My friend Andi just moved into our neighborhood. Although I’ve known her for close to 15 years, I’ve never actually worked out with her or been trained by her. She offered to hold a bootcamp class for those of us in the neighborhood that are willing to give it a try, and I immediately told her I was interested. I’ve been spending some quality time with our treadmill recently, but it’s just not enough. I need someone to push me.
I was definitely pushed this morning! Her basement is like a mini-gym. She has a lot of equipment and a lot of knowledge, and is a great teacher. I was a little embarrassed at first. I try my best to disguise my ever-increasing weight with clothes, and well, that just goes out the window when you’re working out and jiggling everywhere and your shirt rides up and exposes the mound of stomach underneath. But Andi immediately made me feel at ease, offered constructive criticism and encouragement, and worked every muscle until it hurt.
Once I got home, I knew I’d better keep moving, and something (perhaps the whole pot of coffee I drank!) inspired me to clean the baseboards and hardwood floors in our family room and kitchen. My little adrenaline rush is now coming to a halt, so I’m sitting here waiting for the ache to set it. But what a good ache it is! I can’t wait until the next session!