What Doesn't Kill You Makes You Stronger...

For some bizarre reason, I still cannot sleep well the night before boot camp. I wake up frequently to check the clock, and I woke up before my alarm AGAIN. Heck, I made it out the door before the flipping paper was delivered. Seriously? I mean, it is one thing to beat the sun...but the paper? Okay, so I get in the car and STRONGER by Kelly Clarkson is on. I'm pretty sure Shelley snuck in my car on Monday night to adjust the radio. Get this- it is following by "Work it, Make it, Do it"....Yep! STRONGER by Kanye West. Yes, God. I get the message.

I was on my own for this boot camp, and I was so nervous. I mean, I suck at being social with strangers. I really suck when it is 5 am and the setting is a gym with strangers who are exercising. I am so very thankful for this boot camp lady that I don't know, but she always talks to me...so I felt better. Let's be honest- not a soul cares about that- y'all just care about if I die or not.

So today is the "beep test". I will be renaming it the bleeping bleepety bleep test. We line up on one side of the gym and listen to this psycho male voice explain the directions. "You will be listening to a series of beeps. After each beep you will race to cross the line before the next beep. You will start this at a brisk walk..." (LIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!). Basically, you are trying to beat the beeps, which get faster and faster and faster. The dude who got the most beeps managed to cross the gym 111 times. The person with the least beeps got 12. Yep- ME.  I was huffing and puffing like the big bad wolf, bent over, just trying to prevent a heart attack...oh- and not cry. I really wanted to cry, but I thought asking for my mommy in boot camp was uncool.

This, my friends, is the moment that I decided that I loved Shelley. I mean, I love her almost as much as Zoe's chocolate cake...she VERY casually walks over to where I am dying and says, "You ok?" I manage to get out a "yea" and she asks if I'm sure. It was so calm and cool. At that moment, I knew that she was a teacher. A for real teacher. Yes, she is going to bust my...butt, she is going to push and challenge me. However, at the end of the day, she wants me to succeed and probably not have a heart attack in her class. She cared, and that meant a lot. It would probably be best if we didn't tell her I feel this way, because she might bust my butt more.

The benefit to running 99 beeps less than the "winner" is that you get some cool off time. Thank goodness! I was able to regain my composure, put my heart back in my chest, and keep the vomit politely placed in my stomach. Don't worry- it didn't last long. We then went into some "floor exercises"- jumping jacks, push ups, mountain climbers, crunches, the bicycle thingy, high knee run (I like to call this the russian soldier- because that's what I look like during this exercise). I cannot even remember the others. This is what I do remember- my wrists and hands hurt soooo bad from holding my fat butt up during push-ups and planks. My back/shoulder something muscles still hurt.

The "grand" finale was a BURPEE. Okay. Does anyone know what this is? If so, you are already laughing at the mental picture of me trying it. I think this is how it goes- you start standing up, then you somehow get down to do a pushup, then you jump back up and throw your hands in the air....then you start over. Me? I start standing, very slowly get down so I don't break a wrist or ankle, do a push-up(ish), bring one leg in, then the other leg, stumble to stand, and throw my hands in the air to praise Jesus that I can stand. Seriously. This would win the grand championship of America's Funniest Home Video. It is like watching a baby try to stand for the first time.

Woohoo! We're done. I'm walking out, so thankful that I survived and I hear a girl say, "I'm going to have to work out extra because I ate two peanut butter eggs." I'm totally grossed out. I said, "peanut butter eggs?" (I said it like she announced she ate dog sh*t for breakfast, folks). DUH!!! Then I realized she was talking about the yummy chocolate goodness of a Reese's peanut butter egg. My dumb self thought she was talking about chicken eggs and peanut butter together. Holy cow! Can you tell I haven't had candy in a while? I was so embarrassed, and you know she thought I was stupid. Her mind was wondering how the fat chick didn't know about peanut butter candy. Oh well.

I made a deal to try Body Attack tomorrow morning...in like T minus 8 hours. Let's hope I survive that. At least I get extra calories for bunco tomorrow night.