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Boot Camp, Redux (only very small mention of fall shoes)

August 25, 2009

     So apparently I am a complete spaz (already sort of knew that with my stair challenges and the frequency with which walls/posts/my feet jump out and attack me) since I actually don’t know how to run. Yesterday we did speed training which is a fancy way of saying we ran a lot. We ran up hills, in relays, and with things around our waists while people tried to pull us back. It was lots and lots of running. As previously mentioned, I don’t run. So imagine my surprise when after only a week, I was quite quick at it. In my mind anyways, you runners out there would probably scoff-and then I might have to smack you upside the head with my new pair of knee-high, black suede, multiple silver buckles, and wedge heel boots (I said I would mention shoes). It seems that since I don’t know how to run, and as I’ve said it really has only ever been done in heels, I have not been running heel toe. Which makes my shins hurt, quite a lot actually. When running in heels, it is important to land on your toes, otherwise lovely heels might be damaged or, even worse, lost. The first time I lost a heel to a shoe, I was totally convinced I had been over-served by the bartender and therefore lacked the necessary resources to stand correctly. After that, and making my guy friend that was with me crawl the floor of the old Club Oxygen in search of my missing heel, I became much more careful about how I moved in them which is why I now have to learn how to run in a manner that doesn’t cause me intense pain in my shins. (But if I were running in heels at least my shoes would still be fabulous.)

     And honestly? If they really wanted me to work on speed training, all that’s really needed is a pair of heels and a crazy ex to chase me. Sort of the rabbit chasing the carrot type thing…but in reverse. Another tactic that shows real promise is for me to chase shiny things, expensive sunglasses, or a pair of Christian Louboutins. In my head I tell myself that even if I were a kajillionaire I wouldn’t spend that much on a single pair of shoes…but who are we kidding here? I think NOT being in heels throws off my balance…it took me years and lots of time in pjs, before I could wear ballet flats without feeling like I was falling backward. 9 million hours in four inch heels will do that to a girl. I did try to explain that I wasn’t so much interested in speed training. I was interested in no longer having parts that jiggle and, frankly, moving faster just makes things jiggle faster. I will not be at all surprised when I give myself a black eye with a flying breast.

     Another thing I had to learn how to do? Push-ups. You should have been here last week when my hubby attempted to teach bratchild and I the “correct” way to do push-ups. Since collapsing on the floor giggling and whining wasn’t it, he resorted to wrapping a towel around my midsection in an attempt to straighten me up and show me how it was supposed to work. Clifford clearly thought this was the most amusing thing he had ever seen.

     I actually haven’t injured myself in boot camp yet, which isn’t for lack of trying. The day we did arms last week I felt for sure was going to do me in. Pushups  on a concrete bench? I’m shocked I have teeth left. We also did back dip things on the aforementioned bench. I wasn’t as worried about those as I am completely used to falling on my ass. I think even Joe was surprised by my lack of coordination when we were using handled resistance bands over our heads and out of everyone in the class, I was the only one being smacked in the face (repeatedly) with the handles. Having to come and hold them out of the way prompted  a comment that alluded to something along the lines of not knowing how to fix me.

     I actually love boot camp, which shocked the hell out of me. And everyone who has EVER met me. The name alone caused me concern from the get go-boots are one of my most favorite things but camping is probably the utmost in torture to me.  So, as you can imagine, I was torn. Of course, in this case the combination of the two has nothing to do with boots OR camping and  really I’m just glad that no one is screaming at me and uniforms aren’t involved. I might have had to draw the line there. Tomorrow is friend day and nobody wanted to come. I still maintain that if I can get up and do this and actually ENJOY it, than anybody can. I mean, really, I spent years going to bed around the time I’m now getting up to exercise. And sweat. I’m still not thrilled with all the sweating, considering slathering deodorant over my entire body.

     But in all sincerity, it’s great and I can totally tell a difference in strength and stamina after just 7 classes. I am a little bummed that I haven’t immediately lost 10 pounds. I sort of was hoping that going from a state of inactivity to this would cause the pounds to just fly off me. I also swear I have something called body dysmorphic disorder. Except in my case it just happens to be backwards, I generally think I am thinner than I am. I did a fashion thing for the paper last year and when I was trying on outfits for it, the lady actually told me I look smaller than I am-I still don’t know if that was a compliment or not? Anhyhoo, I long ago decided that I didn’t weigh too much, I was just not tall enough. Having found no reliable way to stretch myself out another foot, I decided that perhaps exercise was a viable option.

     Bratchild, ever the encouraging munchkin, told me recently while I was trying on a dress that it was just a smidge too tight and perhaps boot camp would help. Bless her heart, I think she was trying to be sweet.

     And again, for those that keep asking me, you can find more info here: as it’s really rather hard for me to answer everyone who has asked me about it. Honestly? I’m planning on doing it again.

© Amy Lloyd Mayfield and Amy’s Blam, 2009. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Amy Lloyd Mayfield and Amy’s Blam with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
2 Comments leave one →
  1. Shawna permalink
    August 29, 2009 5:41 PM

    I, too, am a reverse anorexic. I think, man, I look great in this. Then see a picture, and immediately think, who is that fat girl? Until I delete the photo and revert to looking good again….

  2. December 1, 2009 9:33 AM

    AMY! You are cracking my shit up!

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