Wednesday's boot camp has come and gone as has the sore muscles and achy back that came with it.
Overall it was not horrible.
Oh, wait...just as distance makes the heart grow fonder, I believe time has made my memory foggy.
There were the squats on the wall. The kicking the wall. The cursing the wall...what did the poor wall ever do to me?
There were the sprints. I hate sprinting.
Then there were these step up with weights and lean over things...thank heavens Ethan got pushed down in the day care room and busted his mouth, thus giving me an out at exactly the right moment...I went out and bought my favorite child an extra Christmas present after that big save.
And today, day one of bringing all three boys to boot camp (and thus allowing Jackson to not be nervous because he'd have big brother Brennan to protect him), I am at home. Eating Cap't Crunch (Peanut Butter flavored). Why am I not at boot camp, wearing my great new "team" shirt and sweating my butt off?
Because of...the stomach bugs attacking Brennan. Dang it.
Hope I can at least get to boot camp Wednesday because I found a to-die-for cheesecake recipe and I know I want to eat at least two or three pieces of it.
-Jessica
Monday, December 21, 2009
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Why I'd Get Voted Off The Biggest Loser.
I would, it's true. Probably not first or second, but I wouldn't make it to the end. Well, maybe for 250K, I would, but even then... I doubt it. You see, I start off with great intentions. I get excited, I get others excited. I'm all pumped up when I start. But then? Then I start the actual physical agony, and I lose steam about half way through.
That was the case today. I got to boot camp, and dropped baby C off in the day care room. Once again the flesh of my blood, my first-born, deserted me without a backward glance? REALLY, kid?? Ugh. So, I heaved myself outta there, and headed to the gym. We started off by running laps. I still hate running, but I hate it a lot less when it's indoors. Me and Nature are natural foes. I am TERRIFIED the slave driver will make us run outside, and I will slip and fall. As aforementioned in another post, me and winter weather don't mix. So, I was happy to haul my fat ass around the gym. I ran 3 laps, walked 1, and ran the rest. I don't know how many we ran, I lost count.
Next up, we jumped rope. I don't look forward to this. Not because of the physical exertion (but don't be fooled, I huff and puff more than the big bad wolf), but because I am completely lacking in coordination. I'm pretty sure a one legged man with hooks for hands would be better at it than I am. I am forever tripping over the rope. We were ordered to then jump just on one leg, then just on the other. Um, excuse me? I'm fat. I'm not so sure one leg can support all that flab flying around. I kept thinking that I hoped they were insured, since I was destined to fall.
After (attempting) to jump rope, we did chariot races. I still like these, I think they are fun. Mostly because I can slow whoever my partner is down with my sheer fat-ness. Woohoo, I excel at something!! Shantel really gave me a run for my money though, and the elastic bands were digging into me. When I was done, I was fairly certain I had severed an artery in my stomach somewhere from the pressure. We did those for a while. I've found at boot camp, it's a lot better to NOT keep count of how many of something you are doing. That way you can try to trick yourself into thinking it's a lot less than it really is.
After that, we all lined up at one end of the gym. We were ordered to sprint as fast as we could to the other end, drop and do 10 push ups. Jump up, run back, drop and do 9 push ups. Jump up, run back and do 8 and so on and so forth. Um, didn't we already run?? This was tough. Not so much the push ups, but the running. Half way through, I was exhausted. I kept trying to tell myself there was a big ole Krispy Kreme Donut at the other end of the gym, but I couldn't fool myself.
When we were done with that bit of torture, we paired up. One person did a wall squat while the other ran to the other end of the gym and jumped up and down off of a big step 20 times. I heard somebody say "Wow, it's a lot tougher than it looks!" and thought I was screwed, because it already looked damn near impossible. I don't care what you say about muscle weighing more than fat. It's a croc. I'm all fat, and it's a LOT to heave it a few feet into the air. Besides, 1 pound of fat weighs the same as 1 pound of muscle. This is where I got lucky. Either we had an uneven number, or somebody went and puked in the bathroom for all the exercise, cause I ended up with no partner. So guess who didn't do the 20 jumps a zillion times? I know, only cheating myself. But my knees and ankles sure are thanking me tonight!
Next up were these God-awful stations that got worse with every rotation. Leg kicks with stretchy bands, lunges holding huge exercise balls while twisting, back elevated lunges with weights, butt raises with exercise balls and finally running up and down (one step, over and over. And over. AND OVER) on the bleachers. Hideous. By this point my shirt was soaked, my hat was drenched, and I wanted a juice box and a mat to nap on.
But no. Then we ran some more laps. I don't know how many, I was too busy sobbing quietly, and wishing it was MY kid who had busted his mouth open (you are SO lucky, Jess).
More wall squats. Raising our heels off the ground while doing them. More sprints, and touching the ground (I was wondering if "touching" the ground counted if I collapsed?), and then wall kicks all in a row. I may have left some things out. I really tried to block it out as it went along.
Seriously, halfway through, I was ready to quit. I was wondering WHY in the effity eff I had signed up for this misery. I could be at home, in sweats, curled up with the fire on. Once again, I was near vomiting several times. And this was only ONE HOUR! On the biggest loser, they do this crap for like 8 hours a day!
