Bootcamp for Boobs

It was months ago that I started dragging two friends to Bootcamp at the local YMCA. It is an hour-long class where you do 10-12 stations, two to three times around. It mostly worked on strength training but some instructors add cardio or high intensity stations. It was a great workout, made even more tolerable (dare I say fun!) with fun people. One class we took was a bit more relaxed, where we could goof off a bit, maybe dance instead of doing jumping jacks. The instructor was good with that because it still got our heart rate up. Plus, who could not smile while we danced…??!!

I really wish we had video of us dancing. It is like watching a rave dancer do jazzercise. But with gusto and flare and rhythm.

Sometimes people need to smile more when they are working out. It shouldn’t be torture (Jamie, we love you but your workouts are torture!) Seriously, my thighs. Still. Hurt.

Andrea got us matching headbands and wristbands (these are to wipe away sweat from your brow), so we could liven up the gym a bit. Then I bought us matching workout shirts that say: “I am stronger than you think.” Because we are.

I can honestly say that I pushed myself harder than I ever have in my life in these classes. Maybe out of fear. Maybe to see how strong I can be. Maybe because I’ve never needed to be stronger in my life. Maybe because I know that after surgery, I can’t do any of it for an undetermined length of time. Maybe it’s because of all of that. But I can say that it saved my sanity. And made me look forward to something when I didn’t have anything else to look forward to. And I did it for myself.

And I can hardly believe the support and community I felt when I said it was my last day. Hugs, yes, and the request to make sure that I kept in touch. And that I could workout with the trainers any time, within my surgeon’s required limits, of course. And the prayers coming my way. I will take the strength I gained there through this journey.