to the gym 5-days a week on my way to work and working with a personal trainer who helped me re-program my brain to believe that fitness was more "fun" and less "chore". Within 6 months, I was a full-fledged gym-junkie (6-7 days a week!), annoyed and irritable if I didn't get my daily dose of endorphins.
When the gym closed down, I bounced around until I found my new home-away-from-home at LA Fitness. That's when I discovered a REAL lap pool (and how exhausting it is to swim it!). After just two months of laps, I swam my first full mile freestyle and one year ago (on the 4th of July weekend) I swam 3 miles in about 2.5 hours. I had the time, and I simply wanted to see "how far I could go". Honestly, I only stopped because I figured I was so pruned that my fingertips wouldn't un-pucker for about a week (and people were lining up to use the lanes).
So now I'm here... 3 years later and 50 pounds less.
I am graduating my first Boot Camp Session tomorrow.
More importantly, I am already signed up for the next one.
And MOST importantly, I am trying to remember that I can't expect to see changes overnight - even though I want to.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
4 Letter Words & Other "EVIL" Boot Camp Vocabulary
My week began with a 4-letter word: LEAK.
On Monday morning, the source of the mysterious "puddle" in my garage was identified when a cascade of water poured down from my attic through the vent and sky light in my laundry room, causing a flood and making think I'd somehow missed a message from God to build an Ark.
Apparently, a hose had come loose from the drain pipe, and thanks to our neighbor (who unlike Tool Time's Wilson DOES show his face on the other other side of the fence) the problem was fixed with DUCT TAPE.
And, sadly, somewhere in the crisis, my CELL phone drowned. But I didn't discover this until Tuesday morning...
So Monday night, Day 7 was what the Boot Camp Guru titled "FOUR MINS. FROM HELL". It was obvious I was in trouble at that moment.
Tuesday night, which I'd call "ABS-olutely Fabulous" was even worse. Instead of 4 minutes per exercise like Monday night, it was our circuit training day and every other exercise was ab-related. I honestly couldn't stand up straight until dinner.
Wednesday night, GadgetGirl came to my rescue. GadgetGirl (who can never resist the latest in technological advances - hence, the Roomba that scoots around their floors each day!) just "happened" to have an "extra" Blackberry lying around that I could borrow. So I trekked to her house and forfeited the opportunity to blog about Days 7 & 8...
Thursday night was the "Obstacle Course". The source of my trouble with the event can be summed in two more 4-letter words: JUMP ROPE. (Have no fear Blue Team, I'm practicing at home from now on!)
And, Friday night, Hubby and I celebrated a belated Father's Day with our parents, so blogging was banned for both of us last night.
So here it is, 4:45 AM Saturday morning, and yes I really am awake. I'm about to go do my neighborhood laps, complete with DIPS, LUNGES, SQUATS, and BACKWARDS WALKING before we drive 7 hours (one way) to have dinner with our friends, SuperChargers' Fans #1 & #2.
But, at least my crazy week will end with a couple of fun 4-letter words: ROAD TRIP!
On Monday morning, the source of the mysterious "puddle" in my garage was identified when a cascade of water poured down from my attic through the vent and sky light in my laundry room, causing a flood and making think I'd somehow missed a message from God to build an Ark.
Apparently, a hose had come loose from the drain pipe, and thanks to our neighbor (who unlike Tool Time's Wilson DOES show his face on the other other side of the fence) the problem was fixed with DUCT TAPE.
And, sadly, somewhere in the crisis, my CELL phone drowned. But I didn't discover this until Tuesday morning...
So Monday night, Day 7 was what the Boot Camp Guru titled "FOUR MINS. FROM HELL". It was obvious I was in trouble at that moment.
Tuesday night, which I'd call "ABS-olutely Fabulous" was even worse. Instead of 4 minutes per exercise like Monday night, it was our circuit training day and every other exercise was ab-related. I honestly couldn't stand up straight until dinner.
Wednesday night, GadgetGirl came to my rescue. GadgetGirl (who can never resist the latest in technological advances - hence, the Roomba that scoots around their floors each day!) just "happened" to have an "extra" Blackberry lying around that I could borrow. So I trekked to her house and forfeited the opportunity to blog about Days 7 & 8...
