Most everybody that knows me, knows that I love me some boot camp. I love boot camp like a fat kid loves cake. I also love cake. I have a friend who thinks I go too much. A close relative of mine told me I talk about it too much on Facebook. I have missed family functions on Tues & Thursday nights cause I have boot camp. My husband once turned a simple statement of “Hey we gotta go because I have to be up at 4:15 tomorrow morning” into “My wife hates boot camp”. Wait, what…..um no. Now, there are a handful of people that can relate to this statement: I hate getting up Wed morning when I’ve just finished boot camp 10 hours ago Tues night. However, I love why I’m getting up. I probably tell Mallory that every Wed morning. I’ll even go a step further and say that I love Extreme Fit boot camp. I cheated on the EF brand once. I felt super guilty the entire time. Not only that, but I had a horrible experience, confessed it all to Rachel and will never do that again. I’m like colander with a secret. Most everything flows right out but I can hold the important things. Does that even make sense? Moving on…

As most of you who read this know, I started going 5 to 6 days in a row. I was in it to win it. Pushing myself as hard as I could. Sometimes it worked. Sometimes it didn’t. Then something happened. During a class, I had a crying fit & walked away from the group. It’s one thing to shed a tear or two, it’s another for me to cry the way I did. My initial reaction, upon embarrassment, was to blame it on a personal matter. Part of that had something to do with it, but that wasn’t the root of the problem. The more I dissected the issue, the more I realized the dilemma: I was physically exhausted. My body got mad at me. Not a particular part of it. I’m used to the aching pain of arthritis in my knees. That’s just a part of being so…young. Everything was sore. Everything was tired. Everything just hurt. I told my BCP (boot camp partner) all about it but I kept it in to everybody else. I told myself to just get over it. However, I skipped my morning class that week. I went to my night classes but I hated it and gave 50%. I normally glance at my watch to check my heart rate. Not that week. I purposely looked to count down when I could get into my car. I was ready for a break and not feel guilty for skipping class.

Lucky for me, a break was coming. This past week has been bitter sweet. I knew that if I sat around, I’d regret it. So I decided to get up early – 5:30 is better than 4:15 anyday! I got the dogs and walked. Just simply walked for an hour. I was proud of myself for making the effort to do something at all. However, every morning I realized the same thing: I’ve missed boot camp. Even though I had the morning to myself, I missed it. I missed the people! The morning class is quiet which is what I need that early. I can work out & be left alone. Well I’m left alone cause I’m always behind everybody else. So I just flip that to my advantage. The afternoon class is spunky & vivacious. I can guarantee that it’s much needed as it’s just crazy hot outside already. I cannot begin to even type the things that are said and heard in that class – but I love it. Is it weird that I’ve missed all that? The blood, sweat & tears. Literally cause I’ve bled. I’ve sweat. I’ve cried enough tears to fill a bucket. Yet I’ve missed all that. Boot camp makes the other areas in my life better. Somehow. Someway. It’s been a week and it’s been enough. It’s time to get back out there and get too it!