I think it’s fair to blame it on the fact I’ve never before attended a fitness Boot Camp.
Well, that, and my brain and body are offended by the 4:50am wake-up call to get to said Boot Camp on time. They just aren’t fully awake by 5:30.
And lest anyone think Boot Camp is about finding All the Cute Shoes, it is my duty to inform you that nothing is cute at 5:30 in the morning and they only call it that to lure you. Bait and switch at its finest.
For the past year I’ve noticed six-week sessions for Boot Camp at my church, and for some ungodly reason I decided to sign up this go ’round. Even though I am a resolutions girl, I’d like to think it has nothing to do with the new year – fitness goals are so cliché. But the truth is my body is betraying me and I’m trying to fight back.
It’s true what you’ve heard: things start shifting north of 50 and I’m trying to remind them where they belong.
So, I kidnapped my neighbor and off we went to the Great Unknown. Marie is the Zumba Queen but she’s never done Boot Camp, either. We figured we’d laugh our way through on the back row, and maybe drink gin and smoke cigarettes.
I promise that’s a joke. Well, the last part, anyway.
Thanking the Lord for all things pure and holy, we discovered our instructor was no drill sergeant; instead, she sweetly but firmly delivers our marching orders in a way that makes us want to do them…or try to do them. Marie says Karen has the nicest way of being so mean. I’m convinced all trainers are sadists whether they bark, bite or whisper.
We get through that first hour on that first day of the first week of Boot Camp, thrilled to have lived to tell. After I’ve returned home, it is when my son gets up that the fun begins.
Me: Boot Camp kicked my butt today. Literally.
Stephen (noticing the work out clothes and remembering that I’m going): So what do y’all do?
Me: Everything. Running, weights, lunges, thigh and ab work, furbies…
Stephen (blink blink): What’s a furby?
Me: [Sorta demonstrate the motion] [too worn out to really do it]
Stephen (laughing): Mom…that’s a burpee…!
Me: Huh?
Stephen: A B U R P E E…like [fake burps]…BURPee!
Me: blink blink Oooooo…..
Apparently sometimes, ignorance isn’t bliss…it’s bless her heart.
Robin,
You are a fun person. I would love to do boot camp with you!
I can just see you trying to do a burpee. Those are hard. I have trouble with the push up parts!
You go girl!!!
For the record, I hate burpees. With a passion and sometimes I just tell my sadistic trainer that I am not doing them…well, maybe I just THINK that is what will happen! I love you and good for you that you are trying to keep things where they belong!!
I used to work out with a trainer, and sometimes I’d just shake my head at the names of exercises. Burpee? Furby? Whatever. Bless my heart. And bless yours!