Once, Twice, Three Times as Sore

This weekend, as I explained on my own blog, I made the terrible decision to double up my work outs. I obviously didn't think that one through. But the choice was made and I'm a bit of a strange bird when it comes to certain things, so on Monday morning I dragged myself out of bed for 100's Part Un.
Fortunately McD revised the 100's to "I Love the 80's" which is kind of weird because no one actually loved the 80's and no one actually loves the I Love the 80's workout.

(If that last sentence made no sense, I can explain: I have zero brainpower left in me currently)

I made it through I Tolerate the 80's and then went to "work" and tried to use my arms. My coworkers always know when I go to boot camp because I hobble around like Nostradamus. By 5:30 (that's PM, not AM), it was time to change and go to Part Deux. I changed at the office and then came to the terrifying realization that in my half-asleep stupor when I was packing my bag, I'd forgotten...socks.

I have one coworker who is...well, for lack of a better word, he's a push over. And he knows it, so I can say it on here. So I went over to him - "Maaaaattt..." Matt turned around from his computer and looked at me, knowing I wanted something. "Can I have your socks?"

I think he was just glad I wasn't making him fix the copy machine or get down something heavy from storage, because he said "You really want my socks?" and started untying his shoes.
So we turned them inside out, I asked him a few questions regarding foot hygiene, and then put them on. Putting on damp socks is like putting on a wet bathing suit - just. plain. disgusting.

Some people might have seen not having socks as an opportunity to skip out on the evening class. But I knew no one would believe me if I said I forgot my socks and I couldn't wuss out on my first day of two-a-days.

Tomorrow I have another round of two-a-days and will be bringing a bag to work with me again. When I was in 4th grade I forgot my homework at home one day. When I called my mom at work to see if she'd bring it to me, she told me no and said "I bet you won't forget it again."

Tomorrow I will not be forgetting to pack socks.

How To Kill a Camper in 100 Reps or Less

I woke up the Monday morning after the Race for the Cure feeling like someone had punched me in both eyes. I think this was mainly allergies, but allergies were definitely not to blame for my hamstrings feeling like they had reduced in length by half. So I decided that I was going to sleep in the extra heavenly two hours and try to make the evening boot camp class instead.

Last night we did an Indian run, which is when everyone runs in a single-file line. The person at the front carries a baton and the last person in line attempts to sprint/crawl their way to the front and take the baton. This process repeats for the duration of a mile, or until the group falls apart and everyone just shuffles along in a mass of bodies.

After the Indian run, we started doing what Stephanie calls "The 100's," which I think stands for how many sets of each upper-body exercise you do, but also represents the number of times I wanted to throw up during the work out. It's kind of humorous that anyone would look at me with the expectation that I could do 100 push ups and then assume I would ever be able to move again, let alone work out.

The ten sets of ten push ups were definitely the most miserable part, where you would squeeze out about six and then the last four would simply be an out of body experience. In between each set, I curled up into a ball and pretended I was on a reality show where I would win a million dollars after all this. But the truth of the matter was that I was really just not going to be able to wash my hair that night or lift a beer up to my mouth since my arms ceased to function somewhere between the 17th and 20th push up I did.

I suggested we take our exercise down a notch, maybe the "I love the 90's" or the "Roaring 20s" work out but Stephanie didn't seem to think that was such a good idea. Instead we continued on with 100s. At one point, she asked us all how we were feeling but no one managed to say anything. I personally think that was because of one of two reasons: 1) We were all too busy counting, hoping we were almost to 100 or 2) We couldn't come up with any words that wouldn't break the "no four letter words" class rule.