There are some things I don’t partake in, mainly due to cultural and personality differences, as well as physical limitations. These things include, but are not limited to: Burning Man, eXXXtreme sports, sporting events in general, prostitution, organized religion, polyamory, and sci-fi. But sometimes life puts you in situations that disturb your comfort zone, and in much the same way that my new job led me to attend a gamer convention, a long illness and sudden distaste for gyms led me to Bootcamp SF.
Did you know that you can end up enjoying things you once scorned?! No one is more shocked than me by the fact that I love bootcamp. I am no stranger to working out, but I am a lazy, lazy exerciser. I don’t push myself and I think the runner’s high is a deluded interpretation of one’s body going into toxic shock from lack of oxygen.
I’m in week 3 and already I have more energy, my pants fit better (buh-bye gunt!), my old muscles are bulging out again, and I actually look forward to getting up early to go run around Golden Gate Park. What’s also nice about the group outdoor exercise thing, besides the really nice trainers and the sense of camaraderie, is that the homeless denizens of GG Park unwittingly serve as motivators and coaches!
It might be the fact that we’re essentially trespassing on their living rooms and bedrooms, or it might just be that they really want to see us succeed. For example, when the miserable, chubby teenage runaway girl says to us “Do you really think you’re gonna lose weight doing that? Good luck!”, I interpret that as “YOU CAN DO IT!!! TAKE IT TO THE MAX!!!”
And when the mentally ill homeless lady wearing a sleeping bag like it’s a pashmina screams at us for blocking the path, I know it’s cuz she wants to encourage us to go faster! When I hear her scream “You are all fucking bimbo fags from Iowa, you fucking assholes!”, I know that she’s really saying “DON’T GIVE UP, KEEP ON BRINGING IT!”
I’m a bimbo fag from Iowa and I fucking love Bootcamp. #$^%@*^#*@!!!
-Rob’s Karaoke Peep