Surviving Fitness Boot Camp: A Satire

I know fitness is the new trend right now, everyone is juicing, paleo-ing, waist-training, tea-toxing, beach body-ing, and the list goes on. And on. Personally, I am often trapped between carbohydrates as the evil arch-enemy and stuffing my face with a pizza the size of Texas. I am somewhat active and greatly prefer long walks/runs and home workouts to any formal gym sessions.

This weekend my best friend Beth invited me to attend a boot camp fitness class at a local facility in Portland. Ah, the term boot camp, so accurate and appropriate, conjuring up visions of military-type training: the drill sergeant barking continual commands even with the sound of pleas for mercy.

With swimsuit season looming like a dark cloud over my carpe diem approach to eating, I decided I probably should try it out. This lady loves to brunch, what can I say? With an affirmative “yes” via text, I decided to join Beth for a morning of exercise. I put on my best Lululemon garb and I was ready!

Processed with VSCO with f1 preset

I arrived, signed in, then took my place near Beth. Soon the class began with a loud blare of music which shifted effortlessly from “Eye of The Tiger” to 50 Cent’s “In Da Club.” I knew I was in for it, like a naughty child waiting to be reprimanded. I teetered on the precipice of pain.

The class was led by a petite woman, with headset firmly in place, she was ready to bring to the wrath. Twenty people or so filled the small open room, following every assigned motion she commanded. Sigh, the joy of group workouts, where you try desperately not to look stupid or lazy. Let’s just say I failed at both!

For one full hour I managed to keep up and not hurt myself. Friends, it’s all fun and games until you take a kettle bell to the face! The morning’s workout used every single muscle in my entire body, I know now why I don’t workout in this way. My poor twig arms were almost ready to snap at the third set of medicine ball throws. I prayed to every God I could think of to make it be over.

After sixty minutes of intense exercise, just like that, we were free to go – as if birds from a cage, we were released to the wind. And like any self-respecting/rational human, I promptly rewarded myself for a job well done with a 1,200 calorie brunch at Local188.

4 thoughts on “Surviving Fitness Boot Camp: A Satire

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s