It's Not What You Think

I had a rough day yesterday and instead of calling for support, I drowned my sorrows in some awesomely delicious honey bbq wings...a lot of them. Whatever, I'm just human and Buffalo Wild Wings has something in the sauce that is like crack.

This morning I heard the coaches echoing in my head about "no excuse hour." Sure, it wasn't 5:30 to 6:30 a.m., but the fact of the matter was that I wasn't doing anything but laying in bed. I wasn't even sleeping. Despite the tenderness in my knee, I strapped on the workout gear and headed to the gym for Group Power. For those who don't remember, this is basically weight lifting, but you know, in a group.

I got there and was inspired by my friends Brooke and Jessie who have been pounding heavier weights all boot camp. I loaded up my bar. I was feeling pretty good about it until I saw what the instructor was using. She says she is inching toward 70 years old and her bar was loaded like she was stocking up for the winter. I threw another weight on and lifted it with the hopes that I can look like that at 70.

For the most part, I did ok. The extra weight really kicked my butt during squats and biceps, but I was pleasantly surprised at how much I have improved since joining boot camp. I soared through the chest exercises and even noticed my body being slimmer in the mirror.

As I was looking in the mirror, I noticed a girl looking at me. She was very pretty, very toned and looked like she had been going to the gym all her life. My female insecurity took over. Inside my head I'm calling her every name in the book. I imagine throwing her down and screaming "My fat ass has just as much right to be here as you and even though I'm a biggin', at least I'm trying to change that." After class, she smiles and comes up to me and says "I was just noticing your shirt. What does that mean?" I was thinking to myself,"It means I'm an insecure idiot."

With my confidence back into place, I decide to head to the cardio theater to work on my mile. I know I can't depend on the treadmill for an time count, so I forgoe even looking at time and I powered through a mile and a half at an almost steady jog. They were playing some teeny bopper movie, that secretly I was loving. Poppy music, obnoxious clothes and hairstyles. Count me in.