Boot to the Head Camp

I know I haven’t written all week. It’s already Thursday. I can’t believe this week is almost over! To be honest, I have been in a writing slump this week. There was a killer workout day on Monday, and then- I hit a writing wall. I didn’t feel like anything I had to say would be worth hearing. Plus my arms were extremely sore and I just wasn’t up to weaving ya’ll a good story.  I appreciate your understand.

But all has been going decent, diet wise, around here. Although I have learned that chili and diets don’t mix for oh so many reasons, and have experienced a slight increase in weight with the chili calories and the fact I have been increasing my exercise substantially. And that’s what you are going to hear about today. So, without further adieu, let’s move into our story…

My buddy Alyson triple dog dared me to come.

Boot Camp. The class at the YMCA with this description: Boot Camp is the ultimate circuit workout combining intervals of cardio and muscle conditioning drills.

I should have known then…

But, having been triple dog dared, I was powerless to resist the class.

So at 8:45am my rear was happily waiting for the class to begin. Not realizing what treasures of fitness awaited me. I had on my new medium sized capris, perfect for working out, and 2 tanks- one to hold the girls up, and one to hide the fat rolls the other tank caused while holding the girls up. And of course, my wonderful Asics shoes with the skull laces. Cause I’m rock and roll at heart. Oh, and after yesterday at the trail, I remembered to wear a pad for working out. This will not be a Charlie is peeing her pants story.

The instructor, Abby, explained quickly that we were going to do 3 circuits. I had no idea what a “circuit” really was. I only know what Jillian Michaels considers a circuit on the 30 day shred DVD. Apparently they are one in the same.

 Abby led right into circuit number 1. At first I was doing really well! I was jogging and jumping and keeping up with the class. The class, I might add, of tall skinny girls who looked like they run marathons. Fit and fabulous in every way. Seeing as I was the biggest girl in the class, I felt was my duty to represent. In all honesty, that desire was probably what got me through to the end of the class. Which was probably going to be pretty soon.

But when I looked at the clock only 10 minutes had passed.

CRAP.

Circuit 1 turned into circuit 2 and 3 and 4 and 5- to be honest, I lost track. After we got to 4, I stopped caring. All I did was pray to my sweet baby Jesus that this class would end soon. Or we would do ab workouts on the floor. You know it’s bad when I’m praying for sit-ups.

But there were so many new (fresh levels of hell) experiences for me to enjoy in this class. And all of it while maintaining a “this fatty isn’t going to let people see her struggling” look of determination on my face. Which happened to be beet red and dripping with sweat. The circuits consisted of a grouping of 8 semi-impossible exercises, rinse and repeat. The whole goal is to hit the cardio really hard, and keep it up there.

We got to the section of jumping jacks. I did the first round full on kicking. Which made me realize that I am not a jumping jack kind of girl. I am dealing with the triple B factor- boobs, belly and bladder. All 3 Bs, in tandem, work against me. My boobs throw off my center of gravity and make me smack myself in the face. My belly is extremely not tone, therefore it acts much like Santa’s bowl full of jelly belly. It goes up and down and pushes against the bladder. So when we repeated the jacks, I had to do lazy jacks. Keeping one foot on the ground at all times with no hopping.

Also in the circuits, there were sections of jogging- high knee jogging, double time jogging, if there was a way to manipulate a jog, Abby found it. Which is good for the rest of the class. For me? Notsomuch. Think of me like a basset hound trying to keep up with a group of bounding Jack Russell terriers- they were all bouncy and having fun. I was thinking “when will I ever run with high knees?” I had these same feelings in my high school trigonometry class. I will never use this skill set again.

By the time we got to burpees, I was a lost cause. If you don’t know what a burpee is, let me enlighten you.

THOSE. THINGS. ARE. EVIL.

I don’t know if I can express to you what my burpees looked like. Probably like a frog with no legs. Their instinct is to do the big jump at the end, but there isn’t any true possibility or likelyhood of ever making that leap a reality.

