I guess I didn’t know what to expect going into this. Something along the lines of a bald guy, screaming at me with spittle flying at me, making me want to run fast, work harder just to get away from him. To put it mildly this was not the experience I had at Boot camp on day one.
Mid day I had a meeting with the leader of this group. Chris Mikilas—a gruff, tell-it like-it-is, no nonsense kind of guy. First I gave my age, weight and then the obligatory measurements and fat pinch. Oh how we all love that. When I first decided to do this I wasn’t going to have my numbers done. Why? I don’t care what they are. I wanna look great naked, I thought to myself. But really I didn’t wanna hear the numbers. I know that it’s a starting place, a jumping off point, right? In my mind it was a jail sentence, a number holding me back. After some prodding from my girl Anita about the benefits, I agreed on one condition. I don’t want to know the starting numbers! Just the results, inches lost. So kindly Chris took my numbers and didn’t push about my weirdo “I don’t wanna know!” routine. He printed out a ridiculously easy to follow food plan. And I only asked 101 questions. “Can I change this?—Can I change that?”
“Stick to the plan.”He said kindly. Obviously he has heard these questions once or twice or maybe a million times before but still he was kind about it. If I were him, I’d wanna scream at me.
“What you do doesn’t work! Follow the plan!” But he doesn’t. Our meeting ends and I leave just as nervous as I started out. For all those that don’t know me—I’m a bit neurotic, well disguised as a sane and well adjusted person. I tend to tunnel vision about things. Some people might call it obsessing but me, I stick to tunnel vision, it’s nicer. So I leave knowing I’ll be back in an hour to work out here with what I’m told it about 80 other people. I get to be new in front of 80 other people—great.
When I show up there are only ten or so people milling around the waiting. Ten people, a very respectable number, I think stretching. In the next ten minutes fifty other people show up ready to work out. When Chris has us all stretch and then has us go to our beginner, intermediate or advanced stations. Thinking I might qualify as an intermediate I ask what he thinks. “Try the beginners” and I head off wondering if somehow I look like beginner. When they begin I start strong and give it my all. Within minutes I’m sweating. And strangely enough my muscles are trembling, a lot. When I make it to the squat jump, I almost fall over because my legs are shaking so. By the time I hit the third round of jumping jacks I decide there is a good possibility I may vomit. It’s now in the midst of wondering if I should run to the bathroom that I realize—I am a beginner and that’s ok.
During the course of the workout our technique is perfected and we are pushed to work harder with a combination of positive encouragement from trainers and others around us. There is no mopping of the brow from being spit on from a crazy drill sergeant. The only thing dripping down my face is sweat and a whole lot of it. This workout group suits me well and I hope I will be worthy soon to make it to the intermediate group.
Signing out for tonight,
Christine