Thursday night was the "Obstacle Course". The source of my trouble with the event can be summed in two more 4-letter words: JUMP ROPE. (Have no fear Blue Team, I'm practicing at home from now on!)
And, Friday night, Hubby and I celebrated a belated Father's Day with our parents, so blogging was banned for both of us last night.
So here it is, 4:45 AM Saturday morning, and yes I really am awake. I'm about to go do my neighborhood laps, complete with DIPS, LUNGES, SQUATS, and BACKWARDS WALKING before we drive 7 hours (one way) to have dinner with our friends, SuperChargers' Fans #1 & #2.
But, at least my crazy week will end with a couple of fun 4-letter words: ROAD TRIP!
Friday, June 15, 2007
My Hero
Here's a little SAT-style insight on the relationship that has developed between me and SuperCuz...
The best description I can offer is this: SuperCuz is to me, as Batman is to Robin.
That's right. In the GRAND scheme of things (well, at least in my little blog-world today), SuperCuz is a mega crime-fighting character, I am her sidekick, and Fitness Boot Camp is the ultimate Super Hero Training Program.
Unfortunately, ALL mega crime-fighting Super Heroes have some form of "weakness" that makes them appear more "human". (As if saving you mere mortals from general villainy wasn't enough to make you revere us already...)
Last night, Day 6 of Boot Camp, uhhh...I mean, Super Hero Training, we discovered that SuperCuz is no exception to this rule.
Admittedly, I was disheartened to learn that while Superman has only ONE real "tool" for destruction (Kryptonite), SuperCuz has THREE (Las Vegas, junk food and turbulence).
On Wednesday morning, SuperCuz flew to Vegas for work (in a plane because flying is NOT her Super Power). She spent 24 hours in Sin City with her boss, ate a ton of unhealthy food, and flew back the next day through Arizona's summer air currents. By the time she arrived at Boot Camp last night, it was evident that she lacked her usual "pep".
Fortunately for me (because, as you'll soon learn, it is always "all about me"), Day 6 was "Partner Day" which meant that her weakened Super Hero state was much closer aligned to my sidekick level.
That said, the Super Hero Training Program last night was no less challenging than any other day. The Boot Camp Guru had some seriously evil tricks up her sleeve...
After a warm-up lap around the park, we were placed in pairs. SuperCuz and I were assigned to work together. That only makes sense...after all, who in their right mind splits up Barnes and Noble? Bert and Ernie? Ben and Jerry?
I thought we were working well (enough) together. We managed 20 push-ups; 10 regular and 10 clapping each other's hands in between each push-up. And also, as I feared initially, we had to do "real" sit-ups where the other person counts (but because I have managed to keep her "true" identity concealed on this blog, she never "accidentally" lost track of the number during my Minute of Pain).
The trouble really begin when we were told to do this EVIL form of shoulder exercise where her arms are my resistance and vice versa. In hind sight, I should have seen the warning sign during that form of torture. She had regained some of her energy.
By the time we were mid-way through the session, her strength had almost fully returned. She certainly had recuperated enough strength to toss my butt to the ground. Literally. One minute I was standing. The next, I was not. Of course, she had an extreme advantage as it was her turn to hold one my legs in the air while I barely balanced on the other. But honestly, the embarrassment of falling on my butt (and writing about it later) is nothing compared to the embarrassment I have of losing our final challenge - "Butt Tag".
This "game" is where she unleashed her Super Power for the first time. SuperCuz has super-fast and super-long ARMS. Think: Elastigirl! I have never seen anything like it in real life!
(Well, OK. Maybe except for that one time when I went out with a guy who became an octopus about 10 minutes after he picked me up for our date.)
But, seriously, there was no OFFENSE on my end. Just DEFENSE. And not even a whole lot of THAT!
All I know is that I clearly need a lot more Super Hero Training.
So unless SuperCuz discovers my weakness (champagne!), I will be at the gym tomorrow morning for a mega crime-fighter's workout and maybe by the next "Partner Day" I'll be ready to challenge her again.
