Since he's as long winded as I am (if not more so), I asked him to guest-write tonight's Bootcamp shakedown. Ladies and gents, it's my pleasure to present, Mr. TinyTrim!
It's funny. I had to hear the phrase "naked salsa dancing" as part of a quiz question tonight ("Which activity is the most helpful for waist control?" -- the answer's actually "resistance training") before I remembered how we warmed up. The same way! Well, without the 'naked.'
Our little French dynamo of an instructor began by pointing out that there was "a man here" as we started. I soon realized why. The salsa steps (dip, up, back, up) were easy enough to follow along, but then she said -- as if we do this all the time -- "now, add the hips . . . " That's when I noticed that all the women seemed to inject a swagger depending on whether their feet were forward or back. For the life of me, I couldn't get it. I just kept stepping.
After that and some knee-out kicks (right knee up, swing outward, down, then left), we went straight into our circuit. We started by speed-walking two laps along the 4" wide cement curb of a turnabout median in the road ("Remember!" she shouts, "there's crocodiles in the middle there . . . and they're HUNGRY!").
From there, we ran back to the three rows of bike racks. They're sorta shaped like triangles with their points buried in the cement. Well, we all had to crawl INSIDE the row of triangles and up one row, squeeze our way out, run to the second, squeeze our way in, crawl through, and so forth.
After that, we all lined up along a row of yoga mats and downward dogged our way to a human tunnel. The person at the end had to crawl through the tunnel and attach themselves to the other end. I apologized to everyone (remember, I'm the only male) in advance before crawling in.
After that, it was skip rope time. Well, skip rope and running time. Well, skip rope and running two laps of the outside of this basketball court time.
Turns out that the city workers DIDN'T forget a dozen manhole covers, as I thought I saw as I made my way to our usual starting point. They were wobble boards -- twelve of them -- and, after skip-lapping, we had to do three squats per board, making our way toward the road.
Where we then set off for our run!
Cross the street, down the road, cross the incredibly busy street ("Jumping jacks while you're waiting!"), down the huge hill, up the huge hill, turn around, down the huge hill the other way, up the huge hill the other way . . .
TURN AROUND, back down the huge hill, back up the huge hill, turn around, back down the huge hill the other way, back up the huge hill the other way, jumping jacks, busy street, down the road, other street, and back to camp. Yeesh!
It was ball time. One knee on the ball, bend with the other leg and, on the way up, curl (both weights!) with one arm. Then switch. Then -- I'm not sure how she possibly expected this to happen -- we were to sit on our balls, legs spread and feet pointing back duckie style . . . and stay balanced WITHOUT touching the ground.
Oh, while doing curls with our weights.
There were a lot of yelps, but nobody touched the ground . . . with their face. We all, however, usually had at least one toe on the ground the whole time.
Then, it was time to play superman. We partnered up lying stomach-down on our ball, and pulled against each other, straight armed, by pulling our crossed resistance bands apart. Much ow. Extra ow 'cause I was partnerless, so got to pair up with our terminator of an instructor.
We then put our ball between our knees and gave it lots of little squeezes. That was easy, so I was probably doing it wrong. Not to worry, my pain came immediately next when we all lay down on our backs, put one heel onto our ball, and used it to push our butts off the ground and kick the sky with our other foot.
Then, it was ball-between-the-feet time, while still on our backs. Above us, down and up, twist and twist. I heard one *thud* as somebody let go of their ball with their feet to have it land on their face.
That was the end of the ball work. My ball kept rolling away to say hi to a campmate.
Still on our backs, we did 30 bicycles, which are twist sit-ups to those who may know them by that name. Then, we turned around to do the same thing on our stomachs. Plank, hold, knee-to-elbow, wash, rinse, repeat.
The final blow was -- after all this insanity -- to hold our plank position. Longest. Minute. Of. My. Life.
Thank everything for yoga cooldowns.
So, that's how it went tonight without Tiny. Hey, I didn't die. That's good, isn't it?”
Very good indeed! Haha, I think he was the most traumatized by the salsa dancing. Oh, and the quiz he mentioned? It's from my new You on a Diet Book which is really very interesting and informative thus far.