Summer Bootcamp

It looked more like a tractor salvage yard than my new workout equipment, but I was willing to try. After three months of sweating, groaning and flailing around with Sean T. and the Insanity workouts by myself, I wanted some variety in my exercise. You know, it is the spice of life and all.

At any rate, Mr. Tejano had developed for himself an outdoor bootcamp with items he'd recycled from the barn. He flipped the old tractor tire like mad, sweating gloriously. He ran while pulling a 45 lb. sled like he was being chased by rabid rattlesnakes. His final addition to the trifecta was a 10 lb. sledgehammer he used to beat the stuffing out of another old tractor tire.

I envisioned burning calories faster than dry mesquite wood burns on a windy day. I donned the work gloves, size SM, to protect my new set of acrylics and to keep the callouses at bay. Mr. Tejano admonished, "Lift with your legs, lift with your legs!" as I gasped with the first realization of exactly how much that enormous tractor tire really weighed.

Once I got myself coordinated, though, I flipped that dirty piece of rubber for a quarter mile. Huffing and puffing, I moved on to the sled. My legs dug into the caliche as I scrambled to find sure footing. That quarter mile threaded out and I was drenched in sweat.

The sledgehammer waited for me. I thought about admitting I might need a little break, but my own stubborness (or is it pride?) wouldn't let me. I heaved it and swung it upwards, channeling all my strength into that battered old tractor tire. Over and over again I slammed it. Mr. Tejano remarked that with that kind of solid form, I might find employment on a railroad chain gang when I retire from teaching.

With the heat index well over 100 degrees, I was soaked from head to toe by the time I'd beaten all the demons out of the tire. Only one element remained of my first round with our homemade boot camp: a three mile run through our pastures, which is my favorite course.

I didn't make my best time per mile, not even anywhere close, but it was still decent, considering what I'd just put my body through. When it was all over, I felt supremely satisfied, something akin to brokering a Middle East peace agreement, but on an admittedly smaller scale. I had done it, just like I'd conquered Sean T. and his Insanity. In your face, middle age.

The next morning, when I went to get dressed for my step aerobics class, the twinges reminded me of what I'd done the day before. I knew it would get better once I warmed up on the step.

Once I got to class, I bent to arrange my step. I heard grunting noises close by and smiled a little at the thought of someone already involuntarily vocalizing at such a tiny amount of exertion. I was horrified, though, when I realized those grunting sounds were coming from...me.

Oh, I hurt. My hurts hurt. My muscles screamed at me through the whole class. I wanted to fall asleep immediately at the end, I was so spent.

Bootcamp, you haven't gotten the best of me or my fortysomething body. You watch- I'll show you- just as soon as I slather some more Icy Hot on my legs.