The End of the Beginning
The last day of the Boot Camp Weight loss challenge was today. I have to admit to happiness with my accomplishments (14.5 inches lost and 10 lbs lost), but a great deal of sadness, because despite hating to work out, I really like boot camp. If that makes any sense. I mean, if it were up to me, I would never work out, really. It doesn't make me feel so great that I can't live without it, and if there was a way to get around it, I would. But I can't, so I won't, I hope.
And, like I have said before, I love chili cheese nachos, beer, and I really, really, really love pizza, like I could eat it every single day kind of love. I really could. YUM. I don't like vegetables, except celery. Not really. I eat them. I make myself. And, I tell my kids, I don't like this but I know it is good for me, and so I eat it. I hope that will make some impression on them that food is not just about taste, but about fuel, and about health. But, me a vegetarian, never.
But back to boot camp, I have tried other forms of exercise, and not being a dancer, or a person with even mediocre coordination, I don't like most of them. But, being "an athlete" there was something about boot camp that I got. Pushing yourself is not something I am especially good at when left to my own doing, but when someone is timing me for 1 minute and I have 15 seconds left, no matter how tired I am, I can bust it out for 15 seconds. Usually.
So, while being "athletic", I have never been strong. NEVER have I been able to do real push-ups. I have always had skinny arms. At times in my life, I have been called Olive Oil and deserved the name. And, like I said, boys in high school told me I looked like a praying mantis. Skinny arms. So, when the boot camp people asked what our goal was I said to get stronger. Because, sure I would love to lose 20 lbs, but really in my life, I just wanted to feel strong. To still be able to pick up my 7-year-old, to run up the stairs without getting winded, to play a pick of game of basketball with my kids without having to take breaks, and to just feel a strength (physically) within myself.
So, my friend asked me to go to boot camp with her. We both thought it sounded radical, but like the kick start we needed to get off of facebook and on with our lives. And so we went. I was so worried about it I barely slept the night before. I had heard tales of throwing up, horrid exercise, called Burpies...tire flipping, sled pushing, push up doing....it all had me a bit worked up! But I went. And I liked it. And I was sore. So so so so so sore. For at least the first two weeks, I was so so so very sore. My joints hurt, my muscles hurt, and I have a fair assumption I know what it feels like to wake up in the morning when you are 85. But in time, it got better, and I was sore, but kind of good sore. Sore that went away a day, not a week, later.
The first day of boot camp, I thought wow. After the warm-up, I was ready to go home. I thought to myself, that is more exercising that I have done in a long time. But I continued, and I was amazed at my body's response. The first day I could flip the tire 11 times, at the end, 19. On the first day, I could do 11 sit-ups with a 10 lb kettlebell weight, at the end I could do 26-28 ...and so on. I didn't see a lot of weight loss initially, but I did feel a lot less movement from the backside, so I can only assume that was fat being replaced with muscle. Also, the less jiggling, the easier the exercises became, and the more I could do.
And, that is when I started to feel like me again. There would be some days that I was working out, and it felt like the 16-year old that is buried somewhere deep within me started to work my legs. There were other days where the 40-year old who just ate a bacon cheeseburger at Ted's was surely at the helm, but in between were glimpses of what at least felt like glory. What felt like the me I remember being. Before moving to GA and being riddled with years and years of nearly debilitating sinus and allergy issues, before kids, before it all, when I was just me. It was then that I actually realized that I had sort of lost myself in the shuffle of it all. I am so glad I am back!
Oh, and I can do push-ups now. Real ones. They may not be pretty, and I may not get down as far as I should, or as far as the coach would like, but I can do them. Even 10 in a row, sometimes. And, if that was all I had accomplished in boot camp, I think I would have called it a success.
And, like I have said before, I love chili cheese nachos, beer, and I really, really, really love pizza, like I could eat it every single day kind of love. I really could. YUM. I don't like vegetables, except celery. Not really. I eat them. I make myself. And, I tell my kids, I don't like this but I know it is good for me, and so I eat it. I hope that will make some impression on them that food is not just about taste, but about fuel, and about health. But, me a vegetarian, never.
But back to boot camp, I have tried other forms of exercise, and not being a dancer, or a person with even mediocre coordination, I don't like most of them. But, being "an athlete" there was something about boot camp that I got. Pushing yourself is not something I am especially good at when left to my own doing, but when someone is timing me for 1 minute and I have 15 seconds left, no matter how tired I am, I can bust it out for 15 seconds. Usually.
So, while being "athletic", I have never been strong. NEVER have I been able to do real push-ups. I have always had skinny arms. At times in my life, I have been called Olive Oil and deserved the name. And, like I said, boys in high school told me I looked like a praying mantis. Skinny arms. So, when the boot camp people asked what our goal was I said to get stronger. Because, sure I would love to lose 20 lbs, but really in my life, I just wanted to feel strong. To still be able to pick up my 7-year-old, to run up the stairs without getting winded, to play a pick of game of basketball with my kids without having to take breaks, and to just feel a strength (physically) within myself.
So, my friend asked me to go to boot camp with her. We both thought it sounded radical, but like the kick start we needed to get off of facebook and on with our lives. And so we went. I was so worried about it I barely slept the night before. I had heard tales of throwing up, horrid exercise, called Burpies...tire flipping, sled pushing, push up doing....it all had me a bit worked up! But I went. And I liked it. And I was sore. So so so so so sore. For at least the first two weeks, I was so so so very sore. My joints hurt, my muscles hurt, and I have a fair assumption I know what it feels like to wake up in the morning when you are 85. But in time, it got better, and I was sore, but kind of good sore. Sore that went away a day, not a week, later.
The first day of boot camp, I thought wow. After the warm-up, I was ready to go home. I thought to myself, that is more exercising that I have done in a long time. But I continued, and I was amazed at my body's response. The first day I could flip the tire 11 times, at the end, 19. On the first day, I could do 11 sit-ups with a 10 lb kettlebell weight, at the end I could do 26-28 ...and so on. I didn't see a lot of weight loss initially, but I did feel a lot less movement from the backside, so I can only assume that was fat being replaced with muscle. Also, the less jiggling, the easier the exercises became, and the more I could do.
And, that is when I started to feel like me again. There would be some days that I was working out, and it felt like the 16-year old that is buried somewhere deep within me started to work my legs. There were other days where the 40-year old who just ate a bacon cheeseburger at Ted's was surely at the helm, but in between were glimpses of what at least felt like glory. What felt like the me I remember being. Before moving to GA and being riddled with years and years of nearly debilitating sinus and allergy issues, before kids, before it all, when I was just me. It was then that I actually realized that I had sort of lost myself in the shuffle of it all. I am so glad I am back!
Oh, and I can do push-ups now. Real ones. They may not be pretty, and I may not get down as far as I should, or as far as the coach would like, but I can do them. Even 10 in a row, sometimes. And, if that was all I had accomplished in boot camp, I think I would have called it a success.
What a great post! And congratulations on a significant weight loss. I'm jealous (as I sit here eating cinnamon-sugar toast with coffee!) I've just returned from a writer's retreat in Arden, NC. We were treated to endless meals of fine southern cooking that left me running for my Prilosec! lol This is a great blog. I will connect it to my website for anyone wanting to read a blog that is real and humorous. I'll put the link on: barbaraweitz.com
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