Otherwise known as What Really Counts...
My School District Boot Camp, which I chronicled in the fall with my Back to Boot Camp six-part series, kicked off its spring session on Monday. I've been looking forward to boot camp since January, when I emailed Chad (our instructor in pain and madness) and asked him when another after-school session would be available. A couple of the women I had been in camp with kept up their boot camp-esque workouts after the fall session of My School District Boot Camp ended, but I was training for the half-marathon, and that felt that that was enough.
Then I lost my dad, and to be honest, at that point, just getting out of bed and showing up to work was enough.
Grief is... really... crummy. That's all I'll say about that for now. Y'all know what I went through in January and February, and what I'm still going through. This post isn't about what I'm going through, it's about what I am fighting through.
For quite a few weeks, I had been counting down to boot camp. There's something about push ups, running, sweating, and working out with a group of women, that is really, really fun.
Really.
Monday the workout wasn't too bad. First we warmed up each muscle group. Then we did a certain number of reps of an exercise (as determined by my favorite little bald man who in no way resembles any character from Lord of the Rings), then ran out to a point specified by an orange cone, and did a certain number of a certain type of jumping jacks, and on, and on. (For example, 10 squats, then out to the cone for 20 vertical jumping jacks, then back for another 10 squats and so on, until Chad determined that it was time for another set of exercises.) Then we did some balance exercises and core work-- situps and a variety of planks.
Before I knew it, it was time to cool down. Class went by really fast. My partner in boot camp crime, Mrs. Glassrooster, once again regained her status as the coolest, most fun pal in pain.
I went home that night, showered, and enjoyed the evening. I felt fine. Better than fine, really!
The next day, I felt a bit of tightness in my abs, but it felt good. I knew that I worked muscles that I had been neglecting. Wednesday morning, however, not only did my abs hurt, but also my inner-thighs. Hmmmmm....
I am not kidding... with each hour of the day my soreness grew more and more intense, and my muscles became even more and more stiff. The act of sitting down hurt. Laughing was no laughing matter.
I went to boot camp Wednesday afternoon and greeted by Chad. Jen! How are you doing?
Chad... I hurt ALL OVER. But that's why I'm here.
It really is. Last fall I lost my love handles, and looked better than I ever have on casual Fridays in my jeans and school t-shirt. I felt incredible.
I want to get that feeling back.
Boot camp is the way. I know this. Plus, it really does feel good to push my body to its limits. Yesterday we did the 100-rep challenge and I was working hard to finish the sheet. I didn't make it, but that's okay... I tried my best. I also can't expect to be in the shape I'll be at the end of camp in the 2nd session. I didn't do anything close to what I did in that last session of camp last November.
But I tried. That's what counts.
Addendum: Tonight's post is the first in a series of 6 posts about My School District Boot Camp. Follow the author as she fights through her pain and grief and finds a bit of herself again... through sweat, pain, and laughter.
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