Boot Camp

It's decided.

It's time for me to make some sacrifices, for the good of my country, my family, my self.

I'm off to Boot Camp.

Fortunately for me, I won't even have to leave my hometown, much less my kids and husband.

My Boot Camp is five minutes away, at our local YMCA.

Instead of a drill sergeant bellowing commands at me, I have an adorable friend leading the class, yelling words of encouragement over her microphone.

Instead of cadence, we have great tunes from the 80's and 90's to sweat to.

Instead of dying in the 90+ degree heat, we're "comfy" in our air-conditioned studio, with our water bottles at our side.

But even though this Boot Camp isn't near as tortuous as that of the military, it still kicks my boo-tay.

Which is exactly the point.

Getting over to the Y by 6am, dressed and ready to roll, takes discipline. Making it through SIXTY minutes of various circuits, weight-lifting, cardio and toning takes stamina. Trying not to limp around and whine too much the day after takes self-control.

Another month or two of this, and I think I might just get one of those VS bikinis. (Varicose veins be damned!)

(Thanks, Monica, for being such an awesome instructor. Watching your toned little body teach us how to properly lunge, plio-hop and football jog truly inspires me to push myself a little more each class. Girl, you seriously rock!)