Hup Two Three Four

I started "boot camp" on Monday. The notice came around at work - 2 mornings a week from 6:45 till 7:45 for four weeks. $99. Finishing the Wed before Christmas.

Four of us signed up - Mumsy, the most senior of the HR ladies, a girl who also plays soccer with me and myself - imagining mud crawling, tyre hopping, cammies and shoe polish; Buff shirtless men with dog tags, square jaws and tight shorts; and us finishing on Dec 21 gleaming and glinting with beads of sparkly sweat (as apposed to my drippy ugly sweat), toight and fit.

The other one of the HR ladies told us about one running down at Gordon, where for every minute you're late, you get ten pushups. They ran 15k on their first day holding weights up over their head. And whilst this was intimidating, it was also exciting - this would be just what we need to shift those kilos (that I seem to be negating by permissing emotional eating!).

Um no.

We had an initial test on Friday - height, weight, BMI, blood pressure. This was where he let us know that their 'competitive edge' is that they make it 'fun' and 'enjoyable'. This is also where we lost our first teammate - Mumsy was on her way to get tested when she got the call, so she was down for the count.

Monday morning, the soccer player didn't make it - she 'snoozed' her alarm from 5am to 7:30, arriving at work for a morning coffee at 9:30, promising to come along on Wednesday.

Monday was the initial testing - getting some base scores so we can how much we improve. I ran 9 laps of the cones in 12 minutes, I held 'brace' position for 2:20 (beating everyone else which was nice) and did 47 (kneww) pushups in a minute. By ten am I was walking like a lego man.

I was almost late this morning (seeing how my timing goes when I wake up at 6:20 instead of 6:10) and arrived to find myself the only one of my aweseome foursome threeseome. The most senior of the HR ladies caught up with us as we headed down to the lake, but still no sign of the soccer player. This morning we did fartlek training (which is not as entertaining as it might sound) - for those wishing to get more cardio you ran a minute then jogged a minute for what turned out to be 5k. For those trying to shift those kilos you got to speed walk the whole time. Fetch me that cane, I'm a walker.

However, my legs are still aching, and I've been warned that I may have to physically lift my legs off the bed tmr (SPEAKING OFF WHICH, HOW FRICKIN COLD IS IT ATM!??!!!). I'm also unable to 'visit the ladies' without sounding like I'm suffering some sort of labour induced / laxette OD / getting-back-to-my-roots-primal-grunt from the pain down my thighs. And I have grass rash on my belly (that's the more entertaining of the two).

I'm hoping to keep my legs moving and not get them stiff by hitting the shops today - taking my scraggly brother shopping and for a haircut. Last thing I need at the moment is to have to be carried to the lecturn thing to do a reading.

And as a closing note - if someone tells you that they are going to a viewing the day before the funeral, it's proddly not the best time to start rambling about how seeing your relatives lifeless ruined all of your happy memories of them, or how their skin was tearing up and falling off their face.

Thanks.