We'll see how I feel in the morning. The rest of today wasn't bad. It was tough getting Chubby Lumpkins to the car, but after that, I was fine. My muscles aren't horrendously sore, so that's a step in the right direction. We'll see what tomorrow brings.
That was the case today. I got to boot camp, and dropped baby C off in the day care room. Once again the flesh of my blood, my first-born, deserted me without a backward glance? REALLY, kid?? Ugh. So, I heaved myself outta there, and headed to the gym. We started off by running laps. I still hate running, but I hate it a lot less when it's indoors. Me and Nature are natural foes. I am TERRIFIED the slave driver will make us run outside, and I will slip and fall. As aforementioned in another post, me and winter weather don't mix. So, I was happy to haul my fat ass around the gym. I ran 3 laps, walked 1, and ran the rest. I don't know how many we ran, I lost count.
Next up, we jumped rope. I don't look forward to this. Not because of the physical exertion (but don't be fooled, I huff and puff more than the big bad wolf), but because I am completely lacking in coordination. I'm pretty sure a one legged man with hooks for hands would be better at it than I am. I am forever tripping over the rope. We were ordered to then jump just on one leg, then just on the other. Um, excuse me? I'm fat. I'm not so sure one leg can support all that flab flying around. I kept thinking that I hoped they were insured, since I was destined to fall.
After (attempting) to jump rope, we did chariot races. I still like these, I think they are fun. Mostly because I can slow whoever my partner is down with my sheer fat-ness. Woohoo, I excel at something!! Shantel really gave me a run for my money though, and the elastic bands were digging into me. When I was done, I was fairly certain I had severed an artery in my stomach somewhere from the pressure. We did those for a while. I've found at boot camp, it's a lot better to NOT keep count of how many of something you are doing. That way you can try to trick yourself into thinking it's a lot less than it really is.
After that, we all lined up at one end of the gym. We were ordered to sprint as fast as we could to the other end, drop and do 10 push ups. Jump up, run back, drop and do 9 push ups. Jump up, run back and do 8 and so on and so forth. Um, didn't we already run?? This was tough. Not so much the push ups, but the running. Half way through, I was exhausted. I kept trying to tell myself there was a big ole Krispy Kreme Donut at the other end of the gym, but I couldn't fool myself.
When we were done with that bit of torture, we paired up. One person did a wall squat while the other ran to the other end of the gym and jumped up and down off of a big step 20 times. I heard somebody say "Wow, it's a lot tougher than it looks!" and thought I was screwed, because it already looked damn near impossible. I don't care what you say about muscle weighing more than fat. It's a croc. I'm all fat, and it's a LOT to heave it a few feet into the air. Besides, 1 pound of fat weighs the same as 1 pound of muscle. This is where I got lucky. Either we had an uneven number, or somebody went and puked in the bathroom for all the exercise, cause I ended up with no partner. So guess who didn't do the 20 jumps a zillion times? I know, only cheating myself. But my knees and ankles sure are thanking me tonight!
Next up were these God-awful stations that got worse with every rotation. Leg kicks with stretchy bands, lunges holding huge exercise balls while twisting, back elevated lunges with weights, butt raises with exercise balls and finally running up and down (one step, over and over. And over. AND OVER) on the bleachers. Hideous. By this point my shirt was soaked, my hat was drenched, and I wanted a juice box and a mat to nap on.
But no. Then we ran some more laps. I don't know how many, I was too busy sobbing quietly, and wishing it was MY kid who had busted his mouth open (you are SO lucky, Jess).
More wall squats. Raising our heels off the ground while doing them. More sprints, and touching the ground (I was wondering if "touching" the ground counted if I collapsed?), and then wall kicks all in a row. I may have left some things out. I really tried to block it out as it went along.
Seriously, halfway through, I was ready to quit. I was wondering WHY in the effity eff I had signed up for this misery. I could be at home, in sweats, curled up with the fire on. Once again, I was near vomiting several times. And this was only ONE HOUR! On the biggest loser, they do this crap for like 8 hours a day!
We'll see how I feel in the morning. The rest of today wasn't bad. It was tough getting Chubby Lumpkins to the car, but after that, I was fine. My muscles aren't horrendously sore, so that's a step in the right direction. We'll see what tomorrow brings.
Monday, December 14, 2009
Boot Camp Day...I have no idea, I've lost track!-UPDATED
Woke up this morning to snow...and ice. Yeah.
BUT I preserved and went anyway. Megan had to skip because C is not feeling good and you never know when sickness will strike, so I did not want to miss because of snow then have a kid get sick and miss because of that.
It started out okay. Jack did NOT want to go in to day care, but after about 15 minutes and sitting under a bench, I was told he was fine. He is now happily playing the Wii (something he lost because he would not go to day care last time...I even played with him for a few minutes. Yeah, I rock as a mom.)
The work out was extreme, but in small doses. The last time I was at boot camp, where we just kept adding and adding and adding was KILLER. I wanted to die.
