Priscilla- Stockholm Syndrome

Stockholm Syndrome is a strong psychological response sometimes seen in abducted hostages, in which the hostage shows signs of loyalty to the hostage-taker, regardless of the danger or risk in which they have been placed. I am almost certain I have developed this. Simply because in the past 7 weeks I have endured such physical pain at the hands of one man, yet I keep coming back for more. Now I even consider him a friend!
Being at the midpoint is even harder for me than when I first started this challenge. As "my captor" tells us, we must push ourselves if we are to see any results. Being highly competitive (with myself)I find myself reaching for heavier weights and am almost embarrassed to think of the day I grabbed those two pound dumbells. I have not reached the point of hitting two a days (yet). However it is crossing my mind more and more. Once my schedule lightens a bit, I am sure I will at least attempt them. So while I am no Patty Hearst, I am definitely hooked.

Priscilla- Mmmmmm Stew!

stew
1   /stu, styu/ Show Spelled Pronunciation [stoo, styoo]
–verb (used with object)
1. to meld a mixture of things by simmering or slow boiling.
–verb (used without object)
2. to undergo cooking by simmering or slow boiling.
3. to fret or worry.
4. to feel uncomfortable due to a hot, humid, stuffy atmosphere, as in a closed room; swelter.
–noun
5. a preparation of meat, fish, or other food cooked by stewing, esp. a mixture of meat and vegetables.
6. Informal. a state of agitation, uneasiness, or worry.
7. a brothel; whorehouse.


Origin:
1350–1400; ME stewen, stuwen to take a sweat bath < MF estuver, v. deriv. of estuve sweat room of a bath
French estuver, possibly from Vulgar Latin *extūpāre, *extūfāre

Take your pick of any of the above definitions. That would describe tonight's class.
How, you may ask? I'll tell you.

I went to class this evening already wondering if I was going to be able to make myself workout hard, given the fact that I was so sore, achy, and stiff from the week. (stew definition 3 & 6)

We were informed at the very onset to be ready for a hodgepodge. A veritable olio of exercises.The rational being that since our entire bodies were already sore, we should make them sorer. So with trepidation I grabbed my mat, my step, my jump rope, AND my weights. This recipe called for a pinch of cardio, a dash of abs, some arms and a whole lot of leg work. (stew definition 1 & 5)

As we started, and the doors were closed, and it became very warm in the room. The air conditioner was not set at it's usual frigid temperature due to the chilly days we had been having. My ears began to burn. My ears have a tendency to get beet red and become uncomfortably hot. I began to swelter.(stew definition 2 & 4)

As the workout continued and I soldiered on, I began to notice the sounds coming from around the room. Grunting, panting, and moaning sounds. Heavy breathing and pained sounds. I lay on my mat and started giggling. It sounded like...

stew definition 7

I'm feeling the burn!

So first off, I have to tell all of you thank you for your show of support to me tonight. Your words of encouragement and just letting me vent helped me more than you would begin to think. Rick; thanks.

Tonights workout was fantastic. I upped my weight to six pounds, and even though I was seriously feeling the burn, I lasted through all of the exercises (yeah, me!) and didn't moan and groan. Until the abs.. oh, the abs. Even though we did some hard exercises today, we did not do The Plank (from hell) or The Grapevine (sounds harmless, right? hardly). Not only did I try every single exercise, I did them all for the most part. We had alot of laughs, alot of "oy"'s from my corner, and I left the workout quite happy.

Tomorrow my goal is to stick it out through both sessions. Try? Most definitely. Succeed? It may very well happen.

Priscilla- Confessions

I've had this ever growing suspicion for the past 2 weeks. It started innocently enough, a little small talk, a few pleasantries, some joking around. Suddenly the mood shifted, he became a little more demanding every time I saw him. I gave in and did what he wanted.
It bordered on the obscene and masochistic. But it was new and exciting for me and he left me in a state of exhausted invigoration.
Tonight though, he was completely different. He had even shaved off the beard that I was so accustomed to seeing. There was a glint in his eyes. One I hadn't seen before. It made me a little afraid of what he would be asking me to do for him tonight.
When our session was through, after all the pain I endured, after 22 flights of stairs, he stood there grinning. It all became clear to me.


