I'm sure you probably are thinking, "How can she ramble on about getting to boot camp? Don't you just get in the car and go?" Well, that's what you get for thinking. It is very involved, especially for people in my condition - old, out of shape, and overweight. It requires a lot of preparation - mental, physical, emotional, financial, spiritual, and geographical (it takes a lot of effort to move large heavenly bodies through space). So, here is your primer on getting to boot camp. Once you have digested all the information, I fully expect you to use your new-found education to become one of my boot-ies.First you have to know that such an institution exists. I had read about boot camp in The Tennessean, but like you, thought that while it was a good idea, it was certainly not a good idea for me. Instead I enrolled in a ladies-only exercise place - we'll call it "Bends in the Road." I did as instructed and really thought I was getting a workout - I was a bit delusional as I would soon find out. Many moons later I got an email from Maribeth suggesting we do boot camp together. Still delusional, I agreed and we signed up - first for three days, then later signing up for all five days. After getting measured and weighed in our pre-camp orientation (the results of which I can only hope have spontaneously combusted), we were on our way.
Next, we had to procure our equipment. We needed weights - two 5-pounders and two 8-pounders. Apparently the extra poundage I was carrying around in my butt cheeks wasn't enough. We also needed a mat, which I thought would be for the naps we would take in between exercises. Of course later I learned it would be for attempting to locate my abdominal muscles that Ike seems to think still exist in my body. We would also need a flask for drinking - well, at least something like it - for when we sweated off the water in our bodies. And finally, in direct relation to the sweating, we would need a sop cloth to keep our bodily secretions from warping the gym floor.
Of course, there is the obligatory exercise outfit. For me, it consists of (a) locating a t-shirt large enough to cover my mid-section, (b) capris (and later during the Nashville heat wave, shorts made by Nashville Tent and Awning), (c) running shoes (or in my case, waddling shoes), (d) ankle supports (which became necessary after my ankles staged several protests by twisting and landing me on the floor), and (e) my bondi-band headband (to give my sop cloth relief from my head sweat). So, being fully equipped and dressed, I was ready to go. Here's where the REAL effort starts.
My alarm goes off at 5AM. I am not a morning person, so 5AM seems obscene. I manage to get out of bed and find my way to the kitchen where I get my pre-butt camp meal. It is a granola square thing with peanut butter on it, followed by a few chugs of flavored water. I usually check my email to see if there is some holiday and butt camp has been cancelled, which has never happened - but hope springs eternal.
By this time, some of my body parts have decided to wake up and start complaining. It's always a treat to see which part is going to revolt. For awhile it was my ankles, but then I got the ankle supports. For awhile it was my knees, but they've been quiet lately. A few weeks ago, it was my left hip, which decided to go wonky. I sort of looked like Chester from Gunsmoke (if you're too young to understand that reference, you're young enough to understand google and youtube). These days, it's my wrists who hate me. I don't know if Arthur Ritis has moved in or what, but they are not happy when I attempt my push-ups (then again, who is?). Anyhoo, I attempt to placate my body parts, get into my butt camp togs, fill my flask with flavored water, and shovel myself into the car.
I keep waiting for snow to start and ice the streets, making driving dangerous, but so far this summer - no luck. I drive the five minutes to boot camp, usually managing to arrive on time. My good attitude arrives a little later.
The 30 minutes between getting up and arriving at butt camp are the worst - really. I'm usually arguing with myself about how I would rather be in bed and how I'm not going to be able to do anything without passing out or throwing up, or a combo of both. Thankfully, there is a still small voice inside me that says, "Go and do something- it's better than nothing." So far, that still small voice is winning, because at the end of the session, I'm glad I went. Maybe I didn't do it all like my fellow boot-ies, maybe I was last in every run, maybe I still haven't found those abs, but I did something. And for that session, something is worth celebrating because something always will get results over nothing.
So that's how I got (and get) to butt camp. Tomorrow - Part Tray - "Whutchu Talkin' Bout, Ike?"
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Today's blessings: beautiful breezy day; outdoors butt camp; picking up Sam at the airport and hearing about his trip; trim and paint dudes at Molly's; ordering surprises for baby girls
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