Rumours of my demise are greatly exaggerated. Though it was questionable at a few points yesterday.
Last night on my training schedule was bootcamp.
My first bootcamp experience was at the beginning of the summer in 2011. Both my husband and I had been inactive for probably around a decade (other than the periodic sprees of activity that I put myself through). We had both saw a groupon for bootcamp class for twenty dollars for the entire month (and up to 4 classes per week) and we decided it was worth a try.
The workouts were all in the evening and thanks to a wonderfully supportive posse of friends to babysit (for free) we were able to attend all four nights.
These nights showcased our inexperience and our lack of physical prowess. I remember my first ever burpee. It was the first workout and after seeing the demonstration I could only do half a burpee. Seriously, that is all that I had in me.
The other thing bootcamp revealed is the fact that the two of us (husband and I) were dedicated and hardworking. After two weeks my pitiful half burpee had turned into doing one hundred in a row as the beginning warmup.
It is safe to say that those classes changed both our lives. We enjoyed working out together and getting fit and encouraging each other through the tough days. Unfortunately, at the same time with multiple babysitters and little consistency our daughter had turned into a holy terror. Temper tantrums were coming fast and furious and with some soul searching I decided to be the one to drop out.
My husband continued to get fit and eventually moved from all bootcamps to mainly crossfit classes with some bootcamp thrown in once per week. I did my smattering of couch to 5k and p90x but it was far less consistent.
Jump forward to December of last year. Quinn took me to crossfit for our 11 year anniversary. He remembered how much he liked to work out with me that day and almost immediately bought me a pass to attend Friday bootcamps with him at the Crossfit Machine Shop.
Last week was our first class together and he was positively giddy with excitement. (He is a sick and twisted individual.) At the same time I was quaking with fear.
And last night I considered not going because I would be alone (since my husband had previous commitments.)
But I went… and I paid the price for going.
We played ‘cards’.
Each suit was a different workout and the number on the card was the number you had to do (and sometimes more evilly the number on the card was doubled, tripled, or even quadrupled).
And that is how I nearly died.
I drew another set of cards (at the end of finishing two sets already) the ‘meanest thing ever’.
In my deck (with only one small card in between) I had a King -worth 10- and an Ace -worth 11- which sounds pretty bad. But that was not it because those exercises were multiplied by 4. So I had to do 84 of those push-ups total.