This time, it was just two things at a time, a few sets (first 90 second set, then 60, then 30), run two laps, a few sets, etc. Each exercise was hard (well, except the jumping jacks, those weren't too bad), but since you knew it was only for a short amount of time, doable. EXCEPT these "mountain climber" lunge things that Ms. Uncoordinated (ME) knew were impossible...I just did my own pretend version of those :)
Some exercises we did (with very unofficial names): Jumping Jacks w/ weights where instead of doing our arms side to side, they went up and down; jumping rope (so hard to do when you've had babies...); bicycle crunches; running laps, some sort of bicept curls with bands; some sort of put the band behind your back and pull ups (those were awfully hard and I could not do it the entire time!); the bench squat things that I hate); these step things where you leave one foot on the bench and step up and down with the other foot (hard after #10...did 25 in a row). I finally had to ask Jess to stop her ten second count downs because the last ten seconds seemed to get harder and harder, but without her countdown, I didn't know I was at the end and was able to almost finish most of the exercises. (Hope the other ladies didn't mind)
Now that I am home, my legs and arms are tired. Not sore. Tired. Like, typing this is making them sleepy.
Wednesday we get our tee shirts we ordered! Yeah! Group picture to follow...
UPDATED: Okay. I just sat on the floor for over an hour wrapping Christmas gifts. When I went to get up...well, I fell back down! My tush and the back of my thighs are KILLING me whenever I move. So, I hobbled upstairs like an old lady, popped a few ibuprofen and am about to go to bed. I fear for morning!!!!
-Jessica
BUT I preserved and went anyway. Megan had to skip because C is not feeling good and you never know when sickness will strike, so I did not want to miss because of snow then have a kid get sick and miss because of that.
It started out okay. Jack did NOT want to go in to day care, but after about 15 minutes and sitting under a bench, I was told he was fine. He is now happily playing the Wii (something he lost because he would not go to day care last time...I even played with him for a few minutes. Yeah, I rock as a mom.)
The work out was extreme, but in small doses. The last time I was at boot camp, where we just kept adding and adding and adding was KILLER. I wanted to die.
This time, it was just two things at a time, a few sets (first 90 second set, then 60, then 30), run two laps, a few sets, etc. Each exercise was hard (well, except the jumping jacks, those weren't too bad), but since you knew it was only for a short amount of time, doable. EXCEPT these "mountain climber" lunge things that Ms. Uncoordinated (ME) knew were impossible...I just did my own pretend version of those :)
Some exercises we did (with very unofficial names): Jumping Jacks w/ weights where instead of doing our arms side to side, they went up and down; jumping rope (so hard to do when you've had babies...); bicycle crunches; running laps, some sort of bicept curls with bands; some sort of put the band behind your back and pull ups (those were awfully hard and I could not do it the entire time!); the bench squat things that I hate); these step things where you leave one foot on the bench and step up and down with the other foot (hard after #10...did 25 in a row). I finally had to ask Jess to stop her ten second count downs because the last ten seconds seemed to get harder and harder, but without her countdown, I didn't know I was at the end and was able to almost finish most of the exercises. (Hope the other ladies didn't mind)
Now that I am home, my legs and arms are tired. Not sore. Tired. Like, typing this is making them sleepy.
Wednesday we get our tee shirts we ordered! Yeah! Group picture to follow...
UPDATED: Okay. I just sat on the floor for over an hour wrapping Christmas gifts. When I went to get up...well, I fell back down! My tush and the back of my thighs are KILLING me whenever I move. So, I hobbled upstairs like an old lady, popped a few ibuprofen and am about to go to bed. I fear for morning!!!!
-Jessica
Woe Is Me.
Boot Camp day three? Like Jess, I had to miss it. Carson was up all night long. There was lots of crying. Then he got up for the day at 6am. Except, he was soooo exhausted, he just sat and sobbed. We finally got him calmed and asleep by 7:15. Of course that meant no boot camp. The kid slept until 11:30! It was a sucky situation, but had I lugged him there, he would have just cried, and I would have had to leave anyway.
Boot Camp day four? Um, yeah. We got a schlooooad of snow, and pretty much the entire city shut down. No boot camp.
That brings us to today, Boot Camp day five! Sigh. I have a sick kid. He took a 3 hour nap yesterday morning (after sleeping 12 hours the night before) and a FOUR hour nap yesterday afternoon. He was awake for maybe 3 hours yesterday. He's lethargic, doesn't want to eat, and has a fever. Which means? No day care room for him.
I will add that we had an ice storm last night, and all parking lots, sidewalks, driveways, etc are covered in a slicker than snot sheet of ice. Tom was NOT very excited about me going out in this, especially trying to carry Carson through a parking lot. Me and ice? We have a baaad relationship. Each year, I fall and brutally injure something because of ice. Want a good laugh? Read here about how I bit it on the ice last year, while pushing a brand new baby C in the stroller.
So... boot camp? I miss you! My gelatin thighs and double chin(s) are yearning for your brutal-ness. Maybe I'll see you Wednesday?? A girl can dream.....
Boot Camp day four? Um, yeah. We got a schlooooad of snow, and pretty much the entire city shut down. No boot camp.
That brings us to today, Boot Camp day five! Sigh. I have a sick kid. He took a 3 hour nap yesterday morning (after sleeping 12 hours the night before) and a FOUR hour nap yesterday afternoon. He was awake for maybe 3 hours yesterday. He's lethargic, doesn't want to eat, and has a fever. Which means? No day care room for him.