Meanwhile, Angie, who goes to my church, was front and center, getting incredible hang time on her leaps. Every time she left the floor, she had a vertical distance of at least 3 feet. It was putting me to shame. So I kept trying. I wasn’t going to give fat girls a bad name. But I’m pretty sure I did anyway. I could only get 2 inches off the floor at any given time.

Plus about that time, my Carnation Instant breakfast starting making a second appearance. I could feel it rising to the top of my esophagus, itching to visit the gym floor. The last thing I wanted to do was Ralph in front of all the skinnies. Wouldn’t that have been a sight? So I started taking it easy. Deep slow breaths, no major up and down motions. Lots of prayer to keep my breakfast down. In my whole life, I have never worked out so hard I almost puked. So if that is any indication of how hard this class is… well, I hope you feel my pain.

Eventually, I made it through to the floor exercises- abs, leg lifts, planks, and fun stuff like that. I was so thankful to be down on the ground! I started smiling like crazy. Stockholm syndrome, I think… but I sailed through all the yoga-ish moves with no problems. Score one for the fat girl in the back!

As I left the gym that day, I thought “You made it!” and felt a great sense of accomplishment. I had overcome the evil Boot Camp and didn’t vomit. Or cramp up. Or make too much of a fool of myself.

Nope, that was going to come later in the night.

Because Monday nights I walk at the YMCA with Tricky Nikki. She’s stuck there with lessons, and we walk on the above track. Remember that? I took pictures this time.

So I decided at the last minute I would take Matt’s car. I have no idea why. Just a whim. And when I got to the Y, I do what I always do. Take my van key off the key ring and shove it in my bra.

Did you catch that?

I didn’t, until I realized that I had left my Y card in the car. So I fished the VAN key back out of my bra, and tried to stick the VAN KEY in the CAR LOCK.

Needless to say, I was locked out.

I walk into the Y, figuring that I would figure out something. But being locked out was no reason to miss a workout. So Tricky Nikki was standing at the counter, and I walked up casually to her.

“Hey, do you have a quarter on you?”

“I have one in my purse in the locker room, why?”

“Cause my purse and my keys are locked in the car, and I only have a dollar in my pocket. I need a drink.”

For those of you who haven’t met me in real life, I am notorious for locking myself out.

So we laughed together, and went on with our night.

We walked for an hour on the above track…

 …which is exactly as scary as I said it was.

Then we hit the fitness center with the machines. I had to check in with McMuscles. His real name is Don, but he’s got to be at least 6’5” with about 400 pounds of nothing but muscles. Probably not that much, but big doesn’t begin to describe McMuscles. He’s the 8^th wonder of the modern world. I’ll get a picture of him soon.

So McMuscles is my new fitness “partner.” He’s not too keen on the term trainer, but prefers partner. He’s big enough I won’t argue. And I had to explain to him that I had slept in on Saturday instead of meeting him and his group to workout. And we chit chatted for a while until Tricky Nikki and I had to get back to the business of getting skinny.

And we hit the elliptical (also known in my house as the eviliptical) for 10 minutes. I’m going to tackle that beast one day. Then Nik had to get her gaggle of kids and hit the road. I did the machines I know I have to do (triceps, bicepts, and shoulders) and knocked myself out on them. I was officially at utter and dismal muscle failure. At last!

So I texted our daughter Amy and asked her to tell Daddy I had locked myself out of the car. She texted back that they were on their way, so I ran out of the YMCA without telling McMuscles goodbye. (It’s ok. I’m going to work out with him tonight. I’ll fill you in on the gory details later.)

So the tally for the day?

Boot Camp- 1 hour 15 minutes of torture.

Walking- 1 hour of conversation with a sister/BFF.

Eviliptical- 10 minutes and 70 calories burned.

Machines- who the heck knows.

Locked out- got back in.

Charlie- walking like an 80 year old woman for 2 days.

Priceless.