Rick Cain is trying to kill me.

Priscilla- 25 Things

25 things I have learned since working out.


1. A four point push up is the devil.
2. Green juice starts to taste good after a week.
3. My toes go numb mid way through a workout.
4. I can't keep my legs 6 inches off the ground very well.
5. Hip bones don't reappear after two weeks.
6. Muffin tops don't go away either.
7. There are no cute work out clothes.
8. Doing side squats up stairs looks retarded.
9. Medicine balls are still around.
10. I have forgotten how to jump rope.
11. That "plank" move should be deemed criminal.
12. Rick is not Satan.
13. Sports bras give you a uni-boob.
14. Leg lifts and squats make some people fart.
15. Some exercises are actually fun.
16. Most are not.
17. Going up 6 flights of stairs with a weighted ball over your head is scary.
18. Giving up wine with dinner is hard.
19. A Roma tomato has 17 calories.
20. Noodle arms and legs is not a good feeling, especially when driving.
21. My shoes weigh 1 pound, my fat does not.
22. Getting up at 5 AM is not any easier after 2 weeks.
23. V8 juice only tastes good with vodka in it.
24. I am not as big of a ninny as I thought.
25. No matter what, going up those stairs is NEVER easy.

Gym Class Heroes

Opening the door this morning felt like a slap in the face. A cold hard slap in the face! I went through my mental checklist. Water-check, ankle brace-check, car warmed- check, Facebook status updated-check. Having everything important done, I bundled up and headed to class, excited to be going after a 2 day absence.

Class reminded me of ninth grade gym without the kid that always smelled like BO. We were given a number and matched up with the person having the same number. Who doesn't remember having to do that as a kid? I always got stuck with Richard Thomason Jr. (see photo posted) Let me tell you, I got the raw end of the deal in ninth grade. After having to endure a year of PE with Richard, the Gym Gods smiled upon me and gave me the BEST partner today! Class was fun yet we were still challenged. Stairs were limited to ONLY one trip up! Albeit whilst holding a medicine ball over your head. And the best news was given to us at the end! Next week is bring a friend to class week! Now comes the hard part, having to pick who gets to come with me!

Goldbricking

Noun: goldbricking 'gówld`bri-king
Usage: N. Amer

1. The evasion of work or duty
- shirking, slacking, soldiering, goofing off [N. Amer]


I don't believe in making excuses. The second I hear one coming on from someone I stop listening. Now mind you, I realize some are valid. But most of what I hear is goldbricking.

In all the years of watching my boys play sports, I found there is one on every team. A "goldbricker".
One in particular comes to mind. A boy on my "little guy's" wrestling team. This kid would always go out on the mat and eventually just give up early into the first period. He would then storm off the mat gesturing and throwing a tantrum making comments like "I almost had him". I would sit there and think what baloney I was watching and it would just get me mad. If this kid put a little more effort into wrestling and less in the after show he might have gotten a pin. One thing I have always told my kids is don't EVER be a goldbricker.

Careful what you say because it might come back and bite you.

When I started this Skinny Challenge and was filling out the required paper work, I mentioned to Rick that I was just coming off having a cast on my ankle for six weeks. Torn ligaments are no picnic. The thing that irritates my ankle most...steps. So here we are approaching week three and let me tell you those steps seriously kill me. When I feel like I want to make an excuse, I think of that kid on Stein's wrestling team. I won't be that kid. Ever.

Who new Commodore lyrics could be so prolific?

She's a brick----house
Mighty might just lettin' it all hang out
She's a brick----house
The lady's stacked and that's a fact,
ain't holding nothing back.

This brick house isn't made of gold.

Priscilla- Six Inches Is More Than I Can Take!

My morning after...a two hour workout from the night before brought me much more huffing and puffing than I anticipated.
It brought an hour of cardio. But packed in those little sixty minutes was an hour of step, a step twice as high as I had been using. Yipee, I had graduated! It also included the ultimate gift, a whopping 15 flights up (and eventually) down those stairs. All done on little bird legs that aren't used to such rigors. Walking on cobblestone in 4 inch stilettos, no problem! The workout mentioned above, "Houston, we definitely have a problem"!

