Here’s a little tip: Don’t go to Sonic to pick up food for your family before you have boot camp. It smells too good and your willpower will fade while you are ordering for everyone but you. And, really, don’t inhale a cheeseburger, tater tots, and a vanilla coke minutes before your friends pick you up for boot camp.
Realistically, I probably should’ve stayed at home, especially after that burger, but Blondie and I went on a weekend retreat and I ate like there was a famine coming.
While we were gone, I received texts from hubby. Not wonderful love notes letting me know how much my family missed and loved me. No, just texts letting me know that my family was dropping like flies from the flu. I had left Friday with only one child down, by Friday night, hubby was down; Saturday night, little T was down. I soooo didn’t want to be next and asked if maybe we should just quarantine them and I should stay at the resort. No one agreed with my solution, so I went home on Sunday.
By Monday’s boot camp, I was ready to go run off the germs and scrumptious desserts. So, off I went, breathing like a 90-year-old emphysema patient with a cigarette. I didn’t care that I couldn’t breathe, I had weight to lose and germs to run from.
So off I went, filled up on germs, fast food, and fluid in my lungs. I was shocked to find out that I couldn’t make it through boot camp. I even had an asthma attack while I was there trying to run my hiney off, or maybe that was just my cheeseburger stuck in my throat – who could be sure?
After Drill Sergeant starting off yelling for me to get on the hop, and me telling him that there was too much hopping going on (without my usual zeal), he began to realize that I wasn’t just being my normal pain in the ass self – I was being an extra large pain in the ass and a whiney one at that.
Brownie and I were doing the hop scotch thing and I told him that the cones were too high. He told me that cones couldn’t take drugs so that was impossible. I looked at him with daggers and repeated that I was short and that they were too high. They were high too, because while I was walking/stomping through the obstacle course of hop scotch, he pulled me aside and told me he was concerned. Meanwhile, Brownie hopped but didn’t scotch and went down in the mud on her pretty face. She was whining in the background trying to get our attention wanting to know if anyone was concerned about her. Obviously, we weren’t. Drill Sergeant knows who the princess is.
After the hop scotch debacle, Brownie and I went on to the arm press, leg lift thing that has had me in traction for the past two days (which is why I’m late in posting). Then we did some weird oblique things. But, the best thing was the spider, because I was the only one who could maneuver on the bars backwards and forwards. It was beautiful, because while Brownie and I were giving the obliques our half-hearted attempt, we got to see Blondie up there asking at the top of her little voice, “Why is this called spider?!” She was spread eagle on these bars that are like uneven bars with her butt up in the air. She totally looked like a spider – a stuck one.
Oh, and, Blondie was already not talking to us. Brownie and I had paired up the first week. So on Monday, Blondie’s partner from the first week jumped on her like Blondie had started playing for the other team – you know, like white on rice, like a flea on a tick - you get the picture. We tried asking her when we all paired up after instructions if she wanted to be with one of us, but she just gave us dirty looks and walked away with her lip curled up. I think she might have been upset.
I’m sure she’ll get over it and pick me up today if for no other reason than to watch Drill Sergeant torture me.
Showing posts with label boot camp. Show all posts
Showing posts with label boot camp. Show all posts
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Monday, January 10, 2011
Diary of a Wimpy Mom – Yes, I’m back.
Obviously, I haven’t posted in awhile. Well, it’s because I totally wimped out on those girls. Brownie and Blondie stuck with it and, of course, that’s when all the good stuff happened! But, once school started, I didn’t care if I got as big as a tent, there wasn’t any way I was rolling my ass out of bed at 5 a.m. for anything – not even a $1 sale at Neiman Marcus! Okay, well maybe if it was in the shoe department. But, especially not to flip 18 wheeler tires through the mud. I mean it takes effort to look this good and that extra hour of beauty sleep takes me from an 8 to a 10 baby!
So, while I was getting my beauty rest and workin’ up to that 10, that’s when this guy decides to die in the parking lot in his car to be found by my girls and the rest of the people who want to be skinny. I mean how fun of a post would that have been right? How cool is that to find a dead guy, right? I mean why couldn’t he be considerate enough to die earlier when I could’ve found him?