I will add that we had an ice storm last night, and all parking lots, sidewalks, driveways, etc are covered in a slicker than snot sheet of ice. Tom was NOT very excited about me going out in this, especially trying to carry Carson through a parking lot. Me and ice? We have a baaad relationship. Each year, I fall and brutally injure something because of ice. Want a good laugh? Read here about how I bit it on the ice last year, while pushing a brand new baby C in the stroller.
So... boot camp? I miss you! My gelatin thighs and double chin(s) are yearning for your brutal-ness. Maybe I'll see you Wednesday?? A girl can dream.....
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Wait, what? There was a Day Three?
Oh, I went to Camelot Community Center to attend Day Three of bootcamp. I drove through the slushy streets and parked my car in the freshly plowed parking lot.
I unloaded a happy baby and a rebellious preschooler to drop them off at the child care room.
Then, the rebellious preschooler refused to go in, cried, threw a fit, etc. No amount of coaxing or bribery was changing him.
Finally, I loaded the happy baby and the rebellious preschooler into the car and went home. The rebellious preschooler spent the morning in his room, striped of anything resembling fun. The happy baby and I relaxed and watched Mickey Mouse Clubhouse.
Sigh.
I do have a game plan for Wednesday IF the weather does not turn the entire metro area into one gigantic Popsicle. It involves me reminding preschooler how bored he was in his room, how much fun he is missing by NOT getting to play the Nintendo DS during this snow day with his big brother, and by bribing him with the chance of playing Foosball when I am done working out next time. I think it will work and I hope the rebellious preschooler is starting to see that mommy means business and will not let him rule her. And yes, I've thought of better ways to handle the situation AFTER the time has come and gone, but alas, I will deal with the situation I've already created.
-Jessica
I unloaded a happy baby and a rebellious preschooler to drop them off at the child care room.
Then, the rebellious preschooler refused to go in, cried, threw a fit, etc. No amount of coaxing or bribery was changing him.
Finally, I loaded the happy baby and the rebellious preschooler into the car and went home. The rebellious preschooler spent the morning in his room, striped of anything resembling fun. The happy baby and I relaxed and watched Mickey Mouse Clubhouse.
Sigh.
I do have a game plan for Wednesday IF the weather does not turn the entire metro area into one gigantic Popsicle. It involves me reminding preschooler how bored he was in his room, how much fun he is missing by NOT getting to play the Nintendo DS during this snow day with his big brother, and by bribing him with the chance of playing Foosball when I am done working out next time. I think it will work and I hope the rebellious preschooler is starting to see that mommy means business and will not let him rule her. And yes, I've thought of better ways to handle the situation AFTER the time has come and gone, but alas, I will deal with the situation I've already created.
-Jessica
Thursday, December 3, 2009
A Train Wreck.
That's sort of what I feel like. Like I've been in a train wreck. I didn't want to wake up even a little bit today. When I woke up, I had to talk myself into moving. I was quite sorry that I did. I'm fairly certain this is what Tiger Woods felt like the day after his wife beat the crap out of him.
I sort of rolled myself out of bed, and might have shed a tear or two. Then I realized that Jess and I were supposed to go walking this morning, and I cried even more. Tom was already gone, so my mind began fashioning ways to get Carson to climb out of his crib on his own, cause I certainly wasn't going to lift him!! I made it downstairs and had some water, and started moving around a bit.
The more I moved, the looser my muscles became. By the timethe thirty pound lead weight Carson woke up, I was able to get him out of the crib with minimal shrieking. It's now 11:45, and I'm actually less sore today than I was after Day 1. Don't get me wrong... every muscle hurts (except my thighs... what's with that?), but I can still function. I'd really love to just lay on the couch under a blanket today, though.
I am simultaneously excited and dreading Monday. I'd be happy to never ever run again. Ever.
I sort of rolled myself out of bed, and might have shed a tear or two. Then I realized that Jess and I were supposed to go walking this morning, and I cried even more. Tom was already gone, so my mind began fashioning ways to get Carson to climb out of his crib on his own, cause I certainly wasn't going to lift him!! I made it downstairs and had some water, and started moving around a bit.
The more I moved, the looser my muscles became. By the time
I am simultaneously excited and dreading Monday. I'd be happy to never ever run again. Ever.
Grocery Shopping the day after being dragged behind a herd of wild horses
Oh, wait...I'm not in the old west.
They don't tie people up and drag them behind horses.
I'm in 2009, in the midwest. (Where it is super cold to me today, btw)
And I had to go grocery shopping, though just about every single muscle in my body yelled, "NO! NO! NO!"
I stretched (in bed, under the nice warm covers). I drank water, I took tylonel. I still felt like crap.
But, my family would revolt and throw me to the wild horses to stomp my guts some more, so I persevered, loaded up 60 + pounds of children into the car, and drove to the grocery store, unloaded the 60 + lbs of children and picked both of them UP into the cart.
I thought long and hard about each purchase I needed to make, especially those located on the very bottom and very top shelves. Those cookies I am supposed to bake for the cookie exchange almost didn't happen because the corn syrup was on the top shelf and pushed waaaaaay back. Lucky for me, a grocery store employee was walking by, had freakishly long arms, and was able to easily snag it for me.
