Boot camp: again and again and again and again ...

I’d like to think I’m in good shape.

While that shape might appear to be round to people who see me and don’t know me personally, let me regale you with a quick history lesson of my past.

April 29, 2013 I stepped on a scale for the first time in years and saw the number 316 staring back at me.

I have been overweight for essentially my entire life, although I don’t blame anyone except myself for it.

I tried many times to lose weight, but could never seem to pull it off.

I went to the gym almost daily, but the whole controlling your food intake thing was where I struggled.

After graduating from college I decided the summer of 2013 was when I was going to turn my health around for good, and I did.

I’m now around 225 pounds and a much, much happier person.

I came into work last week to see a flyer for the Battlefords Fit Body Boot Camp sitting on my desk.

Still haven’t decided if that was an unintentional fat joke or not ... just kidding.

I have never taken part in a workout class before because when I exercise I like to keep to myself, just me and music.

But I thought this would be a fun thing to try, not only to write a story about, but also to see if my fitness levels are actually where I think they are.

I got off to a fantastic start when I couldn’t find the building.

I’d use the excuse that I’m new here, but it’s been four months now, so I think I need to come up with a new one.

When I finally found it, in the plaza next to M&M Meats, I walked in to discover I was the only guy there.

Not that that’s an issue, it just caught me by surprise a little.

I signed my life away on the waiver form and stepped into the circle to begin the class.

Traylene came up to me and asked what size of weights I wanted, giving me a list ranging from five pounds to 20 pounds.

While I don’t lift weights I felt confident enough to take the 15-pounders. Probably over confidence on my part.

“Since it’s your first day you don’t need to give it everything you’ve got,” the instructor Jen said to me.

“This shouldn’t be too bad, I run every single day,” I thought as we began with the usual stretches.

Thirty seconds of butt kicks and 30 seconds of twist-jumps later we were split into two groups, upper-body and lower-body.

There were six total exercises we did, three in one group and three in the other.

Seems easy enough right? Six exercises, piece of cake!

It was the manner in which we performed them that proved difficult.

Forty seconds of exercise, followed by 10 seconds of rest. Three exercises per set, and six sets.

My side of the class did the lower-body part first, which included “skaters,” squats with a medicine ball and sprinting on the spot.

The skates were pretty easy, you jump from one leg to the other moving the foot you jumped off behind the one you land on, moving your arms sort of like a speed skater does.

Or a hockey player. Sorry, any chance I have to talk about hockey I have to take.

The squats were ... not so easy.

Holding the medicine ball with the palms of your hands, fingers pointed to the roof, you squat down then stand up alternating lifting a knee as high as you can.

This is where I started to really sweat, both physically and mentally.

After the squats it was just jogging on the spot, which was simple enough.

Ten seconds of rest is hardly enough to get your breath back, however.

So we did it again. And again and again and again and again.

After the third set of squats I looked at Traylene and said, “half-way?” Wanting to lie down and never stand up again.

I powered through, but I felt it for a long while afterwards. Sitting down becomes a mental battle after a leg workout. Stairs become your mortal enemy. 

The seven steps from the door of my apartment building to my floor have never been more difficult to conquer.

Like the idiot I am, I didn’t think to bring anything to drink to this class.

Traylene was kind enough to ask if I wanted some water after we finished the leg section of the workout.

“Nah I think I should be fine,” I responded. I’m an idiot, remember?

Next came the arm workouts, and I know what you’re thinking. 

“Sun’s out, guns out! Two tickets to the gun show! Bi’s and chest, forget the rest!” I don’t lift weights though, remember?

Fifteen pounds was easy enough for the alternate raising of the weights straight out in front of me.

Lifting both straight out to the side was a lot more difficult.

And I know, 15-pounds hardly seems difficult. But give it a shot and tell me how you feel.

Unless you’re stronger than I, which is a very distinct possibility. In that case disregard that last sentence.

After the lateral raise was the tricep kickbacks where you bend your knees slightly, lean forward, lock your elbows at your side and then straighten your elbows so your arms are parallel with the floor.

When we finished I felt accomplished. I didn’t quit, I didn’t collapse and I didn’t cry.

Well, on the outside at least.

To quote my favourite television salesman Billy Mays, “But wait, there’s more!”

That’s right, we still had the big finale which was three minutes of doing as many sets as you could of the following: 20 jump squats, 20 bicycle kicks and 10 skaters.

I thought I had already reached my squat quota for 2015, after the finale that might carry over into 2016.

The finale was arguably the longest three minutes of my life. Jen’s encouraging, “two minutes left!” only dampened my spirits because it felt like we had already been going for five.

I made it through three sets of each before the class was mercifully over.

Traylene was happy to take a picture of me after all was said and done, as most participants laughed at my agony.

I don’t blame them; I most likely would have done the same.

I had planned to go to one of the Saturday morning classes, but my legs just wouldn’t let me.

Now as I type this on Sunday morning, my arms are in a considerable amount of agony as well. I think I deserve a day off.

Just kidding, see you at the gym.