The cherry on the little pain cupcake was the final cool down. "Cool down" in Rick Cain's vocabulary means ab work. Who knew I would learn a new language on top of losing pounds? (Don't forget "Water break=6 flights") I am well on my way to being quadrilingual!
But I digress, back to the refreshing sounding cool down. Ah, nothing says relax like lying on your back and keeping your legs elevated 6 inches off the ground for 1 minute. Excruciating! My legs however, were a bit higher than the required six inches. I had this pointed out to me by my trainer crawling underneath them saying "That's the biggest six inches I've ever seen". (Insert joke here)

Priscilla- Did You Hear That?

Day 10-

Yesterday was a long day. Between meetings, and dealing with a not so pleasant person, it put me in a mood.
A hunger induced bitchy mood. A head bashing, trash talking, I am jonesing for some pate, crabby kind of mood. Green juice just doesn't replace the loveliness that is a crusty baguette smeared with some fromage du chevre and a beautiful glass of port.

On the bright side it was also my baby boy's birthday. By "baby boy" I mean he is twenty three. My baby opted to go out with his little lady as opposed to spending the evening with mother. He's normal that way. So I found myself free for the evening class. Why not, I thought. Plus knowing that "Jimmy Leg" and I already had plans to attend a little cocktail soiree Thursday night it would make up for missing Thursday night's class.

Being the glutton, I prepared myself to stay for both sessions. The first hour kicked my ass literally. Glute kicks will do that to you. Squats and lunges up stairs will really do that to you. The second hour was a "cake walk". We were going around in a circle and performing the torturous exercises Rick had laid out for us. Needless to say I didn't win a cake yet I still walked away with a muffin top (not my idea of a prize). But I did manage to get some of that anger out by visualizing the aforementioned not so pleasant person's head in place of the 25 lb medicine ball we were hurling at the ground. Eek! That hunger rage was really kicking in!

Back in the welcome respite of home, nestled in my lovely bed, talking over the day's events with "JL", facing complete exhaustion, it happened. The following words rolled off of my precious husband's lips..."Do you want me to massage your inner thighs?"
It was the scream heard all over Macon. A resounding "NOooooooo.....!!!!!".

Priscilla- Week 2 is better than 2 Weak

What a difference a week makes-

Last Monday morning was filled with dread. The anticipation of the unknown coupled with having to depart my little warm cocoon at 5 AM was such a terrible feeling.
This Monday morning I still hated leaving my warm bed. As I lay there, I was mentally preparing myself for starting the morning off by running up the 6 flights of stairs. (The gods above must have heard the collective pleas of all us Fit Campers and took pity upon us. We did not ascend nary a stair in any way shape or form!) I was also reluctant to get up simply because I knew the bathroom tiles would be like tiny ice cubes under my bare feet. But I hopped up and was almost dare I say, looking forward to what pain Cain would bring.

As class progressed and we did some of the same things as the previous Monday and I reflected back. Last week, I was thinking "WTF am I doing here!". Today as I lay on that mat still in pain, I thought "I can do this". Mind you I don't enjoy that awful burning feeling I get in my little noodle arms and in my still non existent abs. But it does feel good to actually get out and DO something! Maybe my "milf" isn't turning sour after all.

Chris: Addicted to weights that are too heavy for me

It's ego. I know it is. Whenever Rick tells us to grab some weights, I go for the ones that I think will make me look like I'm stronger than I am.

But that's not my only problem. It's that I'd really rather be asleep... or watching a movie... or eating dinner... or having my skin buffed with a sand-blaster and dipped in a pool of alcohol that's filled with electric eels. Well, that's just part one of my problem. Part two is that I can't pace myself when I'm doing the workouts, so I go a little overboard. By the end of the hour, I'm drained.

I read all these comments from my fellow bootcampers and I hear it during the torture we endure, and I think, "Why did I ever start doing this?" But just like their stories inspired me to get back on the fitness wagon, their reasons for doing this keep me going.

If it weren't for the mother of two doing this as a way to do things for herself... or my own mother gutting it out every class... if it wasn't for the couples doing it for each other and their health... or the cancer survivor of six years... or any one else in there, I'd have put down those heavy ass 15lb dumbbells, which are way heavier than they look after an hour of use, and walked away. When, at the end of 11 weeks, I look and feel better than I ever have, I'll probably have a lot of nice things to say about these folks.