The best description I can offer is this: SuperCuz is to me, as Batman is to Robin.
That's right. In the GRAND scheme of things (well, at least in my little blog-world today), SuperCuz is a mega crime-fighting character, I am her sidekick, and Fitness Boot Camp is the ultimate Super Hero Training Program.
Unfortunately, ALL mega crime-fighting Super Heroes have some form of "weakness" that makes them appear more "human". (As if saving you mere mortals from general villainy wasn't enough to make you revere us already...)
Last night, Day 6 of Boot Camp, uhhh...I mean, Super Hero Training, we discovered that SuperCuz is no exception to this rule.
Admittedly, I was disheartened to learn that while Superman has only ONE real "tool" for destruction (Kryptonite), SuperCuz has THREE (Las Vegas, junk food and turbulence).
On Wednesday morning, SuperCuz flew to Vegas for work (in a plane because flying is NOT her Super Power). She spent 24 hours in Sin City with her boss, ate a ton of unhealthy food, and flew back the next day through Arizona's summer air currents. By the time she arrived at Boot Camp last night, it was evident that she lacked her usual "pep".
Fortunately for me (because, as you'll soon learn, it is always "all about me"), Day 6 was "Partner Day" which meant that her weakened Super Hero state was much closer aligned to my sidekick level.
That said, the Super Hero Training Program last night was no less challenging than any other day. The Boot Camp Guru had some seriously evil tricks up her sleeve...
After a warm-up lap around the park, we were placed in pairs. SuperCuz and I were assigned to work together. That only makes sense...after all, who in their right mind splits up Barnes and Noble? Bert and Ernie? Ben and Jerry?
I thought we were working well (enough) together. We managed 20 push-ups; 10 regular and 10 clapping each other's hands in between each push-up. And also, as I feared initially, we had to do "real" sit-ups where the other person counts (but because I have managed to keep her "true" identity concealed on this blog, she never "accidentally" lost track of the number during my Minute of Pain).
The trouble really begin when we were told to do this EVIL form of shoulder exercise where her arms are my resistance and vice versa. In hind sight, I should have seen the warning sign during that form of torture. She had regained some of her energy.
By the time we were mid-way through the session, her strength had almost fully returned. She certainly had recuperated enough strength to toss my butt to the ground. Literally. One minute I was standing. The next, I was not. Of course, she had an extreme advantage as it was her turn to hold one my legs in the air while I barely balanced on the other. But honestly, the embarrassment of falling on my butt (and writing about it later) is nothing compared to the embarrassment I have of losing our final challenge - "Butt Tag".
This "game" is where she unleashed her Super Power for the first time. SuperCuz has super-fast and super-long ARMS. Think: Elastigirl! I have never seen anything like it in real life!
(Well, OK. Maybe except for that one time when I went out with a guy who became an octopus about 10 minutes after he picked me up for our date.)
But, seriously, there was no OFFENSE on my end. Just DEFENSE. And not even a whole lot of THAT!
All I know is that I clearly need a lot more Super Hero Training.
So unless SuperCuz discovers my weakness (champagne!), I will be at the gym tomorrow morning for a mega crime-fighter's workout and maybe by the next "Partner Day" I'll be ready to challenge her again.
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
What Goes Around, Comes Around
A few days ago, the MonkeyWhisperer (one of my best friends from High School) called and I instinctively knew better than to whine to her about my first week of Boot Camp. In fact, she is the last person that I would complain to, for this simple reason: what goes around, comes around.
Don't get the wrong impression here... The MonkeyWhisperer oozes with compassion for my aches and pains AND she would offer very genuine words of encouragement, but in the end, what I really fear is that MY words will come back to haunt ME.
You see, this past year, the MonkeyWhisperer flew off to track wild monkeys in a forest in Kenya. I'm not kidding. Approximately one month into her adventure, the HeadShrinker (the 3rd leg in our virtual tripod of High School friendship) and I got an email from the MonkeyWhisperer asking for our input. The debate was whether she should come home after three months or six. My advice to her was short and sweet. My email reply read, "Suck it up. Stick it out and finish what you started."
