My first attempt at fitness boot camp

I like to describe myself as a healthy person. During the school year, I eat 2 – 3 small, but relatively healthy meals; and during breaks I eat various, tiny, healthy meals throughout the day. Every now and again my body craves intense amounts of tuna, and, for some reason, Chinese takeout; but even eventually the boyfriend learned that it’s important to make extra “bunny food,” as he calls it, for me when he makes dinner for us.

Let’s not pretend I’m a saint, though. I’m an absolute sucker for Coca-Cola. I’m quite certain I could still easily polish off an entire case of 12oz. cans, were I given the chance, but I know I’m no longer figure skating 3 times a week and conditioning 2 times a week on top of that. (Ah, to be young and have your parents pay for your talent… *sigh*) Still, at my age, a Coke is a Coke.

But I figured I was doing okay. I mean, I could hold my own on the ice; could make it through a 2-hour roller derby practice, no problem; carry more things than I probably should up and down 4 stories’-worth of stairs daily for work; and still maintain at 128lbs. – 135lbs. and between a size 4 – 6. Things weren’t so bad, right? RIGHT?!

Yeah. I think I got too comfortable. I decided to join a fitness bootcamp thinking, “Well, my boyfriend is getting back into shape, and I’ve been meaning to kick myself back into gear. If he can do it, I CAN DO IT!!!” I talked to one of my best friends, Lauren, who is constantly doing SOMETHING to push herself to the next limit, and she convinced me that it would be TOTALLY FUN. So, with the help of GroupOn, I found a hell of a deal of $48/2 months at Foundation Fitness near Georgetown.

I started my first session yesterday, thinking, “FUN TIMES AHEAD AT THE INDOOR GYM!! WOO-WOO!!” It was like everything that I hated about high school gym class. FOR AN HOUR. OUTSIDE. IN THE RAIN. Running. Push-ups. Crunches… The list goes on. It was my own personal nightmare, only I paid for it. I ended up not giving a crap about the rain when the push-ups came into the game. Not even when I was a nationally competing figure skater could I do a single pull-up, nor a set of push-ups properly. I’ve always had the upper body strength equivalent to that of a wet noodle. It’s really sad. I actually was thankful when kind, sweet Alex was like, “Okay! Time for crunches! :D” Then planks happened. By the end of the whole hour, I just wanted the whole thing to be jogging. Sure, I probably would’ve fainted thanks to the asthma I keep on pretending I don’t have (THANKS A LOT, ADORABLE PETS OF MINE WITH ALL OF YOUR DANDER!!!!!!), but it probably wouldn’t have hurt as much.

As I sit here and type this, I can’t help but wish I would’ve just kept on doing some basic exercises after I decided to quit skating all of those years ago. I mean, eating healthy has never been difficult for me, and was easier after being a part of a Co-Op at Oberlin; but, after yesterday, it’s super clear to me that no amount of healthy eating will ever replace the ass-kicking of a work-out.


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