Each can of soup or green beans reminded me of my experiences yesterday, and that my muscles were not my friends today. They reminded me that I have not been a friend to them, either. I have ignored good health and exercise long enough. (And yes, I realize I did buy a bottle of corn syrup, probably high fructose...don't judge...the sugar cookies I am about to bake are soooo worth it.) Now, I must suffer the agony pay the price of this bad decision and work on improving my relationship with my body.
It's hard, but so is being mistaken as a pregnant lady year round...
BTW, another friend of ours started to document her journey at our bootcamp. She is actually a trained personal trainer, so her point of view is different from ours...go check her out.
She posted her starting weight...I am not sure if I will do the same, I mean...those sugar cookies I am about to bake are darn good and Christmas is coming and my birthday and my TEN YEAR wedding anniversary...hm, maybe I need to evaluate some of my eating habits :)
-Jessica
They don't tie people up and drag them behind horses.
I'm in 2009, in the midwest. (Where it is super cold to me today, btw)
And I had to go grocery shopping, though just about every single muscle in my body yelled, "NO! NO! NO!"
I stretched (in bed, under the nice warm covers). I drank water, I took tylonel. I still felt like crap.
But, my family would revolt and throw me to the wild horses to stomp my guts some more, so I persevered, loaded up 60 + pounds of children into the car, and drove to the grocery store, unloaded the 60 + lbs of children and picked both of them UP into the cart.
I thought long and hard about each purchase I needed to make, especially those located on the very bottom and very top shelves. Those cookies I am supposed to bake for the cookie exchange almost didn't happen because the corn syrup was on the top shelf and pushed waaaaaay back. Lucky for me, a grocery store employee was walking by, had freakishly long arms, and was able to easily snag it for me.
Each can of soup or green beans reminded me of my experiences yesterday, and that my muscles were not my friends today. They reminded me that I have not been a friend to them, either. I have ignored good health and exercise long enough. (And yes, I realize I did buy a bottle of corn syrup, probably high fructose...don't judge...the sugar cookies I am about to bake are soooo worth it.) Now, I must
It's hard, but so is being mistaken as a pregnant lady year round...
BTW, another friend of ours started to document her journey at our bootcamp. She is actually a trained personal trainer, so her point of view is different from ours...go check her out.
She posted her starting weight...I am not sure if I will do the same, I mean...those sugar cookies I am about to bake are darn good and Christmas is coming and my birthday and my TEN YEAR wedding anniversary...hm, maybe I need to evaluate some of my eating habits :)
-Jessica
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Day 2: Megan's Nightmare
So, I thought it could only go uphill. I was so wrong. I thought Day 1 was really tough, and kind of discouraging. Then Day 2 arrived. Once again my first born child decided day care was fun, and had no problem, so I had no "out". I dragged my still aching ass to the gym.
Much to my dismay, we were running again. Another mile. Apparently 30 degrees out isn't too cold to run. I can think of a whole host of other things I'd rather do than run a mile. Or run, anywhere, really. Right now, I'm way too tired to think of them. The twist on today's run was that we were going to do an "Indian Run". Single file, and as we were running, the last person would sprint to the front of the line. When they made it, then the next would sprint, so on and so forth. I immediately started panicking because I couldn't run the whole mile last time. Clearly nothing had changed in a day. We started out, and it didn't take but a minute or two until I had to fall out. The instructor said they'd wait, but I made them go on. I do NOT want to hold anyone else back. So, I power walked, and jogged, alternately.
Let me paint a picture for you... a picture of fat Megan, trudging along. With each torturous step, I am literally feeling the flab fly all over the place. As if the running isn't painful enough, the weight of your big ole stomach sloshing all over the place just adds salt to the wound. Is there a full body sports bra?? Because I need one, stat.
As I was catching up (I never made it back to the line), Jess had fallen out, and so we teamed up. We kept setting small goals (Ok, lets run to the red car, ok, to that driveway) and we alternated running and walking. Today I wasn't nearly as far behind, which was nice.
After that, I was ready to go home. Actually, I'm not going to lie. I was ready to take my fat ass to Winchell's, and have some donuts, and replenish my ever dipping blood sugar levels. But no. That was not to be. The devil in spandex had other plans for us. It was something she called "The Accelerator". I much prefer to call it the "Hot Heaping Pile of Pain and Misery".
It was a circuit, and after each round, we added something new, then started the circuit over. I knew I was screwed when it started with 10 push ups. Here is how it is broken down:
10 push ups
10 jump squats with weights
1 minute jumping rope
10 tricep dips
1 minute of the plank
10 jumping lunges with weights
10 lateral lifts with weights
10 mermaid jumps (jump up, squat down, jump down to push up position, jump back up)
10 bicep curls with weight
1 minute bicycle
Are you effing kidding me?!?! There was flab flying all over the place! I'd be on my 3rd squat jump, and my fat was still having aftershocks from the first jump! Once we made it to the plank (basically staying in the push up position, holding your body wieght up, with your back and butt flat/even), I thought I was going to collapse. I actually would have welcomed a heart attack, it would have been a nice distraction! Sweat was pouring off of my body faster than Disney dumped Lindsay Lohan. My lungs were on fire, and my muscles were shaking like jello. At each round, I kept looking at all the equipment we hadn't even gotten to yet, and wanted to cry.
