What was I thinking? Remind me again please. Why did I decide to go all bat shit crazy on an exercise regimen. Oh wait, to fit into a bikini. Yes, that’s it. It must have slipped my mind since I am so deliriously sore and exhausted after today’s “Boot Camp” workout.
I used to do Boot Camp all the time until my doctor told me if I continued I’d need a knee replacement in a few years, so I did the smart thing and switched to spinning. Have no fear (you were concerned, weren’t you?), my knees are fine, although there were a few exercises where they definitely have hurled an obscenity or two my way. It’s the rest of my body that hurts, and I mean all of my body. Right now, stairs are difficult, turning is painful, and bending over, not gonna happen. I can barely get up and sit down (when powdering my nose, ahem).
The funny thing is I know how difficult this class can be; I have experienced it before first-hand, and literally could not walk the next day, not without people asking me what happened. Drawing from my past experience, did I do the smart thing and hold back at all, with the understanding I have four more continuous days of this? Nope, not even a little bit. In fact, every time I felt my energy start to wane or my thighs start to cry, I thought of my bathing suit and pushed just a little bit harder. When everyone dropped to the floor and did abs, did I grab some plate weights (Me Hulk; plate weights are my friend) to make it tougher on myself. You bet your sweet ass I did.
Holy hell, I’m in some serious pain now and it’s only been 7 hours since class. I don’t even want to think about what aches tomorrow is going bring, other than knowing I have to get to my noon spinning class. And if I can walk tomorrow, then I’ll be spinning. You can count on it.
If you haven’t realized it by now, I tend to do things to an extreme. The Hubby says I only know one speed, and it’s hard and fast (oh wait, that’s two speeds). I think part of this mentality comes from how I was raised. Yep, blaming mom and dad again, even though I’m definitely old enough to know better now (I love you guys). When we were kids, my parents used to tell my brothers and I “a job wasn’t worth doing if it wasn’t done right,” and let me tell you, they enforced it. There were inspections, and no I didn’t grow up in a military family. If I did a half ass job cleaning the kitchen, I had to go back and do it all over again. I learned my lesson the hard way, more than once.
Also, once we committed to something, we were pretty much bound to it for eternity. If you signed up for a team or individual sport, you didn’t miss a single practice or game, and no amount of begging or pleading could get you out of it. It was like a gang; once you’re in, you’re in for life.
So, my brothers and I were conditioned to commit and give it our all. Not a bad idea, until somebody derails off the tracks and goes overboard. That somebody would be me. I’ve finally learned how to eat in moderation (all good things in moderation), and I’m still working on applying this theory to the rest of my life.
Last year, I was on a walking team with three other people as part of a health and wellness challenge. My team won first place. It was an eight week program and the last five weeks, I never walked less than 10 miles a day. I learned you have to work out more than once a day to routinely hit ten miles. The final week of the program, I decided to push a little harder and walked 100 miles. Do you know what 100 miles comes out to be on a daily basis: 14.3 miles (again with the math). I literally walked almost four full marathons in seven days. Throughout the entire eight week program, I burned through two pairs of sneakers and suffered countless blisters. Blisters, bloody ankles…no matter, I just bandaged them up and marched on. Now, I recognize this is not normal behavior, but you know what? I kind of embrace it too, and I’m a little bit proud of my crazy balls to the wall attack on things.
I don’t recommend this approach for everybody and I certainly think it could be damaging if done all the time, but every so often you should really, really push yourself. You’d be amazed at what you can actually do, and you might even be impressed (Rock on with your bad self). My suggestion is every once in a while, embrace your inner crazy (so long as you aren’t crazy on someone else) and go a little nuts.
Me, I’m going to soak in the tub and pray my legs can carry me to spinning on Thursday. And don’t worry, I’ll be back in the land of the mentally sound in four days, just in time to hang with my family on vacation.
Do you get a secret thrill from really pushing yourself to an extreme (please tell me I’m not alone here), and if so, how so you push yourself?