The Show Must Go On

I'm fat.

I also crave attention, apparently.

I'm one of two people in the pilot episode of Ask Rocco: Bootcamp.

Rocco's Website

So for the next six weeks, Rocco is going to be kicking my butt Monday-Friday in an attempt to make my big booty the size it's supposed to be.
Yesterday I basically had it handed to me on a massive silver platter. I was pathetic. Worse than pathetic. I was a sad, sorry, useless, sweaty, whimpering lump of gelatin by the end of our workout yesterday. It was really bad.
I had no idea I was THAT unhealthy.
I mean, I knew I was unhealthy, just not THAT much.
So I tried harder today. And it went better. Not much better, but I recovered faster.

It was the most amazing thing; I woke up REALLY sore yesterday morning from the fit test earlier in the week, so I wasn't really looking forward to the workout, but THIS morning, my soreness wasn't nearly as bad as it was yesterday. The workout worked the soreness out. It was amazing. THIS is what it felt like when I was a gym junkie. THIS is the feeling I was addicted to. THIS is what I strove for every day.

I love THIS.

Things are going good.

My sprints still suck. Breathing is still really hard. My upper body strength is laughable. But! I was able to do situps, which really threw Rocco, because "you have so much fat on your stomach, I had no idea you could actually do them."
Yeah, that's right. I LOVE situps. I love crunches. I love them. There was a period a couple months ago where I was doing 500 crunches a night. Yeah, that's right.
So there.

I love, love, love the weak-jello feeling. It's good to be back.