Oh well, it turns out, he was just a REALLY heavy sleeper because all of the tapping that turned to banging that those boot campers did he just slept right through. He finally woke up when the cops got there, so it was all good.
And, as it turns out, when you ditch boot camp in favor of more sleeping in, other things start creeping up to a 10. Someone who has a small frame and is barely 5 feet tall, really shouldn’t be in the double digits, you know what I mean? So, here I am again – flipping tires in the mud.
But, it sure isn’t at 5:30 in the morning. Oh, no! I convinced Blondie and Brownie that they needed my witty comments to keep things lively and the only way to get it was to sign up for the evening class. They totally bought it – suckers!
So Brownie and I were up there in the drizzling rain in 40 degree temperatures ready to melt that fat away. Yes, Blondie wimped out on the first class – she said “I ain’t into all of that measuring crap. I don’t need to weigh in!”
I have to confess, I’m not sure anything melted because everything was frozen - even the mud seemed frozen. It was so friggin’ cold. I do think my butt froze up and fell off on that 1 mile test run though – so that’s a plus!
Of course, Drill Sergeant was SOOO excited to have us back. (Brownie and Blondie had actually bailed on him too during the last six week session.)
I don’t remember if I mentioned this before, but when we start a new session, we have to measure, weigh, and do a fitness test. So, Brownie was busy with her push-ups, and these aren’t girlie push-ups on your knees – oh, no, these are full-on push-ups with your legs straight and your nose touching the ground, but not your tummy. (I’ve tried that, but he said, “oh no Pebbles, I don’t think so.” He doesn’t know that my friends call me Princess, so he just calls me Pebbles.) So, she is going at these push-up things - up, down, up, down - just burnin’ up those muscles, and then she starts getting tired. But, she’s gotten me so into it that I’m cheering her on. So I say, “Hercules, Hercules! Keep it going girl, you can do it!” you know Eddie Murphy style, because I’m trying to encourage my girl to keep going. But all of the other boot campers start laughing so Drill Sergeant has to explain his peanut gallery to all of the newbies.
But, they didn’t realize that I was doing them a favor because after our fitness test (and you would think that we would’ve remembered this by now) we had to go and do it all over again and do the same number of reps when we were bustin’ a gut to do all of those sit-ups, push-ups and pull-ups during the test.
Oh, well! Some people never learn. I guess that’s why the wimpy mom is back in boot camp. I wonder if they have a remedial boot camp?
So, while I was getting my beauty rest and workin’ up to that 10, that’s when this guy decides to die in the parking lot in his car to be found by my girls and the rest of the people who want to be skinny. I mean how fun of a post would that have been right? How cool is that to find a dead guy, right? I mean why couldn’t he be considerate enough to die earlier when I could’ve found him?
Oh well, it turns out, he was just a REALLY heavy sleeper because all of the tapping that turned to banging that those boot campers did he just slept right through. He finally woke up when the cops got there, so it was all good.
And, as it turns out, when you ditch boot camp in favor of more sleeping in, other things start creeping up to a 10. Someone who has a small frame and is barely 5 feet tall, really shouldn’t be in the double digits, you know what I mean? So, here I am again – flipping tires in the mud.
But, it sure isn’t at 5:30 in the morning. Oh, no! I convinced Blondie and Brownie that they needed my witty comments to keep things lively and the only way to get it was to sign up for the evening class. They totally bought it – suckers!
So Brownie and I were up there in the drizzling rain in 40 degree temperatures ready to melt that fat away. Yes, Blondie wimped out on the first class – she said “I ain’t into all of that measuring crap. I don’t need to weigh in!”
I have to confess, I’m not sure anything melted because everything was frozen - even the mud seemed frozen. It was so friggin’ cold. I do think my butt froze up and fell off on that 1 mile test run though – so that’s a plus!
Of course, Drill Sergeant was SOOO excited to have us back. (Brownie and Blondie had actually bailed on him too during the last six week session.)