The HeadShrinker's response was basically the same as mine - she just used a much better vocabulary when she said it. (After all, she is barely a few months away from legally charging the MonkeyWhisperer and I big bucks for our long-distance couch sessions regarding men and careers - hey, can we get a "group therapy" discount if we three-way our phone calls from now on?). In fact, if I remember correctly, I think she even copy-and-pasted parts of my email to incorporate into her own $.02 reply.
I'll admit that each day of Boot Camp last week I reached out for support from at least one of my friends. I needed an emotional boost. A verbal hug. A gentle kick in my already-aching-backside to motivate me back to the next Boot Camp session. (Especially since every evil glare I shot at SuperCuz during "burpies" or "dips" or some other form of primitive torture only extracted another breathless "You'll thank me for this later".)
Driving home from Day 1 of Boot Camp, I called the BandGirl seeking a shoulder on which to cry. Instead, the groggy voice on the other end of the phone said, "Better YOU than ME". Once my initial shock wore off, I realized that I really can't complain because the BandGirl comments -without prompting- that I am smaller and smaller every time we get together, and it is always when I need the motivation most.
The next day, five minutes before the session on Day 2 started, the HeadShrinker caught up with me after a week-long game of phone tag. In our brief conversation, she offered the psychological words of encouragement I wanted to hear. Of course, those treasured words were laced with a hint of evil laughter and an unspoken undertone of "better you than me" which she disguised brilliantly in the phrase, "I could never do what you're doing".
Damn. The price of therapy for my irrational fear of step ladders (thanks to The Wall) probably just went up.
After my horrifying introduction to The Wall on Day 3, I called WallStreet - who is determined to find his future fortune among the Penny Stocks...and never work in a cubicle farm again. Aside from the Roomie, WallStreet is the only other person I still see regularly from college. (SuperCuz and I are crashing WallStreet's bachelor pad in San Diego in a few weeks as our reward for Outwitting, Outplaying and Outlasting our fellow Boot Camp "Survivors".) To my surprise, WallStreet laughed OUT LOUD for the length of my entire drive home. From the moment I hit the freeway to the minute I parked, there was a constant stream of cackling on his end of the conversation - and silence on mine.
That's approximately when I gave up and decided to turn the phone off after Boot Camp. From now on, I plan to retreat home after each session to lick my wounds and return for the next class with my own rejuvenated spirit and motivation.
Besides, I'm tough! I can handle anything the Boot Camp Guru dishes! I survived Days 4 and 5, and honestly the worst ache I walked away with was cramps. (Then again, maybe I only survived the trauma of "Lunge Day" and "the Card Game" because I was heavily medicated. Motrin had been piped into my bloodstream for days.)
I am not at all eager to face The Wall on Thursday. I'm hoping my knees and hips don't hate me at the end of Day 6.
But, I'm not afraid of throwing in the towel...I'm sure the MonkeyWhisperer's voice will be in the back of my mind any time I want to quit telling me to "Suck it up. Stick it out and finish what you started."
Don't get the wrong impression here... The MonkeyWhisperer oozes with compassion for my aches and pains AND she would offer very genuine words of encouragement, but in the end, what I really fear is that MY words will come back to haunt ME.
You see, this past year, the MonkeyWhisperer flew off to track wild monkeys in a forest in Kenya. I'm not kidding. Approximately one month into her adventure, the HeadShrinker (the 3rd leg in our virtual tripod of High School friendship) and I got an email from the MonkeyWhisperer asking for our input. The debate was whether she should come home after three months or six. My advice to her was short and sweet. My email reply read, "Suck it up. Stick it out and finish what you started."
The HeadShrinker's response was basically the same as mine - she just used a much better vocabulary when she said it. (After all, she is barely a few months away from legally charging the MonkeyWhisperer and I big bucks for our long-distance couch sessions regarding men and careers - hey, can we get a "group therapy" discount if we three-way our phone calls from now on?). In fact, if I remember correctly, I think she even copy-and-pasted parts of my email to incorporate into her own $.02 reply.
