Thanks to Front Range Adventure Boot Camp, I am physically stronger than I have been in years. But one of last week’s workouts nearly did me in.
It was not the day we ran Red Rocks amphitheatre. Though having a partner hold you back with resistance bands while trying to race crawl up the stairs sure was a lot of fun.
It was not when my husband Jamie and I took a two-hour hike up Eldorado Canyon’s Rattlesnake Gulch as I hauled our 30-pound toddler. (When asked by fellow hikers why I was carrying him instead of Jamie, I cheerfully submitted Bode helped me pack on the weight and he can help me take it off).
What nearly sent me to my deathbed was Monday’s Indian run at Boot Camp. Our instructor Robyn divided us into two groups: non-runners (smart people) and runners (masochists). I was assigned to the latter group. The concept of the Indian run is simple: a group of people jog in single file around a playing field and pass a baton backwards. When it reaches the last person, he/she sprints forward to the front of the line and so it continues.
Sound reasonable? Sure, unless your group decides to sprint the entire drill, causing you to finally say, “Ladies, if it is amenable to you, perhaps we should slow this down to a jog so the sprinter does not kill herself trying to take the lead.”
Well, it kind of came out like that. Just add some swearing and an avowal to get even when they least expect it.
Without further ado, my weekly weight loss is: 5 pounds, making my total 23 pounds.
No one is more shocked than I. Sure, my body nearly collapsed from overexertion this week but I overcompensated for it by consuming the equivalent of a child’s birthday cake at a neighborhood party that weekend. I dreaded getting on that scale and I am still scratching my head over my biggest week of weight loss.
Maybe the cake was made with Splenda?
Or it was more likely that I burned about 1,000,000 calories, which compensated for the 500,000 calories I consumed.
Whatever it was, I’ll take it.