I don’t remember if I mentioned this before, but when we start a new session, we have to measure, weigh, and do a fitness test. So, Brownie was busy with her push-ups, and these aren’t girlie push-ups on your knees – oh, no, these are full-on push-ups with your legs straight and your nose touching the ground, but not your tummy. (I’ve tried that, but he said, “oh no Pebbles, I don’t think so.” He doesn’t know that my friends call me Princess, so he just calls me Pebbles.) So, she is going at these push-up things - up, down, up, down - just burnin’ up those muscles, and then she starts getting tired. But, she’s gotten me so into it that I’m cheering her on. So I say, “Hercules, Hercules! Keep it going girl, you can do it!” you know Eddie Murphy style, because I’m trying to encourage my girl to keep going. But all of the other boot campers start laughing so Drill Sergeant has to explain his peanut gallery to all of the newbies.
But, they didn’t realize that I was doing them a favor because after our fitness test (and you would think that we would’ve remembered this by now) we had to go and do it all over again and do the same number of reps when we were bustin’ a gut to do all of those sit-ups, push-ups and pull-ups during the test.
Oh, well! Some people never learn. I guess that’s why the wimpy mom is back in boot camp. I wonder if they have a remedial boot camp?
Monday, July 5, 2010
Make-up boot camp
We had make-up boot camp today. The four of us cannot make our normal Thursday morning boot camp, so I worked out a deal with Drill Sergeant to kick our butts on another day. Well, we dropped like flies and it was just me and Brownie in the end. Blondie just had to go to Destin with her family. I think she wanted to beat the oil there. And, Sucker texted me in the middle of the night on the Fourth of July to tell me that they had decided to go out of town and she needed to pack. Whatever, she just drank too much.
Make-up boot camp is a bit like make-up sex minus the happy ending. It goes on forever; it makes you really sweaty; and you near heart-attack status.
It is boot-camp eve and I have to get up at 4:45 in the morning to go pick up Brownie so that Drill Sergeant can hear us beg for mercy tomorrow. We had a birthday party at a water park tonight and my oldest is having a sleepover. As soon as we get home, my lovely husband informs me that he’s going to watch the Yankee game. Excuse me? What part of, I have to get up before the dawn even thinks about cracking and we have people sleeping over did you not understand? Oh, he is so sleeping on the couch tonight (or the guest bedroom, whatever), and I’m having some yummy ice cream. I don’t care what Drill Sergeant says.
Make-up boot camp is a bit like make-up sex minus the happy ending. It goes on forever; it makes you really sweaty; and you near heart-attack status.
It is boot-camp eve and I have to get up at 4:45 in the morning to go pick up Brownie so that Drill Sergeant can hear us beg for mercy tomorrow. We had a birthday party at a water park tonight and my oldest is having a sleepover. As soon as we get home, my lovely husband informs me that he’s going to watch the Yankee game. Excuse me? What part of, I have to get up before the dawn even thinks about cracking and we have people sleeping over did you not understand? Oh, he is so sleeping on the couch tonight (or the guest bedroom, whatever), and I’m having some yummy ice cream. I don’t care what Drill Sergeant says.
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Diary of a Wimpy Mom
Boot camp: Week "too long"
Ok, so I’m totally rockin’ these cute white shorts after our excruciating boot camp this morning. I’m home trying to let the dog out to go to the bathroom and get to my hair appointment across town on time. (I may have been late to everything including my own wedding, but I am NEVER late to a hair appointment – it’s important business.) And, let me just tell you, a big black Bernese Mountain Dog and white shorts DO NOT mix. Hello! Does he have to show his affection all over my shorts and Pliner shoes?!! I could do with a little less affection thank you very much.
So, this week Hurricane Alex, or Adam or whatever, is wreaking havoc on our little outdoor boot camp so we’ve had to move our little butts (yes, they are getting smaller) inside as to not damage the fields. No, Drill Sergeant is so not concerned about our hair getting frizzy – it’s the field damage that is disconcerting. So, we are in an air-conditioned (I know, poor us) room that’s normally used for Zoomba, karate, etc. with mirrors everywhere. I mean really, do you think I want to look at myself at 5:30 in the morning? Um, no – my hair isn’t done, I have no make-up on and I haven’t showered, because really what’s the point? (Shut-up! No comments from the peanut gallery about my lack of showering.)
