I'm ten times slower than the fastest man alive. According to the Presidential Fitness Test, I'm about as fit as a seven-year old. Though, I can tell you, after Day 1 of a Fitness Boot Camp, I feel about seventy. Once again, my body aches. My feet are swollen, my back is sore and my stomach just plain hurts.
Why am I doing this to myself again? I have to admit I was feeling pretty good about myself. After Bikini Bootcamp in January, I kept up the exercise, tried to limit my alcohol intake and went from a 12 to a 10 pretty quickly. I am also up to an hour on the bike, can make it thru a Zumba class without wanting to throw up, and am walking everywhere (8.2 miles on Sunday).
So, with my 41st birthday fast approaching, I thought it would be a good idea to take it up a notch. How hard could this be, right?
Wrong. Nowhere on the course description did it mention running. I'm not a runner, at all. No where did it mention doing push-ups face down into the mud. Ugh.
So why stick with it? Well, I'm not even sure they are going to let me stay in this class. About 40 or so people signed up for this bootcamp and I'm, by far, the least physically fit. Mostly it is made up of buff, fit, and competitive men. At this moment, I'm just waiting for them to email me and tell me they are refunding my money.
But if they don't, it's important to finish. Finishing things has been a major theme of the past seven months. I can't quit and just walk away, as much as I would love to.
It's also important to get fit. Somehow, from somewhere, 30 pounds of fat snuck up on me and attached itself to my ass. This isn't good. For so many reasons. If the end of the world came tomorrow, I would probably get eaten by the aliens or crushed by a falling building (since I wouldn't be able to run away fast enough). I'm also 41 and single, again.
As I said to a friend of my yesterday, "have you seen the competition?" DC is filled with fabulously smart, interesting, driven women. Many of who also happen to be young and fit. If I have any chance of meeting a man that is equally as smart, interesting and driven as I am, I better get my ass back on that treadmill every day.
It's depressing to think that after more than two decades of not caring what I look like and being more focused on having a healthy mind and wit than fitting into a certain size, I find myself thinking about food and exercise in the same way I did as a teenager. The calorie counts, the exercise, the feeling bad if something doesn't fit. It's all back.
The only positive is that this time, I do have much more confidence in my ability to change it. I don't get as easily discouraged. I have the money, the time, the friends, to make it all work.
So regardless of whether or not the trainers kick me out of the class, I'm in this to improve those numbers. I only want to be 5 or 6 times slower than the fastest man alive. I would like to be able to do more push-ups than a 17-year old and more sit ups than a 22 year-old. I would like to be able to outrun the aliens when they come.
March Update on Consume less. Save Some. Give More.
Many of you have asked, and thank you for that, about my pledge to live more frugally. In January I bought a cork board, in February a fantastic (yet ridiculously expensive) bag. In March, nothing. Now I bought groceries, shampoo, went to the dry cleaner and downloaded $46.98 worth of music and bought two books. But I didn't buy any shoes, handbags, dresses, shirts, furniture, knick knacks, or anything that I wanted. Part of it, I think, was the awful weather in March. Who wants to shop when it is cold and rainy and gross out. Not me. April will be harder. It is my birthday month and who doesn't need a new dress on their birthday? Then the J Crew and Anthropologie catalogs came. So many cute things. I also have a big conference and a need for resort wear, or so I think. So stay tuned. April is going to be a bitch.
