Friday morning bootcamp. Ugh. I really don't like you at all. I just wanna go to sleeeepp!! I had added incentive. I had a guest come with me for the morning...a co-worker. I told her to be prepared. Cheap words compared to the torture that laid ahead. If I hadn't have shown up, she would have been on my front porch, banging on the door.
Morning bootcamp means lots of running. Lots and lots of damned running, and lots and lots of repetitions. So many of both, that I couldn't see where I was running through my eyelash sweat. As I stood, legs shaking, in the dim moonlight of the tennis court, and listened to Adam Lambert, I wanted to scream right along with him "what do you want from me!?!"
I was sweating like I was standing in the shower. But I wasn't. I was outside under the stars and my sports bra was forming a small puddle. There's not much more to report about the remainder of the repetitive torture. I'm down 6 lbs. Yeah, just 6, but that's 6 down...and they're down slowly but surely, which means they should stay down. I'm halfway done. What an accomplishment!
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The adventures and confessions of a single girl, travel junkie, shopaholic, amateur photographer, prodigal scrapbooker, social drinker, public servant, sister, daughter, friend, klutz, and nap time professional who keeps looking for the hidden meaning in it all. These are the scenes from my life.
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