Relationship Status: It's Complicated

It is 6:51 am, post boot camp and shower and I would have to say I still love boot camp. But it is an odd thing, this boot camp. I have never had such a complicated relationship with a workout routine. Usually, I just always hate it or always love it. Wait, I have never loved it. I have loved aspects of it and had some really good days but I have never loved it.

But boot camp is like giving birth. There is alot of pain and struggle during labor but afterwards...there is just love and a story. I wake up in the morning and my first thought...hang on...let's go back a few hours. I go to bed each night and think, "man it is so late, I should just skip boot camp. I can miss one day." And I purposely don't check my IPhone alarm app to see if the alarm is set. I figure I can use it as an excuse for why I didn't get up.

But thankfully my husband has to be at work at 4:45 each morning and he is not quiet about getting ready. As a matter of fact, I think he is noisy on purpose. But by the time he leaves I am just enough awake to warrant a potty break. And I figure, since I am up, I will get dress for boot camp. Even that is still negotiable at this point. "Oh, no I can't find an exercise bra...guess I can't go. " And then, "I can't find matching socks so I can't go." I do this all the way out the door. And today I was able to add, "They blocked the main road and the detour is 10 minutes out of my way." But I still go.

As I race into the parking lot (because all my negotiating with myself has made me late). I start to get excited. And by excited I mean, it's too late now to turn around. But I get out, place my mat on the ground, put the weights down, get my sweat rag out, take a big swig of water and start to stretch.

Our warm up is always a run somewhere. We run around the church, around the track, to the gym or gasp, around the block. Now remember, running is a technique and not a pace. And my pace...slower than some people who are walking the warm up. And I do this without any music so I can actually hear myself gasping for my next breath. I am not use to that. But I learn to gasp in rhythm and whisper in cadence...you can do it, yes you can, you can do it, you can you can you can...and then all I can get out is one syllable...can, can, can, can.

As the work out continues I am bombarded by many thoughts:
You can do this.
You can't do that.
You want me to do what?
Oh my Gosh, I am doing it.
I have to stop....
I'll stop in 10 seconds.
I can stop now and no one will say anything.
If I close my eyes, I can think about my happy place.
If I close my eyes, I think I will pass out.
I don't bend that way.
I did it.
I wasn't last.
I wasn't first to fall.
This is gonna hurt tomorrow.
This was easier than I thought.
This hurts more than I thought it would .

All these thoughts go through my head while I am there. Outwardly, I think I am the only one groaning and talking to myself...but who cares.

But when all is said and done and I am driving home and I see that I burnt 600 calories in one hour and I feel the strength in my arms as I turn the steering wheel or the muscles in my legs as I walk up the driveway, I know boot camp loves me and I love it back.

He had me at chocolate

My mother always said the way to a man's heart is through his stomach. To get to my heart, you have to pass my sweet tooth. So I was so excited when my boot camp leader said that a great inexpensive recovery drink was chocolate milk. Of course he suggested 1% milk, which is just FINE with me. It is high in protein and the sugar in the chocolate will raise your glucose which can become low after a work out.

I knew then that I was at the right place...TexasBootCamp. I was nervous at my first session. I imagined people yelling and cursing at me. I imagined that it was pouring and that I would be shivering in the cold rain. I imagined crawling through mud and holding a log over my head for hours on end. Then I realized...that was GI Jane.

Don't get me wrong, boot camp is tough but it is full of words of encouragement and praise. Michael plays Toby Mac and we end in prayer. I absolutely love it! It is tough. I won't lie. My legs hurt, my arms ache and my core muscles are sore but as my daughter says, "it's not pain, its progress."

Meet my friends Shame, Comfy and Fear

I have been frustrated with my pace lately. By now I should be running circles around others. I don't know who those "others" are but I should be running circles around them. But I think I have become comfortable with my pace.

Now I love a comfy couch, a comfy bed and comfy chair. But I don't think my workouts should be comfy. Working out is about getting stronger and healthier and that takes breaking down muscle to build them back up again. There is nothing comfy about breaking down something. I mean comfy is what got me to where I am now...fluffy and unhealthy. Comfy says to sit on the couch and watch a good movie. Comfy says it is easier to sleep in than get up and work out. Comfy says it is easier to grab a few pieces of chocolate as oppose to a few pieces of fruit. Yes, comfy can be our enemy.

But comfy loves company. My comfy loves fear. Each day during my 3 day, I made note of how I felt during mile 15. I was tired. My feet hurt, my legs ached and I was just tired. And I told myself..."If you feel like this after 15 miles of walking, how are you going to feel after 13 miles of running?" You see, I had signed up a 1/2 mary in January. And well after my 3 day, Fear joined Comfy as my companions.

They became good friends. One would convince me that the bed was too comfy and the other would convince me that I couldn't do it. And they did this until 1 day before the run, when I went to pick up my race packet. Yeah you heard me, I picked up my race packet and went to the expo. Look, I may not be running but I want my t-shirt!

It was at the expo that Comfy and Fear met their bigger brother, Shame. Yes, I felt shame as I picked up my packet, knowing darn well I wasn't running. I felt shame as I went from booth to booth looking at things and people looking at me like "what are you doing here?". A few months ago I would have held my head high and said, "yeah I am fluffy but I am a runner!". Now, all I could do is agree.

And the next morning as I met all my friends to cheer them on during the race, Shame stood next to me. As my friend that just jumped back from a bad MS episode where she was blind and couldn't walk for long periods of time, came out dressed to run as much of the 1/2 mary as possible, Shame clung to me. She made it 6 miles, then had to SAG. But she had the courage to start and isn't that what Bingham says? The miracle is not that I finished but I had the courage to start?

So I am starting over. I want to increase my speed and get my passion back. I am going to attempt C25K again but at a faster pace. I am going to break out of comfy running (slower pace) and break into pushing myself.

I am doing WW also. Now I have been a member since 2009. I haven't followed the program but I have been a member. Well I started counting my points and realized...I eat alot. I eat more than I realized. It has been a week and so far so good. I am within points and I have lost 2 pounds. I figure I will be able to run faster if I have less weight to carry.