Middle-age Penance

I started boot camp a few days ago. 

Let me just repeat, I STARTED BOOT CAMP A FEW DAYS AGO, and I can’t move a single joint without massive, unbearable, waves of pain shooting through my ravaged, anguished, depleted body, leaving me in the uncompromising predicament of not being able to assuage my overwhelming hunger, because a trip to the refrigerator is out of the question. 

I expect a few condolence cards in the mail sympathizing with my deceased delectation. I’m not exaggerating. I can barely type let alone think and did I mention I’m hungry? 

At 11:30 last night I had to get up and hobble to the kitchen for some pistachios. It’s cold and I’m only wearing underwear so I bring the bowl of nuts back to bed. I snuggle under the blankets like a fat squirrel with her winter stash. 

I’m peacefully eating my nuts when Larry says (he really yelled), “What the hell? Are you eating nuts in the middle of the night?” 

Me, “crunch, crunch, crunch,” it’s my policy not to communicate with unreasonable people. 

Larry, “Could you eat somewhere else? I’m trying to sleep. Jesus.” 

So he’s kicking me out of bed in the middle of the night because I’m eating nuts? I couldn’t stiffle the giggle, it just slipped out. 

Larry, “Some of us have to work tomorrow.” 

So I gather up my nuts and take them to the living room, where I decide I will stay all night, as punishment for his rudeness. Then it occurs to me, why does he get the warm bed all to himself, and I’m on the couch?  

Let me repeat, I STARTED BOOT CAMP A FEW DAYS AGO. 

I finish my nuts and hobble back to my room. I have to turn on all the lights so I can brush my teeth, it’s unfortunate that the drawer slams, twice, and I did flush the toilet just to be annoying. (I know there’s a water shortage so I won’t flush all day today) He groans, I smile, married almost 34 years, and it’s like the honeymoon never ends.
This morning I awoke and the minute I reach for my iPhone an electrical current of pain shoots through me like a bullet. Then I remember, I STARTED BOOT CAMP A FEW DAYS AGO. 

With enormous courage I push through the pain and check my blog hits. I’m obsessed and if you want to give me a total thrill read my blog twice. Larry comes in with my coffee, the least he could do after the shenanigans last night, I give him my Meryl Streep look and remark, “Thank you, that’s all.” 

He says, “Were you really eating nuts in the middle of the night?” 

My policy is not to communicate with unreasonable people so I just peer at him over the rim of my coffee cup. Then he says, “You were so quiet when you came back to bed,” and I spit coffee all over the place. 

I was sort of bullied into returning to a second class this morning. Our dear friend Steve promises to join me, so all I can do is struggle into my big girl yoga pants, and hobble to the car. I have acquiesced to a second round of penance for being middle-aged. 

Joining the group at the Sports Park, Steve has already arrived, along with the peppy instructor. I’m exhausted after the warm up. Our instructor talks us through the sets, keeping an upbeat voice, and smiling like this is normal behavior for adults. 

I somehow manage to get to the last part of the first set which are step-ups, there is this two foot cement block we’re supposed to use as a prop, but I have to use both hands just to lift my leg onto the block. 

I look at Steve, “There is no way I can do this?” I’m confounded by the others who are doing two sets of ten while chatting it up. 

Steve says, “Use the bench over there it’s lower,” he points to a small bench a few feet away. 

I hobble over and sit down. Perfect. That’s when the peppy instructor prods me to keep going. She is still smiling. I drag my sorry ass off the bench and succeed in one step up, she says, “good job, you just needed a little confidence.” What I need is a surrogate. 

On my way home I pull into the Lunardi’s parking lot to pick up a snack, I fricken earned a treat, and now I have an entire grocery store. I am giddy with anticipation. 

The phone rings, it’s Steve, “I just wanted to say you did a great job today.” 

I laugh, “I can hardly walk, I sweat half my body weight, and now I’m at Lunardi’s in search of a snack.” 

He says, “Get the deli tuna, it’s the best, and they’ll let you sample.” 

I was going for the sushi but I could try the tuna too? I grab a basket then switch to a cart, I STARTED BOOT CAMP A FEW DAYS AGO, and I’m hungry. 

The sour dough bread from Watsonville gets lobbed into my cart, I grab two boxes of fresh sushi, and head to the deli counter. I try the tuna, the pasta salad, the potato salad, and then the macaroni salad.  I’m not sure but I think the server is annoyed with me? 

I order a half pint of the tuna and have her throw in a ham quiche. On the way to the cashier I grab two huge bags of sunflower seeds and a tub of cookies. I can’t wait to get home, time to blog, eat, and enjoy a pot of coffee all by myself. 

When I pull into the garage I realize Larry is still home. Shit. Should I leave all this food in the car? He’ll think I’m insane. 

Before I can figure out what to do, he opens the passenger door, and grabs the bags of groceries off the seat. As he’s unpacking he doesn’t say a word, until he comes to the bags of nuts, then he says, “You’re not planning on eating nuts again tonight?” 

But as you know, it’s my policy not to communicate with unreasonable people, so I just smile.




Check out Epowered Boot Camps Web Site: MPowered Bootcamps



If you enjoyed this post you might also enjoy another: Living in the Gap, drop in anytime.




PS. Bootcamp is not the place to show off your new Muck Boots

PSS. Bootcamp is totally fun for people who enjoy pain

PSSS. Bootcamp is not conducive for those who like to wake up slowly or not at all

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