The jumping rope was a disaster. I have no coordination. When they were handing out coordination, I clearly got in the boobs line twice. She said we could jump in place without the rope, or use or aerobic step to run up and down on that, so I switched to that. I really kept hoping I'd fall and break an ankle. God is so cruel... this summer I tore my calf muscle stepping over a freaking baby gate, but he can't throw me a frikken bone here??? Asshat.
I'm watching Jessica (our instructor, aka the devil in spandex) and she is yelling at us to keep going, and I was in shock. Not at the keep going, and that's why we are here... but that she even has enough breath to yell! I was wheezing like Fat Albert. I couldn't sputter out a yes or no. When asked how I was doing, I may have given a feeble thumbs up. I need a signal for "call 911".
When we finally made it through 10 rounds (TEN FREAKING ROUNDS!!!) I collapsed on the floor. I didn't even have it in me to stretch. Or talk. I was madly trying to work out in my head how I was going to get my kid to the car, cause I sure as hell wasn't carrying him! Every single part of my body aches. My chest is still wheezy, and I can't even drag myself to the shower. Tom is one lucky man, to come home to this hot mess tonight!!!
Can somebody remind me why I paid money for this?????
Day 2...Jessica
If Day One was like having to spend the afternoon with my brother in law in a small car with his guitar in my lap (true story, drove from LA to FL in that position once), Day Two was like going to the OB and having her decide an epidural is not for you and you should just have the baby right away. (not a true story, but I can imagine)
It started out okay, doing an Indian Run...everyone in a straight line, the last person sprints to the front, everyone jogs. I did okay for about 1/2 of this run, then I skipped my turn sprinting. Then I jogged on my own, trying to catch up. Megan was coming up the hill at this time so she just joined me and we walked/jogged back to the community center. Yes, it was a group run, and we broke off from the pack, but it is also a training where we are all at different levels and can go at our own pace...Megan and I have different paces from each other, and from the rest of the pack. I am fine with that.
Once inside, we started some "reps" (guess that is what they are called) where we added to each set at the end. By the end of it, I wanted to DIE. My legs were shaking, my breath was short, my head was hot. If I ever meet the inventor of some of those torturous exercises, I will A) beat them up, B) ask if they were part of the Nazi Concentration Camp Planning Committees. Seriously Bad.
The good thing is that I did run a little more. I did do a few more push ups. And I forced myself to do the things on the bench (Megan do you know what they are called?) that are really hard. Maybe soon, like week two or three...it will become a little easier???
I'm home now. I called my husband and told him that he'd be in charge of dinner tonight, that I just don't see myself doing more then sitting on the couch, in my sweat, recovering. I really want a shower but am too tired to do that right now.
I put E in bed, but *may* have dropped him a little bit to get him there...my arms just gave out. 120 (well, it was me, so let's say 80) pushups will do that to a girl's arms, esp. if her baby is weighing in at almost 30 lbs.
Now...to sit and do NOTHING while I let the inevitable pain and aches of a strenuous workout after not working out in years (jazzercise was at least 3 years ago, folks, and that is prancing around)...does anyone know where the remote is? Max and Ruby is on t.v. and I'd rather not be stuck watching that as I suffer.
-Jessica
It started out okay, doing an Indian Run...everyone in a straight line, the last person sprints to the front, everyone jogs. I did okay for about 1/2 of this run, then I skipped my turn sprinting. Then I jogged on my own, trying to catch up. Megan was coming up the hill at this time so she just joined me and we walked/jogged back to the community center. Yes, it was a group run, and we broke off from the pack, but it is also a training where we are all at different levels and can go at our own pace...Megan and I have different paces from each other, and from the rest of the pack. I am fine with that.
Once inside, we started some "reps" (guess that is what they are called) where we added to each set at the end. By the end of it, I wanted to DIE. My legs were shaking, my breath was short, my head was hot. If I ever meet the inventor of some of those torturous exercises, I will A) beat them up, B) ask if they were part of the Nazi Concentration Camp Planning Committees. Seriously Bad.
The good thing is that I did run a little more. I did do a few more push ups. And I forced myself to do the things on the bench (Megan do you know what they are called?) that are really hard. Maybe soon, like week two or three...it will become a little easier???
I'm home now. I called my husband and told him that he'd be in charge of dinner tonight, that I just don't see myself doing more then sitting on the couch, in my sweat, recovering. I really want a shower but am too tired to do that right now.
I put E in bed, but *may* have dropped him a little bit to get him there...my arms just gave out. 120 (well, it was me, so let's say 80) pushups will do that to a girl's arms, esp. if her baby is weighing in at almost 30 lbs.
Now...to sit and do NOTHING while I let the inevitable pain and aches of a strenuous workout after not working out in years (jazzercise was at least 3 years ago, folks, and that is prancing around)...does anyone know where the remote is? Max and Ruby is on t.v. and I'd rather not be stuck watching that as I suffer.
-Jessica
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
The Day AFTER Day 1.
Oy freaking vey. I feel like I am a 90 year old woman. Muscles hurt that I didn't even know I had. I didn't feel as great as Jess did today. No matter which way I move, something is achey. I'm not in pain, per se, but there is a lot of stiffness and soreness.
