Well, I did it. I survived my first day of boot camp, and as the instructor, um, instructed-I didn't walk.

There was quite a range of people there, it seemed like at least half were returnees, and were talking about how their butts had changed, and such. Even still, I was in at least the middle of the pack, and I think I did better than a lot of them. The tall, thin guy that looked like a natural runner was walking after 3 or 4 minutes, the 'big-boned' fella with a beer gut found every excuse to get up from the exercise and talk to the trainer about something-his shoes hurting, or form, or whatever he could think of not to just do it, and the frat-boy-with-too-much-product looked like this was just his warm-up, doing the harder versions of all of the upper-body work and smirking. Punk. He'll get his, I'm sure. I'm of the school that if you blend in, you won't get picked on, and thus made to be even more sore than you would be anyway. And you would.

We ran, sprinted, dipped, pushed and ran some more, and finished with some decent stretching. We only did the upper-body workouts, which I'm not good at. I'm scared because I think today will be lower-body and abs. Ouch. I went straight home to a glass of chocolate soy milk (studies say it's best for muscle recovery), advil and an ice bath. My heartbeat was at least as high getting into the less than 40 degree water as when I was sprinting on the track an hour earlier. It was pretty bad getting my legs in, and then realized that I had to keep going, to get my arms and shoulders (bound to be the most painful, as they're the most wimpy) under the water. I kept thinking of the Titanic, for some reason...maybe it was the ice cube or two floating by, threatening to make me crack.

I wasn't as blotto as I thought I would be. I actually had a decent dinner, did a few things around the house that didn't require lifting my arms above my head (I've adapted well to that today, also), and got my stuff ready to go back. Today. Wait-I'm paying for this...??