Let me just start out by saying that I hate exercise! I am not one of those people that will talk about the Endorphin rush, mental clarity, or sense of accomplishment that comes from a difficult work out. For me, exercise is a necessary evil - a means to an end, kind of like bikini waxing and childbirth. Exercise is just one more thing on a already long list of chores that needs to be done everyday - it ranks right after locating and cleaning up the unknown smell in my mini van and right before poking myself in the eye with a sharp stick. Having said that, I recently attended an exercise class called "Mommy Bootcamp", I think a more accurate name should be "Mommy wishes she was dead camp". I don't need to explain the details of the class, however I knew after the first 45 seconds that I was in WAY over my head. By the time the class was finished my legs could no longer support my body weight and my arms hurt so much I thought I might have to ask another "Mommy" if she would mind lifting them up and placing them on my steering wheel so I could drive home.
Luckily the kids were already in bed when I got home, because it took every ounce of energy I had left to extract myself from my sweat drenched clothes, crawl over to the Advil (which I swallowed with no water because it made me nauseous to think of going downstairs for a glass), and collapse into bed. Of course at 2:00 am, Mr. 2-year old had a nightmare and started to cry. I sat up swung my legs over the edge of the bed and fell down as soon as my feet hit the floor. I guess in my comatose state I had forgotten about the work out and when I tried to stand on my legs the pain was so excruciating that it actually took my breath away. I used my super-human Mom strength to get myself into Mr. 2-year old's room to calm him down and I ended up sleeping in his rocking chair the rest of the night because I could not bear to make the return trip to my bed. The next morning was not any better. I quickly realized that leg muscles are key in going from a standing to seated position on the toilet. The trip back up from the toilet was no treat either, and let me just say I was impressed at how much weight the toilet paper holder could bear. My stomach muscles hurt so much when I breathed that I was convinced I had some how punctured my lung, perhaps it was the 3,000 push ups I did or maybe it was the fall I took during the night . Additionally, I had a pain in my shoulder that was so excruciating that if I did not know better I would have sworn I had been stabbed in my sleep. I endured several days of agony from my bootcamp experience mitigated to some degree by Ibuprofen and I must admit a few glasses of wine.
I always tend to be a little over zealous when it come to exercise. I think that is a nice way of saying that I have a fairly warped perception of my abilities. You do not have to be a genius to figure out that a "bootcamp" class is going to be difficult ...the level of intensity should be obvious given that bootcamp is used to prepare people for WAR. I think I have attended my last bootcamp class, and unless there is some crazy twist of fate and I am forced to join the armed forces (heaven help us) I think I will leave bootcamp to the professionals.