Back to Boot Camp... Part 2

Otherwise known as Pain Thy Name is Chiisai Tabata

Last Wednesday Chad had all kinds of fun in store for us My County School District Employee Boot Campers.  After warming up, we each got a sheet with at least ten different exercises on it, with 100 reps of each activity, divided up into ten reps each.  The idea is to mix it up at a pace that works for each individual boot camper.  Fun like push-ups, sit ups, jumping jacks, squats, lunges, bicep curls... you get the idea.  There was also a line with ten laps on it, divided into ten.  The laps were intended to be "rest" periods.

Because you know, when you think of resting, you think of running a lap, right?

Chad does.

I guess that's all that counts.

We had forty minutes to get as much done on the sheet of torture (and fitness) as we could.  I started with jumping jacks, took a lap, then did about 30 lunges, 30 squats, and 20 bent over rows.  I took a lap, then tackled another set of 30, 30, 20.  I worked this way through much of the page.  I have admit, I only did 20 push-ups, despite Chad's threat to make me do 100 push-ups after my Gollum reference in Back to Boot Camp... Part 1.

The workout was highly effective.  I pushed myself, and while I didn't finish everything on the sheet, I got further than I think I ever have before, having had the privilege of being an experienced boot camper.  We worked for forty minutes, and I have to say the time went by incredibly fast.  When we were done, I was drenched with sweat and my face, being the Scotch-Irish-English American mutt that I am, was bright red.  Totally normal for me if I exert myself for more than five minutes. 

This is usually not a problem.  On Wednesday evenings, though, I take salsa lessons at a studio in the downtown area of the Slightly Bigger Town than My Small Town.  Lessons start just after seven.  Boot camp ends at 5:45.  I raced home, got my sweaty body into a cold, cold shower for about twenty minutes, after which time I was still red, but sufficiently cooled off.  I put on a cute black dress and my favorite dance shoes, and drove to class, which was incredibly fun, as always.  (I mean that in the sense of real fun, not sarcastic fun, which is the fun I use when I describe boot camp activities.)  After a month, I have seen real improvement in my ability to do several of the dance moves.  It drives me to keep going, which I'm sure is the instructor's aim.  I met up with my pal Remon, who was in my very first dance class, and asked me at the end of the session if I would be going to the social in a couple of weeks.

Yep!  It's the night before my birthday, and Linette is my date!

Jen, why do you have to be like that?

Hey!  It takes courage to get through the door.  Linette helps me with that.  I look forward to dancing with you, Remon, and practicing the steps we've learned.

We've both come a long way since that first class.  It's also nice to know that there's a man who actually looks forward to the opportunity of having me step on his foot. 

Today at boot camp, we were given the enjoyable task of baby tabatas, which is when you do an intense activity for a certain amount of time (in this case 20 seconds) have a tiny amount of recovery time, then do the activity for the same amount of time, repeating the cycle for two minutes, or four minutes, or however long your trainer (or yourself) decides you need to do it.  I wanted to tell Chad to call them chiisai tabatas.  Chiisai is the Japanese word for small.  Akachan is the word for baby, but I don't like the sound of akachan tabatas... but chiisai tabatas (pronounced cheesigh)... there's a certain ring to it.  (At least I think so.)

We started with push-ups.

I loathe pushups.

That said, when I started boot camp this time around, I made a decision that I was going to do real push-ups and not the push-ups that start at the knees.  Last week I couldn't get down very far.  While I'm still a long way from a true push-up, I have noticed that I could go at least an inch deeper today than I could do last week.  That's progress!

That's what camp is all about... pushing yourself, and doing better a little bit each time.  It's a great feeling, and it's why I keep coming back.  Even after being away for well over a year, it feels like... home.  I always make a friend or two, and even though I'm always glad when we are cooling down, the workout really is fun.  Challenging, but fun.  It makes me feel like I've accomplished something great when I get in my car and drive home for that post-workout cold shower.

Although I whine a bit to myself each time Chad comes up with more fun for us campers.  But for me, whining is fun.  It's my bit of humor that gets me through the workout.

That and old school Bush which had been preceded by Nancy Sinatra singing about what her boots were made to do during my last set of push-ups during the chiisai tabata part of camp today.  I've never been more thankful for a song with a driving beat.  Nancy's boots might be made for walking, but this Small Town Girl's workouts were made to rock.   


Addendum:  In an effort to avoid further affliction based on these posts, the author wants the reader to note that our intrepid leader, Chad, does not in fact look like Gollum.  The author is an innocent jokester not wishing to cause her favorite boot camp leader emotional distress.  Or reason to give the author additional push-ups.