What does that mean for tomorrow?? I'm flat out terrified of tomorrow. I'm sure we are going to have to run another mile. I wonder if it would be frowned upon, if I bring an oxygen tank and mask with me??
I'm afraid.... very afraid.
--Megan
The Day After
When my eyes popped open this morning, I did not move.
I was afraid. Very afraid.
I was worried I would move and have lots of aches and pains from running and exercising and pretending to be something I am not...FIT.
However, after a few wiggles and stretches in the bed, I discovered it was not nearly as bad as I first thought. I could move just fine, though I "felt" when I moved. Not pain, per say, just a "feeling."
That is all good and great...what I am more worried about is after our next class, when we are not testing ourselves with a few little challenges, but really working, with weights, ropes, and our sheer determination to NOT look like a jack ass.
We will see what tomorrow brings...
-Jessica
I was afraid. Very afraid.
I was worried I would move and have lots of aches and pains from running and exercising and pretending to be something I am not...FIT.
However, after a few wiggles and stretches in the bed, I discovered it was not nearly as bad as I first thought. I could move just fine, though I "felt" when I moved. Not pain, per say, just a "feeling."
That is all good and great...what I am more worried about is after our next class, when we are not testing ourselves with a few little challenges, but really working, with weights, ropes, and our sheer determination to NOT look like a jack ass.
We will see what tomorrow brings...
-Jessica
Monday, November 30, 2009
Boot Camp Day 1....Jessica's Story
So, I turn 30 in 31 days. Yep. I have three kids and am done being a "Baby Factory" as my mom tells my sons. I should be at the top of my game.
Um, who forgot to tell my body that part?
See, here's my thing...it's that my "girls" are smaller then my belly, thus giving me the look of a woman about three months pregnant all the time. It is embarrassing to have complete strangers ask when the next one is due in line at the grocery store. Or have my three year old poke at my flab and laugh. While I argue that a boob job is WAY easier to handle then a fitness program, my husband does not agree. Maybe he is really just selfish, wanting extra money for lasik eye surgery and other un-necessaries...new bigger boobies and bras are WAY more important then being able to see without glasses. Seriously folks...wife trumps eyes, right?
So, I jumped on the Camelot Bootcamp Train, maybe I even helped kick start it a little bit.
On paper it sounds great, only $40, free childcare provided, 6 weeks.
Then, DAY ONE...the very first thing we have to do is JUMP ROPE. Um, yeah. I now know that my bladder is not as strong as it was in first grade when jumping rope was the cool thing to do. TMI? Yes. But, we need to be honest here.
The next thing, after jumping rope with a too small rope? RUN for one mile. Outside. Up hill. In Nebraska. On November 30. I think it was maybe 25 or 35 degrees outside. Good thing I wore my husband's lounge pants (a part of starting to exercise is needing exercise clothes...I've long since tossed my jazzercise duds for 3 years ago...guess I need to get a few new items. see video)
Now, here is the thing...I am a southern girl, through and through. I sported an LSU tee shirt under my LSU 2007 National Champions sweat shirt. Being a southern girl, I do not sweat, I "glisten", and I do NOT like cold. I do NOT like hills (think Louisiana flatlands, here) either. So, forcing me to go OUTSIDE in subarctic temperatures to run a mile very first thing on the Monday after Thanksgiving, UPHILL...Not cool at all.
But, I did it. Well, I ran, I walked, I ran, I walked, I walked, I ran, I walked. I ditched Megan and Megan and felt bad, but really wanted to try to push myself. I did it in 10 1/2 minutes. And wanted to die at the end. Instead of dying on the street, we got to do these jumpy things on the curb, where you jump around (one good thing about small boobies, I guess...this didn't bother my girls too much) switching feet and hopping around while counting. Yuck.
We went inside and did a bunch of stuff that Megan remembers the names of...me, I remember thinking, "I wonder if there are any peanut butter chocolate chip cookies left at home?" and "This song on her c.d. is awful, Bart should make her a new c.d.." So, I can't tell you my stats from push ups and such (and I *may* have just estimated a little)...but I can tell you that I did 1 minute and 12 seconds inhell a 90 degree sitting but standing with my back against the gym wall position. Now that was just awful...Kudos to Lori for going over three minutes in that torturous pose.
So, Day one is over. I am alive...not too sore, but I haven't really started and I haven't really had time to get sore...I can only imagine what Wednesday will bring. I'm sure it gets worse before it gets better...but, maybe it WILL get better, you know? Maybe I can shave some time off my running (I have always dreamed of doing a mini marathon...true story, even though I don't like running), do a few more push ups and have a few less breaks. I'll let y'all know.
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Um, who forgot to tell my body that part?
See, here's my thing...it's that my "girls" are smaller then my belly, thus giving me the look of a woman about three months pregnant all the time. It is embarrassing to have complete strangers ask when the next one is due in line at the grocery store. Or have my three year old poke at my flab and laugh. While I argue that a boob job is WAY easier to handle then a fitness program, my husband does not agree. Maybe he is really just selfish, wanting extra money for lasik eye surgery and other un-necessaries...new bigger boobies and bras are WAY more important then being able to see without glasses. Seriously folks...wife trumps eyes, right?
So, I jumped on the Camelot Bootcamp Train, maybe I even helped kick start it a little bit.