I'll admit that each day of Boot Camp last week I reached out for support from at least one of my friends. I needed an emotional boost. A verbal hug. A gentle kick in my already-aching-backside to motivate me back to the next Boot Camp session. (Especially since every evil glare I shot at SuperCuz during "burpies" or "dips" or some other form of primitive torture only extracted another breathless "You'll thank me for this later".)
Driving home from Day 1 of Boot Camp, I called the BandGirl seeking a shoulder on which to cry. Instead, the groggy voice on the other end of the phone said, "Better YOU than ME". Once my initial shock wore off, I realized that I really can't complain because the BandGirl comments -without prompting- that I am smaller and smaller every time we get together, and it is always when I need the motivation most.
The next day, five minutes before the session on Day 2 started, the HeadShrinker caught up with me after a week-long game of phone tag. In our brief conversation, she offered the psychological words of encouragement I wanted to hear. Of course, those treasured words were laced with a hint of evil laughter and an unspoken undertone of "better you than me" which she disguised brilliantly in the phrase, "I could never do what you're doing".
Damn. The price of therapy for my irrational fear of step ladders (thanks to The Wall) probably just went up.
After my horrifying introduction to The Wall on Day 3, I called WallStreet - who is determined to find his future fortune among the Penny Stocks...and never work in a cubicle farm again. Aside from the Roomie, WallStreet is the only other person I still see regularly from college. (SuperCuz and I are crashing WallStreet's bachelor pad in San Diego in a few weeks as our reward for Outwitting, Outplaying and Outlasting our fellow Boot Camp "Survivors".) To my surprise, WallStreet laughed OUT LOUD for the length of my entire drive home. From the moment I hit the freeway to the minute I parked, there was a constant stream of cackling on his end of the conversation - and silence on mine.
That's approximately when I gave up and decided to turn the phone off after Boot Camp. From now on, I plan to retreat home after each session to lick my wounds and return for the next class with my own rejuvenated spirit and motivation.
Besides, I'm tough! I can handle anything the Boot Camp Guru dishes! I survived Days 4 and 5, and honestly the worst ache I walked away with was cramps. (Then again, maybe I only survived the trauma of "Lunge Day" and "the Card Game" because I was heavily medicated. Motrin had been piped into my bloodstream for days.)
I am not at all eager to face The Wall on Thursday. I'm hoping my knees and hips don't hate me at the end of Day 6.
But, I'm not afraid of throwing in the towel...I'm sure the MonkeyWhisperer's voice will be in the back of my mind any time I want to quit telling me to "Suck it up. Stick it out and finish what you started."
Saturday, June 9, 2007
The Alphabet Spells P-A-I-N
I've got GOOD news and I've got BAD news.
The GOOD news is that "pit pain" does not - I repeat, DOES NOT - appear to be a lasting or permanent side-effect of Boot Camp. Just a recurring one.
The BAD news, however, is that when the "pit pain" subsides, something else will hurt. Probably worse.
I know this to be true because I am writing this two days after Day 3 of Boot Camp, and as of today I am now entirely more appreciative of:
The GOOD news is that "pit pain" does not - I repeat, DOES NOT - appear to be a lasting or permanent side-effect of Boot Camp. Just a recurring one.
The BAD news, however, is that when the "pit pain" subsides, something else will hurt. Probably worse.
I know this to be true because I am writing this two days after Day 3 of Boot Camp, and as of today I am now entirely more appreciative of:
- a stairwell with handrails,
- handicap bathrooms with stabilizing bars,
- vehicles with step-runners and "Oh Shit!" handles,
- ANY chair with arms, and
- whenever available: RAMPS.
Why is this?
Because on Thursday night, the Boot Camp Guru formally introduced us to The Wall.
The Wall spans 8-inches or more in height and several feet in length. It does not: 1) have fangs, 2) attack small children or animals, or 3) scare husbands into turning off ESPN and finishing their "Honey Do" lists.
However, after my experience with The Wall on Thursday night, I now have an irrational phobia of step ladders I need to overcome AND despise all curbs and the sunken shower in our Master Bath, where as Thursday morning I wouldn't have given either of those a second thought.
I have decided to approach The Wall as my own personal "Yoda". Like the tiny, green Jedi Master, I see great things in its future. I think I can convince myself to appreciate The Wall over the next 12 weeks. Especially since The Wall has the potential to become a strong ally in my personal war on jiggly thighs...that is, assuming my hips and knees don't retreat from the battles ahead.
