Booty Call

Tomorrow is what I like to call a 'fresh start.' A 'new beginning' Or, the kick-off of a month of complete torture. Look at it however you like.

Let me be more specific.

Monday, June 1, 2009, is the start of a month. long. BOOTCAMP. (insert dramatic music here....) No, I did not enlist. And I can say with every confidence that my mind and body couldn't take the military. The military-esque experience upon which I am about to take part is putting me in a state of constant anxiety, tinged with a shred of fear, and a whole helluva lot of excitement and anticipation. So, I'm pretty sure the Army would cause hyperventilation and likely hospitalization.

I gave myself a good 18-months to be disciplined and get myself back in shape after Riley's birth. It just wasn't happening. And the result is a big, out-of-shape blob of a girl that looks something like someone I used to know. The girl I used to know had a great summer wardrobe because she FIT into her clothes. Yeah....not so much now.

I'm over it.

So, instead of a random Mother's Day gift, I asked Kevin if I could enroll in this bad-ass bootcamp class that I have been wanting to enroll in for over a year now.

The price ($275) held me back almost as much as the fear. Enough, however, is enough. I'm sick of being a gross representation of my former self.

Who is this person? Yuck.

I'm in a rut in a big way and I'm not taking it anymore!

Another big factor in my enrollment is my awesome sister-in-law Jaimie who decided to take the bootcamp plunge as well. Jaimie starts 2 weeks after me, in a different location, at a different time (5:45 am--holy crap), but the program is the same and I know both of us doing this will be even more motivation to do well and finish successfully.

The camp is every day for an hour. On the weekends, we have assignments to do on our own. No off-days, ever. It is supposedly pretty intense and the first rule is NO WHINING. Yikes. If you miss without letting someone know (AWOL), the entire group pays. Yikes, again. We have a food plan to follow and have to keep a food log for our instructors to review everyday.Simply put: these people are not messing around. Gulp.

So, yeah. I'm paying someone to kick my ass. If you know me at all, you know I commit to things in a big way. Which means, I'm expecting my money's worth out of this month--even if it kills me.