Monday, April 16, 2012

What Did I Get Myself In To?

Six and a half weeks ago, I had my second abdominal surgery in six months.  For the previous six months, I had days were I couldn't even get out of bed.  Just thinking about exercise made me wince.  After my second surgery, I was assured my problems were fixed.   After a few days of lying around my house nursing a very sore tummy and incisions, my mom said it was time to get moving.  At first I could only walk as far as the stop sign about a quarter mile down the street from my house, and that took me a good 40 minutes or so to complete.  But every day, I started walking a little bit more and a little bit more, pushing myself to go a little bit faster every time.

Two weeks after the operation, my doctor gave me the all clear to do whatever exercise I wanted at the four week mark.  So naturally, after being an involuntary couch potato for six months and being a few weeks out from surgery, I think, "I know what I'll do to get back into shape.  I'll do a boot camp!!!"  Because you know, it's just a hop, skip and a jump from doing nothing and having your tummy cut open to pushing 150 pound sleds up and down a soccer field. 

I showed up to my first day of bootcamp and within, oh, five second, I thought, "Holy hell what did I get myself in to?!"   The camp is run by an amazing instructor who has waaaaaay too much energy for 6am.  She doesn't walk anywhere, she sprints.  I had half a mind to tell her Lloyd Dobler Say Anything Style: "DUDE. YOU MUST CHILL."  Now I just want whatever drug she's on.  

Boot camp had us running laps around a soccer field, doing jumping jacks, push ups, jump rope, playing with kettle bells, Bosu balls, and all sorts of stuff I have not done since I was 8 years old in elementary school.  We had to do a running challenge around the soccer field and I came in a good minute behind the rest of the group.  I felt like the kid who would be picked last in dodgeball.  The next day, I could barely move. 

I honestly thought about dropping out.  For better or worse though, I'm a very proud and stubborn person.  After having boasted to about half the people I knew that I was starting a boot camp, I would have been embarrassed to quit.  So I stuck with it.  I started running on my own so that I wouldn't feel like this kid when the two lap challenge came around.  I reminded myself that my brother was a professional athlete in the NFL and my twin sister runs half marathons.  I could do this too!  The next time the run challenge came around, I shaved over 45 seconds off my time.  I took off even more the next time the run challenge came around.

This is the last week of this round of bootcamp and I managed to push this machine loaded with 70 extra pounds (so 145 pounds total) up and down a portion of the soccer field in 3:44--the second fastest time for the group.  Then I rolled around on the field for a good three minutes groaning in pain.  Whatever, I did it.   

I'm officially addicted to bootcamp.  Hoo Rah.

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