I Will Never Be In the Army

Not that I had grandiose plans to do so, anyway. But now it’s official, I am not cut out for boot camp. Today I took my first boot camp fitness class at the gym. So, like we do push ups? And sit ups? Squat thrusts? No problem, I thought. And the class started at noon. Hey, that’s my kind of class!

The class was mostly made up of women, but there were a couple men too, some of them twice my age. Ok, this can’t be too bad, I thought.

The instructor was a beefy meat head type of guy. He was dressed in Green Bay Packer shorts and shirt, and told the class that he had just had an interview to be a trainer for the team.

“Obviously they didn’t want me because I’m still here,” he said.

There really was no warm up or cool down. The army doesn’t need any namby pamby warm ups and cool downs! We jumped right into it. Jumped being the operative word.

I have done plyometrics before, but this was pretty intense. We were jumping onto a step and he made us put four risers under the step. I’m short! The step was tall! My legs screamed for mercy.

After about 20 minutes of jumping and thrusting and lunging, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror.

“Why are my lips white?” I thought. “And why does the room seem so dark all of a sudden? And why can’t I catch my breath? And why do I keep yawning?”

For me, these are all tell tale signs that I’m about to faint.

Seriously? I’m going to friggen FAINT in a boot camp work out class at Bally’s for christ sake? I’ve done three triathlons! I’ve done a half marathon! I run all the time! I’ve given birth! Seriously?

I wimped out a little bit around that time, obviously. I shortened my sets and contemplated running to the bathroom. My pride kept me from doing that. If the 65 year old man next to me can keep up, why the hell can’t I? I think of myself as a person who’s in pretty good shape.

However, apparently running on my treadmill in the basement before work every day is an ok workout, but it is not boot camp. I foolishly thought I would be fine at boot camp.

Soon we did some floor work (oh, my abs, how I’ve missed you since before I was a mom!), and I started to feel better. I’m happy to report that I finished the class without losing consciousness. I was even called a rock star for having my step on four risers.

Will I take this class again? All signs point to yes. But tomorrow morning, chances are good I won’t be able to lift my arms.


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