How was my weekend? I got my ass kicked by my brother. You?

So, a few weeks ago, my brother told me that he & another personal trainer were going to be running a fitness bootcamp. I thought, great! I could use someone standing over me while I exercise to shed the holiday pounds. The classes started a couple of weeks ago but after being forced to drink Kamikazi's by Unusual & Flip-Flop, I realized that I was not in any shape to face a bright Saturday morning, let alone strenuous physical activity.

However, I couldn't face being mocked by my older brother for not following through on my promise. What's an hour of exercise? It's not going to kill me, right? "Fitness Bootcamp" just has to be some cutsie name for it. My brother wouldn't knowingly, willingly force me to do anything that I can't handle, right?

Needless to say, I've never been so f---- wrong in my life.

So, this past Saturday, I got up at the ungodly hour of 5 a.m., dressed, realized that I woke up too damn early for a workout that doesn't begin until 7:30, screwed around on the internet, then dragged by ass down to Northern Liberties. The morning starts out innocent enough. I meet the personal trainer who seems nice. He lets me get on the treadmill for a few minutes & walk at my own pace. Then he calls me downstairs to start. 1st part: Cardio - I'm pretty good at that, no probs. During my cardio, I happen to mention that while my arms are the flabbiest, most pathetic part of my body, I 'm too weak to work on them. Big Mistake.

2nd, 3rd, 4th (for what feels like 1 hr, 15 mins): ARMS! Sick bastard! Push ups, resistance bands, arm curls, every arm related exercise that you can think of, he made me do them. No matter how well or badly I did them, I was "rewarded" by being told to do 5 more. Weakling that I am, I couldn't help but think " what happens if I just say no? What can he do to me? He can't force me to do it, can he?" Around this point my brother strolls in laughing & making jokes at MY expense! All I could think of was, what did I ever do to him to deserve this? Was it when I accidentally scratched his Thriller record when I was younger? Is this punishment for going through his personal stuff when I was a kid? Is this payback for when I dropped my nephew when he was about 6 months old ( in my defense, the kid ROLLED off the sofa. I was distracted by something & started talking; left him on the sofa and HE rolled off)?

After that, we get to the abs, which I can handle like a pro since I love doing my 8 minute abs dvd. It was easiest of this torturous hour long workout. By the time we get to legs & lunges, I'm practically crying & crying out in pain. I'm hoping that the sweat trickling in my eyes can mask the real tears that I'm shedding.

Then, after all that, I was handed over to my brother to be thrown back onto the treadmill. I can barely climb the steps. Surely, after all of this, he would take pity on me & ease up. NO! He asks me what speed I normally put the treadmill on. When he hears my response, he laughs! Like a labrat, I had to get on, have the speed cranked up & was told not to touch it. Like a true American, the only thing that got me through the torture was images of a McDonalds breakfast dancing in my head.
In one hour, I experienced a whole gamut of emotions. I laughed at my own pathetic inability to perform some basic maneuvers. I cried tears of joy & relief when the torture was over. I sweated & cried tears of disappointment when I realized that I had about 20 more reps before the pain would end.

So, since Saturday, I've been hobbling around popping Aleve when I really need some Percocet, barely able to hold my purse because of the pain; but despite it all, I know I'm going back next Saturday & the remaining Saturdays in the program.

Why? Because it's the holidays, I'm a fat ass & I need something to make me feel better while I'm gorging myself.

Anyone want to join me?