What I REFUSE to willingly embrace is the ab-killer known as The Alphabet.
It's endless. It's excruciating. It's 100% pure EVIL. It's almost too painful to discuss...
We must have spent 5 full minutes lying there in agony as the Boot Camp Guru called out each letter of the alphabet, S-L-O-W-L-Y, for us to trace in the air with our legs.
No rest.
No cheating.
No one allowed to move on to the next letter until everyone was ready.
It was horrifyingly horrible and afterwards, I was spent. The Alphabet drained my body and my spirit of any fight I had left in me. Thankfully, it was the end of the session.
The next night, SuperCuz and I joined the Hubby and our buddy, the SportsGeek, at the bar for a beer. They casually asked about our first week of Boot Camp, and we discussed the challenges we faced in each class and the aches and pains associated with each one.
We talked about the 40 push-ups "to start". We talked about the "burpies" and worse: "burpies" WITH a push-up! We talked about various components of the circuit training day and The Wall as though it had personality.
But when SuperCuz simply said, "The Alphabet", she and I both paused as a silent memory of misery flashed through our minds and took a drink.
Thursday, June 7, 2007
The FULL-Body Work Out
Great. Now my head hurts.
The Boot Camp Guru is literally working every muscle I've got...including my brain.
Apparently, in addition to the "awesome" physical training we embrace at Fitness Boot Camp, the Boot Camp Guru dishes out cerebral calisthenics as well. These exercises are assigned with the intent to strengthen our self-confidence and tone our self-esteem.
In some ways, this type of exercise is FAR more strenuous and painful than the 450 crunches we did in Day 2's "circuit training" session. (But since I do see the value in both workout styles AND I fear the consequences for lack of participation, I assure you, I have done this week's assignment.)
Monday night we were given the Brain Breaker for Week One:
Create 25 Self-Affirmations.
My first thought was: "Holy crap! Is this woman serious? How can I come up with 25 - TWENTY-FIVE - affirmations before Thursday?"
My second thought was: "What happens if I can't come up with 25 affirmations?"
My third and fourth thoughts were simultaneous: "We can't say can't" and "I don't even want to think about the physical consequences for falling short of the 25 affirmations assigned. Not even by ONE."
I spent the greater part of Tuesday and Wednesday trying to ease the aches and pains in my body, and as I stretched and relaxed a few affirmations popped into my head. I had about 8 affirmations in total, but I figured that if this assignment is due tonight, I had better get serious. As far as I'm concerned, my "pit pain" is just starting to dissipate, so there is no way in Hell that I will get stuck doing whatever torture is designed for the poor souls who didn't take the time to do enough soul-searching to come up with their 25.
So here goes:
1. I am not in competition with anyone but myself.
2. I am grateful for the ability to change.
3. I am stronger and healthier today than the day I began this journey.
4. I am improving my health for myself.
5. I am improving my health for my (future) family.
6. I am willing to work hard.
7. I am willing to change.
8. I am worthy of change.
9. I am motivated to change.
10. I have encouragement from my family and friends every day.
11. Today, I am one day closer to my goal.
12. I accept that change doesn't happen overnight.
13. I will be patient with myself.
14. I will forgive myself when I stumble.
15. I will be proud of myself every day.
16. Today, I choose to be healthy.
17. Today, I choose to be positive.
18. Today, I choose to be active.
19. I am playful.
20. I am energetic.
21. I am creative.
22. I am an inspiration to others.
23. I am just as important as everyone else.
24. I am my own idol. (An inside joke from college that the BandGirl will get!)
and my favorite...
25. I am a work in progress.
The Boot Camp Guru is literally working every muscle I've got...including my brain.
Apparently, in addition to the "awesome" physical training we embrace at Fitness Boot Camp, the Boot Camp Guru dishes out cerebral calisthenics as well. These exercises are assigned with the intent to strengthen our self-confidence and tone our self-esteem.
