Boot Camp Update

Well...I haven't quit yet, which is surprising considering what I thought after the first session. The second session nearly killed me. We did circuits, a minute each of crazy exercises like burpees, mountain climbers, engines, etc. And we repeated this over and over and over until I thought there was no way they could possibly ask us to do them again, and they did. I barely survived. And the grass we did all this on made my skin itch well into the night. It kind of felt like the point of no return, like I've come this far, there's no going back now. When Friday came around, the last thing I wanted to do was end the week with a 90-minute workout in 98 degree heat when most normal people were enjoying happy hour. But there I was, running through an obstacle course at 6:30 on a Friday night. I felt pretty good about making it through the first week and thought there wasn't too much else that I wouldn't be able to handle. Then Monday came and they ordered each of us to grab a 50-pound sandbag. Trying to grasp these sandbags while doing chest presses, squats, bent-over rows, and bicep curls was beyond challenging. I prefer dumbbells any day. What really got me was that the sandbags leaked sand into my eyes, mouth and all over my chest. Plus I broke two of them when I slammed them to the ground, which frustrated the instructor. I tried to remind her that we were in fact at a gym and there are plenty of real weights inside, but to no avail. Tonight marks session five of boot camp and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't absolutely dreading it.

Boot Camp

Signed up for a four-week boot camp class at my gym, which began on Monday, one of the hottest days on record in Northwest Arkansas.
I was already regretting this decision and then when I got there, the instructors were measuring everyone's body parts and body fat percentage (by pinching the hell out of our arms and sides) in a tiny office with hardly any room to stand.
Once that torture was over, they handed us dog tags and said we had to wear them for the next four weeks. Dog tags don't exactly match my style, so I made a mental note to try and keep it in my car at all times so I won't forget to bring it to class, which results in extra push-ups and sprints.
Then I took the opportunity to look around at the people I'd be spending Monday, Wednesday and Friday evenings with for the month. Moving around a lot as I kid, I've gotten pretty good at measuring people up and deciding who I would befriend. None of these people seemed like friend potential and most of them annoyed the hell out of me with their over-enthusiasm for exercise.
They were actually excited about their dog tags.
Regardless, I tried to keep an open mind and even managed to smile at a few people. (Not the woman wearing a visor and carrying a lunch box and first aid kit.)
So, we started out with some really lame stretches that were yelled out in military style by instructors wearing combat boots. We were instructed to repeat the name of the stretch or exercise back in the same military-style cadence. I quickly wondered if I could get a way with just mouthing the words and found that I could not, they were actually watching each of us to make sure we yelled loudly, so I reluctantly chimed in and thanked God that none of my friends were there to witness.
We looked like a bunch of fools in front of the gym, doing jumping jacks and yelling in unison.
I swallowed my pride and reminded myself that I could not get my money back.
We then had to do fitness tests, seeing how many sit-ups and push-ups we can do in a minute. I told myself not to go overboard, as this was just the beginning of a 90 minute class. Plus if I kept my numbers low, I would impress everyone with my increased numbers at the end of the course.
Still, I managed to do more than everyone else and realized I'd set myself up for high expectations from the instructors.
But then it came time to complete a one-mile run, in 100 degree temps, with the sun beating down on us. I've never been able to run very much. I've tried numerous times to become a runner and it just doesn't work for me. My lungs burn and I get sharp pains in my side, not to mention I just plain hate running with no particular destination in mind. So, I walked a lot of the one-mile, gasping for breath the whole time.
I'm pretty sure I brought the instructors expectations back down.
We then waited for everyone to finish the run...we're were encouraged to run back to our teammates and cheer them on to the finish line but my body wasn't going any where. Nor was I in the mood for cheering.
So after that it was time to do the obstacle course. It was fairly simple until we got to some wires that we're supposed to crawl under on our hands and knees.
I was hot, sweaty and had no desire to get grass and dirt on my knees but I obliged. When I got up, I could feel the hives forming on my arms and legs because of the itchy grass. I knew I had about five to ten minutes before a full-on allergic reaction set in.
So I tried to wash the offending grass residue off with water and pretend I wasn't itching like crazy while the instructors handed out a "spirit stick."
Just how cheesy was this going to get?
I'll find out tonight, when I go back for round two. Lord help me.