As usual, on Sunday we went to family bootcamp. We were given a large wooden post each and were told to run to the beach. The PT apologised because it would be a little tough for me, being a girl and all. My husband stuck up for me saying 'I wouldn't worry about her, she's stronger than me'. Not true, but I appreciated it anyway. My chest puffed out a little, my back straightened and my biceps flexed. I was prepared to prove I could keep up with the men.
100+ push ups
Too many duck walks and lunges
Bicep curls, shoulder presses and more with the wooden posts.
It was time to head back. I noticed people were taking it easy. A power house like me needs to run. I grabbed my post, held it high over my head and took off. I ran around the Personal trainer, zipped passed everyone else and got into a nice rhythm.
I felt like Commando.
Until a car surprised me. I jumped out of it's way and missed the gutter and went arse up with my post. My ankle was all scratched, bruise and bleeding, but nothing compared to my ego when I realised the rest of the bootcampers could still see me.
Don't you hate that.