Apparently wakin' up at 0430 was not what I needed to worry about. It's a quarter to seven and I'm back in bed, shakin' in my pants. Ok, not really...but, kind of.
I've done so many push-ups this morning, if it continues like this for six weeks I'll have popeye arms by September! My body aches, I nearly threw-up twice, and the instructor ended with, "when you sleep tonight you'll hurt like hell." Oh, yeah, thanks! As they yelled at me about what I ate and made me do ten push-ups for everything bad on my food list (did you know hard-boiled eggs are bad?), they smeared camouflage on all of our faces, so not only did I look like the most out-of-shape person in the gym, I now looked like this...
Looking at the older PTs on phase II I'm encouraged that I'm going to have a rockin' body soon...but I'm already dreading tomorrow. I told the new PTs as soon as they plop that thirty-pound vest on my already-sore shoulders tomorrow I'm sure to collapse. Keep your fingers crossed that doesn't actually happen!
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