I just got back from Gerald’s three-hour (actually three-and-a-half hours, of course) one-day mini-bootcamp. Sweet merciful God in heaven! I would whine about being in pain, but the true pain won’t start for another two days, when I wake up, sit up in bed, and every muscle rebels in agony. You will hear the scream, wherever you are, you will hear it.
Anyway, it started with a run/walk up and down South Street. It was, one minute walk, one minute run. But it was Gerald Time, so it was more like 45 seconds walk, minute and a half run. So I learned something about Gerald Time. I always knew times were longer with him when things were hard, I just figured out today that the easier stuff is shorter. Oh well! Also, I’m usually the worst runner, but I was smack in the middle to finish! Yay! After that we were indoors, where we did all sorts of things, including weights! I’ve never used weights before! Kickboxing Erika (differentiated from Class Erica, aka Original Recipe Erica, aka Erica That Doesn’t Actually Need a Title Unless She Asks For One I Guess) said I would get weights in two days, when I suddenly lose the ability to wash my hair or itch my face, because my arms just won’t go that high. I also did, like, eight chin-ups! For the end, sparring!
Bootcamp running gag was the three-armed baby. (We were envisioning, like, comic book three arms, of course.) How would you work out with three arms? How would you stretch? How would you give birth to a three-armed baby? So many questions to keep us laughing like complete idiots while we were supposed to be concentrating on being in terrible, terrible pain. All of the blood had left our brains for our muscles, “thinking” was not our strong suit. I think Kickboxing Erica put it best when she said, “Nothing classy has been said here today.” Very true. I thought back, and could not remember one classy thing.
In other but related news, I had a weird mystery this winter that I finally figured out. I used to be able to sleep in really cold rooms. No heat, one blanket, minimal clothes, no matter how much the temperature dropped. This year, that suddenly changed. I was getting too cold to sleep, having turn on the heat, bundle up, put on socks. The other night I had to sleep in my hoodie. Anyway, I was joking with my dad that I lost all my blubber, and as soon as I said it I realized that was probably actually it. I lost 40 pounds, and now I’m getting all cold! It’s like when a manatee goes on a diet, then she has to buy a sweater.
My first kickboxing class of the year last night. Holy crap, it was packed. I didn’t realize kickboxing was a New Year’s resolution type thing, but apparently I was being foolish. I had to be very careful while roundhouse kicking Cynthia in the head, not to accidentally nick any beginners. But it was fun, because I could actually give useful advice to people. “When you block a blow to your head, keep your torso in mind.” Aw, it’s almost like I know what I’m talking about. I told Gerald about losing 40 pounds, and he was all excited and announced it to everyone, and it was very sweet, even though the beginners were probably all, like, “Yay, lady we don’t know, doing a thing…”