On paper it sounds great, only $40, free childcare provided, 6 weeks.
Then, DAY ONE...the very first thing we have to do is JUMP ROPE. Um, yeah. I now know that my bladder is not as strong as it was in first grade when jumping rope was the cool thing to do. TMI? Yes. But, we need to be honest here.
The next thing, after jumping rope with a too small rope? RUN for one mile. Outside. Up hill. In Nebraska. On November 30. I think it was maybe 25 or 35 degrees outside. Good thing I wore my husband's lounge pants (a part of starting to exercise is needing exercise clothes...I've long since tossed my jazzercise duds for 3 years ago...guess I need to get a few new items. see video)
Now, here is the thing...I am a southern girl, through and through. I sported an LSU tee shirt under my LSU 2007 National Champions sweat shirt. Being a southern girl, I do not sweat, I "glisten", and I do NOT like cold. I do NOT like hills (think Louisiana flatlands, here) either. So, forcing me to go OUTSIDE in subarctic temperatures to run a mile very first thing on the Monday after Thanksgiving, UPHILL...Not cool at all.
But, I did it. Well, I ran, I walked, I ran, I walked, I walked, I ran, I walked. I ditched Megan and Megan and felt bad, but really wanted to try to push myself. I did it in 10 1/2 minutes. And wanted to die at the end. Instead of dying on the street, we got to do these jumpy things on the curb, where you jump around (one good thing about small boobies, I guess...this didn't bother my girls too much) switching feet and hopping around while counting. Yuck.
We went inside and did a bunch of stuff that Megan remembers the names of...me, I remember thinking, "I wonder if there are any peanut butter chocolate chip cookies left at home?" and "This song on her c.d. is awful, Bart should make her a new c.d.." So, I can't tell you my stats from push ups and such (and I *may* have just estimated a little)...but I can tell you that I did 1 minute and 12 seconds in
So, Day one is over. I am alive...not too sore, but I haven't really started and I haven't really had time to get sore...I can only imagine what Wednesday will bring. I'm sure it gets worse before it gets better...but, maybe it WILL get better, you know? Maybe I can shave some time off my running (I have always dreamed of doing a mini marathon...true story, even though I don't like running), do a few more push ups and have a few less breaks. I'll let y'all know.
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Boot Camp, Day 1-- Megan's Story.
I. Am. Fat. And out of shape. Wait... round is a shape, right??? Here's the skinny fat: A few friends from MOM and I joined a local fitness boot camp through a community center. I thought it was a BRILLIANT idea. Truly, I did. They offer childcare, boot camp is 2 days a week for 6 weeks, and it was only $40!
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I was clearly delirious. All the fat must have rushed to my brain, causing temporary insanity. For some reason, I had envisioned bootcamp to be easy. Maybe some jogging on a treadmill. I don't mind the treadmill. Or maybe some lunges or light weights.
There was running. I hate running. I don't understand runners. At all. There is nothing fun about it to me. Maybe if I was in shape I'd like it better? I don't enjoy lugging my fatness around, and feeling it jiggle all over the place. Talk about wind resistance.
So, today was day 1. I dropped fattycakes off in the daycare room, and bolted, because he didn't look back at me. When I got to the gym, we had to warm up by jumping rope for 1 minute. Not only was I out of breath by like 30 seconds, but I am SO uncoordinated. I kept tripping over the jump rope. I'm just glad I didn't fall. Maybe if I had, I could have skipped the run?
Then we were directed outside, to run a mile. Here is fatty mcbutterpants wearing a t shirt and capri exercise pants. It's Nebraska in November! Oh well, I figured the copious amount of sweat would keep me warm. We started out and Jess and Megan were with me. I did good. For about a minute, if even that. I was huffing and puffing like I was going to blow some little piggies house down! My muscles were cramping, I couldn't breathe... it was awful. Jess pulled ahead (go Jess!) and Megan stayed with me.
It was at this point that I was embarrassed, humiliated, ashamed and scared. Embarrassed that I could even run/jog for one minute. Humiliated as everyone else was running along, and still having conversation. Ashamed that I let myself get to this point. And scared that I wouldn't be able to make it to the end. Scared that I might have a heart attack and die. A little overly dramatic? Maybe. But it was a real eye opener.
Megan stayed with me the whole way. I felt really bad, because I'm sure she could have run that whole mile without stopping. But I will say it was really nice having somebody with me, encouraging me!
We got done (with my 12:28 mile. Yep, that's right.) and went back to the gym. We then had to do push ups, sit ups, a timed wall sit/press and tricep dips. I failed miserably at each:
Push ups: 5, on my toes (no knees down)
Sit ups: 3 (thank you, 11 pound baby for destroying all ab muscles)
Wall sit/press: 44 seconds
Tricep dips: 10
Then we did chariot races. This was actually my favorite part! One person ran in front, with a stretchy band around their waist, while the person behind held the band and tried to slow them down. I was out of breath, but it was fun!
I am being totally honest when I say that I wanted to give up. During that run, I just wanted to sit down and cry. Then climb in my car, and go right home. But, I didn't. I kept going, even though I had to walk when everyone else was running. I did it, even if it was slow. And I'll keep doing it, every week!
Jess and I will use this blog to co-post about our experience with boot camp. I hope you stick around for the ride!
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