Holy shit, kids. I got WORKED this morning.
The lovely Em, proprietor of Joe's Used Toy Emporium (see sidebar), posted a blanket invitation this week to all of her readers to be her guest at Bring a Friend to Boot Camp day. I accepted.
For the uninitiated, which no longer includes me, Boot Camp is a fitness program that involves waking up long before the rest of the world and getting your ass kicked by a group of highly motivated instructors who all appear to be just getting warmed up for their real workout once they send your weak, dragging ass home for the day. And people pay a substantial fee for this privilege.
So I found myself, at 5:50 a.m., jogging from the apartment towards World's Fair Park about a mile and a half away, because who wouldn't want to run a quick mile and a half right before something called "boot camp?" How tough could it be?
Let me just say: Fuck those fucking orange cones. I'll explain:
We started off with a warm-up that involved a slow jog interspersed with some stairs and some 45-degree push-ups and some other random movements just to get things moving. Then we came to the cones of death, three stations set up in a field that would host some deceptively simple but horrifyingly relentless exercises. For about the next 45 minutes, split into three groups, we would rotate from cone to cone, sprinting or skipping or hopping en route, doing push-ups, sit-ups, crunches, lunges, leg raises, and all kinds of other means of torture, whatever the cone demanded...non-fucking-stop. Not a single one of those damn cones was labeled "breathe."
Now, I'm in pretty good shape. I run regularly and have been known to climb a mountain or two, but that all takes place below the waist for the most part. Right now, thanks to the wicked thrashing courtesy of Boot Camp, my arms feel like wet noodles. Rather hairy wet noodles, but wet noodles nonetheless. Worthless. And I'm really looking forward to the way my abs are going to feel in the morning. Pain.
My legs are okay, for now. I did manage most of the run home without stopping and just enough time to shower and grab some food to take to work.
Boot Camp was cool, though. The best part was laying in the wet grass working really hard, to the point of failure even, while watching the daylight slowly growing and reflecting off the buildings downtown. I'd do it again. I doubt I can afford it, but otherwise I'd do it again.
It was also the first time I've ever met one of you people from the internets. I'd always imagined I'd one day meet a fellow blogger over drinks or some food, but not pre-dawn calisthenics that make me want to puke. So thanks, Em, for the early-morning ass-kicking. We'll have to get together for drinks some time.