My friends and I have been going to Pilates since February of last year (with a break for the summer).  We have a private class and it’s one of the best parts of my week.  Even when I wasn’t moving much on my own at least I had an hour a week when I knew I would be…and when life is moving too fast to catch up with friends there’s always Wednesday to look forward to.

For quite awhile, our instructor has been telling us about “Boot Camp” and all of the benefits we might get out of it.  One of the girls took the bait a few months ago and RAVED about the benefits.  And then she quit both Boot Camp and Pilates because she was having some health problems (I would guess that she’s + 50 lbs heavier than I am; problems were joint and heart-related).  The divine Ms G has continued to tell us about the class (never a pitch, just something we might think about) and this week, after another gain, I decided to go for it.  I mentioned it during our class and two of the others said they would be up for it.

Today was the day.  I got up around 7:45 and made myself a bowl of oatmeal.  G’s instructions were very clear:  eat something at least an hour before class.  We’d need the fuel and if we waited we’d puke.  Never a fan of puking, I finished my oatmeal and drank about 750 ml of water.

I was the first to arrive and G cheered for me as soon as I walked in the door.  Another instructor (also a colleague) came around the corner and grinned.  “You’re here for Boot Camp? That’s GREAT!”

Cut to the chase:

It was awful and awesome.  My feet killed me during certain parts of the circuit (I got a fab new pair of sneakers on Thursday; wore them all day Thu and Fri…no issues but I do need some kind of gel insert or something for the heel / arch) and there were times when I came close to tears.  Very close, actually.  But I did it.  As hard as I could (which wasn’t always very hard but I kept moving, kept pushing myself through the moves), I did it.  It was HARD.  F*$% me, it was hard.  But I did it.

My legs were jelly when I walked out and I could already feel it when I laughed or climbed a couple of stairs.  I had a bowl of Fibre 1, a glass of milk (1%) and a tbsp of peanut butter about 45 minutes after I got home and have been drinking water since then.  One of the two seasoned members of the class warned us not to just go home and sit / flop, so I’ve been doing load after load of laundry and hanging it out on the line.  The lugging up stairs and the reaching overhead is rough but it’s good.  I’m glad I’m still moving the muscles because holy hell.  I can already tell the next few days it’s going to be rough.  It’s muscular, though.  I like it.  My bod does too.  It remembers this feeling.

At this point, I hope to go back next week if I can squeeze it in (I’ve got two other commitments later in the morning).  For now, off I got.  There’s lots of cleaning to be done while my endorphins are high and my muscles haven’t figured out how much pain they’re *really* in.

Happy Saturday!