i went to a bootcamp class yesterday at noon. i did it on a dare, sort of. a dare and a handshake. m, the person in question, held up his end of the bargain, so seeing as how i've grown into being a man of my word these days (finally!), i showed up. i wasn't looking forward to it. boot camp sounds like something impossible will be asked of me physically. but he'd lost weight in the weeks since i'd seen him and he blamed it on boot camp so out of curiousity, i went.
the class was crowded with all types and filled to the brim with enthusiasm and dread. and one of the mommies was there. (and she'd lost weight, too.) i was genuinely surprised to see this much of a horde on a wednesday in the middle of the day, but stranger things have been known to happen. i threw myself into every move. while i was doing each one, i remember thinking, this isn't so bad. at least i didn't feel like my chest was about to cave in, a la gennaro's boxing class. when i woke up the next day, i could hardly move -- so of course, i went to that aforementioned boxing session. because i want progress. because i missed it. but mostly because the only cure that i know of for that level of soreness is a solid workout.
and then comes the blind fury, when i'm swinging my arms and doing those combinations and my arms are trembling under the weight of me with every push up, like i'm palsied. at least my midsection isn't doing that anymore. progress.
towards the end of class after negro wore me out with mitts and the room was clearing out, this dark haired girl looks at me and goes, you aren't sweating enough. she looked like someone had hosed her down, and she was beet-red in the face.
you look like i feel, i said.
it's not that you aren't sweating, she went on. you have this overall sheen going, and she waved her hand in my general direction and said, but it's not really sweat.
i'm glistening, i mumbled. that's what i do.
once i explained my boot camp handicap, we introduced ourselves. whaddya know -- her name is zoe (i have a niece named zoe!) and she's a musical theater performer (non-union) and a 20-something nyu graduate. we talked shop, had this running commentary going as negro and j were boxing that was hilarious and totally sexist and over the top and then we hit the showers.
she's got a non-union gig in new hamster, so she'll be gone for awhile. but she'll be in boot camp next week. and so will m. i liked it enough to go back. i'm sorry it took a dare to get me to do it.