But for now, I'm cussing you under my breath as hard as I am Rick since it's your "inspiration" that got me into this painful mess in the first place.

(Seriously though, thanks.)

Priscilla is just wondering...

Day 4

Today was my first evening session. I wasn't sure what to expect but I knew the STAIRS would be waiting. Taunting me with their cementiness. They didn't disappoint! But just like women put the pain of childbirth out of their heads, I am doing the same tonight when it comes to the stairs.

Earlier this afternoon I had decided I would commit to both sessions. I did this despite having a gallery cocktail party to attend with OPEN BAR and FOOD! That is HUGE for me! I am a bit of a "party girl". Not in a Crazy Brit Brit or La Lohan way though. I was told by my fab friend Terrell that I was SoChi's "Holly Golightly". A title I covet! But I prefer to add without the crazy and not married to a Buddy Ebson type. "Jimmy Leg" is no yokel!

I made it through the exhausting 2 hours. I only swore mildly (I was in too much pain to hurl profanities), and I didn't see Satan whenever Rick spoke.

Upon returning home I thought brown rice and fish NEVER looked so good. But then I really do like brown rice and fish.
Then as I was standing in the shower for a VERY long time, scalding water soothing my achy muscles, I thought to myself...

"I wonder if the 11th Hour is going to pay our water and gas bill these next 3 months?" and
"Can I get a stair epidural ?"

Priscilla-Purgatory is 6 flights of stairs

Day 3

I awoke at 5 AM Wednesday without the trepidation I carried on Monday. Still sore, but feeling optimistic especially since "Jimmy Leg" was relatively quiet the previous night.
I had survived 2 whole days without my limbs snapping off. An accomplishment for anyone!

Walking into the work out room I took my place and then was told to pick out some hand weights. Mind you, I am not strong at all.
The heaviest thing I lift is a shopping bag and a cocktail. So with that in mind I did the only sensible thing, I chose 2 pound weights.
We started out with the usual warm ups and then lifting the weights over our heads and up and out...you get the drill.
I grinned to myself thinking how clever of me to get 2 pound weights. No sooner than the grin left my face, Rick (our trainer, drill master, and tormentor) called me out!
He asked "Wouldn't you like to get heavier weights?".
I politely replied "No thank you".

Then there was a blur of circuit training, a 20 lb medicine ball (I hadn't seen one of those since PE class 1976), waving weights over my head, and 3 trips up those damn stairs.
Damn those stairs. I'll be the one with the jimmy leg tonight.

Priscilla says "My PHAT is turning into FAT!"

Sleep deprivation can lead you to do strange things. For example the presence of a hacking holiday cough and a 200 lb man snoring next to me who also is cursed with a "jimmy leg" must have caused me to respond to the Fat Camp Challenge in the 11th Hour.

I was thrilled when heard I would be one of the participants. But as I lay in bed this morning waiting for that 5 AM alarm to ring, I found making excuses not to get out of bed. I decided I would go to the evening class instead. Then the "jimmy leg" next to me kicked in, making the departure from memory foam and down all the easier. Driving in the foggy darkness I knew this would be no "piece of cake", or in my case, it's a hunk of cheese. But I wasn't prepared for the serious ass kicking I would receive. I found myself wondering why I thought this public humiliation would be a good idea?

As I lay on the gym floor, doing all kinds of crazy "scissor" motions with my legs, the reality of these next eleven weeks hit me, much like the searing pain I was feeling in my abs.
So after muttering a barrage of obscenities, I tried to focus on how it would all get easier over time. That, and thinking about the banging bod I would hopefully come away with didn't hurt either.

Public Humiliation is a great motivator, and Vanity is a bigger bitch than me!

Pat: the Early Bird

Session 1 down! cardio and abs for an hour, brutal. Can barely lift my arms above my head and don’t know how I’m going to hold my fork tonite at dinner. Rick says it gets better, good. I’m in for the long haul. Oh yea, the ‘water break.’ Didn’t know you had to climb 6 flights of stairs to get your water. Cruel.