Ouch!

I....am....so.....sore......right.....now.

I am not sure why but it even kind of hurts to type, too. All because I had to go and try to be superwoman.

Okay, here's the deal. I consider myself to be a pretty fit person. In fact, if I listen to the Air Force, I can even smile and go ahead and say that I am in excellent condition. When I took my annual PT test in June (which consists of timed military style push-ups, sit-ups, and a 1.5 mile run), I beat every woman in my squadron, and in the run, almost all of the men, too. Had me feeling all good and positive. All the running I do at night actually pays off, I thought.

Then Isaiah and his best friend Keith decided to introduce me to this workout regime called CrossFit. You may have heard of it, but if you are kind of oblivious to these things (as I tend to be most of the time) you are probably just staring at the screen with a blank expression. It's okay, I completely understand.

Anyway, I am probably not doing the program much justice by describing it in these terms, but it is basically a no-frills kind of strengthening/conditioning program that is used by countless athletes, special forces units, martial artists, etc....it is not meant for people who are trying to look cute and check themselves out in mirrors while they do bicep curls or something in the gym. Now, this is how it was told to me, and I got really amped about it. I don't know about you, but I cannot stand the gym most of the time. You either have the same guys there checking out the women (this works in reverse too, ladies!), or you have to fight for your turn on a machine. Gets kind of old. C'mon.

As I was saying...I got all excited about it, especially when Isaiah came home the first day completely wrecked and about to toss his cookies. Since it was the day after his birthday, I figured that the drinks he and his friends celebrated with the day before might have got to him. I empathized with him while the naughty voice in my head cackled "wimp!" Then I promised to go with him and Keith another day. No sweat!

Wrong. Very wrong. There was sweat. Quite a bit of it. Belonging to me, as a matter of fact. We were given a deceptively simple sounding workout to do. The "simple workout" nearly made me hurl. Let's just say it involved a combination of a whole lot of push-ups and pull-ups (called burpies), and squats performed while hoisting a 20-pound ball in the air (okay, I admit that I took a lighter ball....so sue me). I started off pretty strong, but by the end, only sheer willpower and the fact that my husband was watching (of course, he finished before me) got me through the workout. I tell you the truth, it took everything I had not to hurl in the bucket affectionately named "Pukie" that they keep for newbies like me.

So now I sit. In front of the computer. Wondering how on earth my body is still operating. I squatted down to pick up my daughter earlier and couldn't get back up. Yeah, it's pitiful. So the question is, am I going back?

Call me crazy...but yes! There is something so...well, therapeutic about reaching beyond what you think are your capabilities and actually finding out that you can do so much more. And not drop dead in the process. Even if I hurt. Today. And probably tomorrow. And the day after.

So, people, I will keep you posted and let you know if I am able to hang. And that's about all I can manage at the moment...because I am going to bed! Besos!