Fat to Fit to Fierce

The Writing’s On the Wall

First of all, Lyle called me twice this week about coming back to boot camp class, so I had to go. I was so nervous on the way to class tonight. I knew it would be super hard, not only because I didn’t participate in the last session, but also because I skipped my weekend workout and haven’t worked out since Thursday. As soon as I started the warm up jogging lap around the track, I felt like a school kid in trouble, I needed to write over and over on the chalk board “I will not skip a work out; I will not skip boot camp class.” One lap is about 1/4 of a mile and half way through, I was already starting to hurt. Argh, my stupid knee, and now my ankle. Push through I told myself. Luckily, it was just my body warming up. Nothing really bothered me during the rest of class. But, I was the last one around track. I couldn’t believe it. I’m so competitive, I hate being last. I know that physically at this point, I’m not going to be first, but I certainly don’t wanna be last. I knew I had to step it up.  Then we did “5-10 -15-20.” That was 5 squat thrusts, 10 arm band pulls, 15 leg lifts and 20 jumping jacks, and repeated the intervals for 10 minutes. We were outside since the weather broke, but Lyle still found a way to incorporate gym floor suicides. After the suicide runs and ab exercises, we had a relay race. I coached myself “okay, Carli this is it, don’t you be the reason your team loses the race”… After the girl on my team slapped my hand I took off running and gave it all it had. I almost scared myself how fast I ran. I think everyone had the same idea.  Lyle eyeballed the finish line, and fair and square we tied. As long as we didn’t lose, I was happy! Well I’m off to take a shower because Nyah keeps sniffing me throwing doggie hints that I stink.

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