So, this is what I want you to do: Stand on one leg, put the other leg straight behind you. Put one hand behind your back and the other just barely on a chair for balance (if you need it). Now, bend the leg you are standing on – shoulders back, chin up. Now, stay there for 5 minutes. Feel that? That is your ass and that fleshy part of your thigh with all of those dimples that is melting off. You can thank me later. Blondie, Brownie, Sucker and I did it, so you can too.
Okay, so maybe we whined a bit and let our foot down when Drill Sergeant wasn’t looking. But, when you only have two rows of people and all of those damn mirrors, you really can’t get away with much. Creative counting does NOT work here.
After our upper thighs and derrieres fell off, we did some crunches that would have Jillian Michaels yelling uncle. Combine all of that with these weird push up things with weights and rolling around so that your arm is in the air and running laps and stairs and that constituted our workout today.
So, I can gladly say that today I burned a whopping 500 calories compared to Tuesday’s paltry 300 and I am ready and able to eat all of the juicy ribs and hot dogs that the Fourth of July has to offer. Oh, and ice cream, did I mention before that I liked ice cream? What’s the Fourth without ice cream over cobbler? Besides, I’m sure that I’ll have to run up and down the stands at the baseball game getting all of those delicious things that Drill Sergeant has banned. As if! He thinks everything we eat should fit in a sandwich bag. Maybe he means that I can eat all of the ice cream that would fit in the bag, and all of the ribs, and potato salad, and cobbler. I bet that’s it.
Here’s to a Happy Fourth!,
Ok, so I’m totally rockin’ these cute white shorts after our excruciating boot camp this morning. I’m home trying to let the dog out to go to the bathroom and get to my hair appointment across town on time. (I may have been late to everything including my own wedding, but I am NEVER late to a hair appointment – it’s important business.) And, let me just tell you, a big black Bernese Mountain Dog and white shorts DO NOT mix. Hello! Does he have to show his affection all over my shorts and Pliner shoes?!! I could do with a little less affection thank you very much.
So, this week Hurricane Alex, or Adam or whatever, is wreaking havoc on our little outdoor boot camp so we’ve had to move our little butts (yes, they are getting smaller) inside as to not damage the fields. No, Drill Sergeant is so not concerned about our hair getting frizzy – it’s the field damage that is disconcerting. So, we are in an air-conditioned (I know, poor us) room that’s normally used for Zoomba, karate, etc. with mirrors everywhere. I mean really, do you think I want to look at myself at 5:30 in the morning? Um, no – my hair isn’t done, I have no make-up on and I haven’t showered, because really what’s the point? (Shut-up! No comments from the peanut gallery about my lack of showering.)
So, this is what I want you to do: Stand on one leg, put the other leg straight behind you. Put one hand behind your back and the other just barely on a chair for balance (if you need it). Now, bend the leg you are standing on – shoulders back, chin up. Now, stay there for 5 minutes. Feel that? That is your ass and that fleshy part of your thigh with all of those dimples that is melting off. You can thank me later. Blondie, Brownie, Sucker and I did it, so you can too.
Okay, so maybe we whined a bit and let our foot down when Drill Sergeant wasn’t looking. But, when you only have two rows of people and all of those damn mirrors, you really can’t get away with much. Creative counting does NOT work here.
After our upper thighs and derrieres fell off, we did some crunches that would have Jillian Michaels yelling uncle. Combine all of that with these weird push up things with weights and rolling around so that your arm is in the air and running laps and stairs and that constituted our workout today.
So, I can gladly say that today I burned a whopping 500 calories compared to Tuesday’s paltry 300 and I am ready and able to eat all of the juicy ribs and hot dogs that the Fourth of July has to offer. Oh, and ice cream, did I mention before that I liked ice cream? What’s the Fourth without ice cream over cobbler? Besides, I’m sure that I’ll have to run up and down the stands at the baseball game getting all of those delicious things that Drill Sergeant has banned. As if! He thinks everything we eat should fit in a sandwich bag. Maybe he means that I can eat all of the ice cream that would fit in the bag, and all of the ribs, and potato salad, and cobbler. I bet that’s it.
Here’s to a Happy Fourth!,
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)