On New Year's Eve I made a resolution to try something new in each month of 2012... and then blog about it. Here's my entry for January.
I work in a hospital... and twice a year we get the following all-staff e-mail from our fitness director:
Are you looking to jump start your workout?
Lacking
motivation and need a boost?
Take the Boot Camp Challenge!
Boot Camp is an intense exercise class that focuses on
all areas of fitness to include muscular strength, balance, agility,
flexibility and endurance through a combination of strength training and
aerobic activities. Classes are packed with lots of variety and tons of
fun!
I generally delete such e-mails, deducing that any person who classifies "intense exercise" as "tons of fun" knows not what they profess. But in this particular case, I made the mistake of mentioning such activity to my wife - who very promptly encouraged me to sign-up. Naturally I resisted... until she threw the whole 12-new-things-in-2012 promise in my face.
My aversions to Boot Camp were admittedly sophomoric, though not at all unfounded:
1) I don't care for exercise.
2) I don't care for people watching me while I exercise.
3) And I especially don't care for women watching me while I exercise.
(I chalk it all up to phys ed in high school, where there was a solid partition between the girls' side of the gym and the boys' side of the gym. We could hear the girls on the other side playing basketball and volleyball and badminton, but we were never allowed to intermingle... which, again: I was fine with.)
So with my wife's encouragement and this blog weighing on my mind, I signed-up for Boot Camp. My assistant (a woman) informed me that she was joining, as did our Marketing Director (yet another woman). The trainer was a male (who I pictured wearing army fatigues and a green beret), and the initial rumor was that more than fifty people had signed-up... meaning I could very easily stand toward the back and pretend like I wasn't even there. What a relief!
Of course I showed-up for the first session in my shorts and t-shirt only to discover that the fifty rumored participants was actually eight... and that of those eight, only one (i.e. yours truly) was blessed with a Y-chromosome.
UGH!
I knew I'd better develop a sense of humor... and quick. People do appreciate humility, after all; and I reasoned that if nothing else, these seven ladies had to at least respect the fact that I was willing to step out of the comfort-zone that I (and many other men in their mid-30's) inhabit. (Plus it helped that I out-ranked all of them work-wise - so if they did make fun of me, at least they wouldn't dare do it to my face.)
But as awkward as those first few minutes were in that illogically anxious mind of mine, it really wasn't - and isn't - that big of a deal.
Our little group of eight troopers just reached the half-way point of Boot Camp and I can honestly admit that any preconceived notions have been completely thrown out the window. My formula for success, in fact, is quite simple:
I go to Boot Camp. I exercise. I get winded, out of breath. The ladies laugh at me; I laugh at myself... and its all over in 45 minutes.
All in all: its a piece of cake... even if I am the only guy.