In some ways, this type of exercise is FAR more strenuous and painful than the 450 crunches we did in Day 2's "circuit training" session. (But since I do see the value in both workout styles AND I fear the consequences for lack of participation, I assure you, I have done this week's assignment.)
Monday night we were given the Brain Breaker for Week One:
Create 25 Self-Affirmations.
My first thought was: "Holy crap! Is this woman serious? How can I come up with 25 - TWENTY-FIVE - affirmations before Thursday?"
My second thought was: "What happens if I can't come up with 25 affirmations?"
My third and fourth thoughts were simultaneous: "We can't say can't" and "I don't even want to think about the physical consequences for falling short of the 25 affirmations assigned. Not even by ONE."
I spent the greater part of Tuesday and Wednesday trying to ease the aches and pains in my body, and as I stretched and relaxed a few affirmations popped into my head. I had about 8 affirmations in total, but I figured that if this assignment is due tonight, I had better get serious. As far as I'm concerned, my "pit pain" is just starting to dissipate, so there is no way in Hell that I will get stuck doing whatever torture is designed for the poor souls who didn't take the time to do enough soul-searching to come up with their 25.
So here goes:
1. I am not in competition with anyone but myself.
2. I am grateful for the ability to change.
3. I am stronger and healthier today than the day I began this journey.
4. I am improving my health for myself.
5. I am improving my health for my (future) family.
6. I am willing to work hard.
7. I am willing to change.
8. I am worthy of change.
9. I am motivated to change.
10. I have encouragement from my family and friends every day.
11. Today, I am one day closer to my goal.
12. I accept that change doesn't happen overnight.
13. I will be patient with myself.
14. I will forgive myself when I stumble.
15. I will be proud of myself every day.
16. Today, I choose to be healthy.
17. Today, I choose to be positive.
18. Today, I choose to be active.
19. I am playful.
20. I am energetic.
21. I am creative.
22. I am an inspiration to others.
23. I am just as important as everyone else.
24. I am my own idol. (An inside joke from college that the BandGirl will get!)
and my favorite...
25. I am a work in progress.
Wednesday, June 6, 2007
The "Pits" of Despair
I hurt.
Not just a little, but a whole lot. (And the pain is now spreading at a relatively rapid rate.)
Let me explain:
Day 1 was tough, but SuperCuz and I gave it every ounce of effort we had. When the Boot Camp Guru said lunge, we lunged. When she said squat, we squatted. With each quarter-mile lap around the park, we eagerly returned to our towels for (water first, and then) more abuse.
We did ALL 50 of the 50 "dips" we were told to do off the park bench and we counted ALL 40 of the 40 push-ups assigned (because apparently we START with 40 push-ups). We did everything we were told and we smiled when we did it (for the most part). And, in retrospect, maybe I should have saved some of that enthusiasm for Day 2...
I honestly thought I had escaped this "adventure" without a heap of agony, but I see now that I was wrong.
Really, really wrong.
You see, when I woke up yesterday, the only area on my body that ached was my butt. (Clearly I needed more time on the ice packs.) When asked, I told everyone that I was "fine" and that "nothing hurts but my butt!" I even got out of bed with my regular alarm (4:30 AM) and swam a 1/2 mile at the gym before heading off to work. I felt great...until noon.
Somewhere around lunch I suddenly realized that I have arm pits - and although I am no expert, I am pretty sure that arm pits are not supposed to hurt.
So, with an aching butt and intense "pit pain," I popped Motrin like jelly beans and braced myself for Day 2, but in reality, nothing could have prepared me for last night.
As promised, each night of Boot Camp appears to be different. Day 2 was "circuit training," which by the Guru's definition is: "Seven different exercises, doing each exercise for one full minute, and then a two-minute break." And repeat. 3 more times.
We laughed. We cried. We bribed AND begged to end the madness before each minute was up. But nothing worked. The Boot Camp Guru held her ground - and her stop watch - and smiled at us while we did 4 full "circuits." Even Hubby's monkey math will calculate that we did 28 different exercises in 28 minutes and about 1/3 of them were abs.
The session started off OK, but when she told us to do push-ups, I just stared at SuperCuz in disbelief. Was this woman serious? My pits were still in recovery from Day 1's "let's start with 40" crap, let alone adding to the pain with a set of push-ups in 3 different arm positions! And "burpies" and squats for one whole minute... my butt!
The bottom line, pardon the pun, is that if a muscle didn't hurt BEFORE Day 2, it certainly did AFTER.
So here I am, a 2-Day Fitness Boot Camp Survivor with the night off before going back for Day 3. Thanks to last night's workout, my Motrin bottle is empty, my "pit pain" is worse and my abs ache with each breath. And the full minute of squats really pushed me over the edge. I have been faced with Hamlet's famous question, "to pee, or not to pee," all damn day!
I have tried to come up with something "positive" about not being able to lift my arms higher than the steering wheel, (you know, in case the "pit pain" is a permanent side effect of Fitness Boot Camp) and I think I've finally done it: If I can't lift my arms, at least I'll save money on deodorant.
Tuesday, June 5, 2007
Ice, Ice Baby
A few weeks ago, I attended the last bridal shower in (what I now affectionately call the 6 weddings that dominated my social calendar between President's Day and Memorial Weekend) the "2007 Marital Bliss Marathon."
So at this shower, I was seated at the kitchen counter snacking on my plate of tasteless veggies, miserably avoiding direct eye-contact with the 3 - yes, THREE! - plates of See's Candies, and chatting with my newest cousin-to-be, but since she's got the rock I'll skip the "2B" formalities.
In our conversation, we discovered that we have some things in common:
1. A clothing-driven motivation for improving our overall health and fitness - of course, her focus is on all things "bridal" while mine is on all things "baby",
2. A day planner which blatantly reveals our secret love affair with [the] 'Gym', (apologies to Hubby and Future-Hubby!)
3. A membership to LA Fitness, which means that we can hang out weeknights and sweat next to someone we know and love on the "Dreadmill", and, most importantly,
4. A little sense of adventure when it comes to fitness.
It didn't take long for her to figure out that when I am (slightly) apprehensive about trying something new, she can pretty much coax me INTO and THROUGH just about anything... (i.e.: my two attempts at jogging last week AND last Thursday's Zumba class - an aerobic Latin dance class - and to be perfectly clear... I LACK ANY ZUMBA TALENT.)
It didn't take long for her to figure out that when I am (slightly) apprehensive about trying something new, she can pretty much coax me INTO and THROUGH just about anything... (i.e.: my two attempts at jogging last week AND last Thursday's Zumba class - an aerobic Latin dance class - and to be perfectly clear... I LACK ANY ZUMBA TALENT.)
Within our first week of gmail conversations, our sense of adventure got the better of us and we signed up for a Ladies' Fitness Boot Camp program. SuperCuz* and I are determined to withstand a full 12 weeks of sheer butt-kicking workouts - and yes, that is meant in the most literal form. (At this point, my only hope for escape is pregnancy...)
This group meets 3 times a week. Outside. 90 minutes. In the sweltering heat of June, July and August right here in the Arizona desert. In the dark. Where no one will hear us cry out in pain, "This feels AWESOME!" until we just can't do one more fire-hydrant leg lift without the biggest muscle in our body cramping right then and there.
We can't cuss. We can't say "can't". No matter how much it hurts. All we can say to the reigning Boot Camp Guru is that she's "awesome" - but she didn't say we had to smile when we say it.
We can't cuss. We can't say "can't". No matter how much it hurts. All we can say to the reigning Boot Camp Guru is that she's "awesome" - but she didn't say we had to smile when we say it.
So, we survived our first session last night, and although we have lived to tell about it, first I desperately need a shower, and several Motrin, and a lot more water, and a really good stretch and a whole bunch of ice packs for my butt. And since SuperCuz and I go back tomorrow for more "adventure", I think I need a little rest now, too.
Feel free to check in for more Boot Camp Body updates, because I'll be sure to post how "AWESOME" SuperCuz and I look and feel throughout this little adventure. And yes, I'll probably be typing from a frosty perch of ice packs.
Erica
*This name has been changed to protect the innocent (and because I fear that someday she will be counting my push-ups and might "accidentally" lose count if I reveal her true identity at this point in time).
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