Hut, 2 ...3....4....

I decided about a month ago that I was in a physical slump. I have been working out since the prime age of 19, was a fitness instructor for many moons and have always had gym memberships, but nothing was peaking my interest.

I have done yoga. It was fun and still can be, but I sometimes need a little more aggression. I have been a runner, but that gets old. Last year I discovered the beauty and wonderment of Runyon Canyon. After doing that hike about 2,000 times, I could walk the walk with a blindfold. I then adopted myself in the routine of doing Spin. You know spin -- the riding a bike for an hour and never really getting anywhere? Precisely. It was fun for about four months and then slowly became drudgery. I then partook in a weight/step class that was REALLY fun and then again, became boring after a few months of the same old/same old.

Last month I'd just had it. Time to be done with the gym. One day I just had enough. Very nice gym, don’t get me wrong, but I was starting to get that illness of driving to work, getting into a building, getting out of work, driving to another building, driving home and then getting into yet another building. Tomb-illness, I suppose.

I killed off my membership. Blam. Dead.

As I walked away from the gym, I thought of what I would possibly do with my time. Walking is a great last resort for me, but I knew that wouldn't be enough.

I decided that I would do something I'd thought about since my days in Chicago. I used to see people doing the work-outs on the lakefront and thought they were crazy.

I decided to be that crazy: I joined Bootcamp.

Stipulations up front: No booze for the month. No desserts. Call time, 6 a.m. at the of the La Brea Tar Pits.

Typical morning (M,W,F): Wake up at 5:35 a.m. no sh**. Wake up, brush teeth (as a way to make friends), change into work-out garb. Drive 9 minutes to park. Be ready by 6 with water and weights. Chatter with some of the other crazy folks and prepare for butt-kicking. We'd run about 2-3 miles and then do weights or sometimes these lung-pumping relay things that consist of running with your knees up, jumping with medicine balls, doing jumping jacks and all other sorts of torture. Some mornings after our run, we run up and down stairs, do lunges across the top of the stairs and then (flail) run, grab our weights and do all sorts of weight-bearing exercises. Sometimes we'd lie in the grass, with the hungry, sweat-hungry gnats attacking, but you'd just bear with it because it was all in the name of getting it done.

What's been interesting:

I am NEVER bored. The hour flies by.

We don't do a million sets of weights, but maybe two sets of 15. But we change it up. All.the.time.

The gentlemen that runs it, "The Major," runs with us and pushes us. Its this weird competition yet, there are no feelings of anyone trying to outdo another.

The running is actually peaceful.

We have time to streeeeetch.

And lemme just say, there is something bewildering and breathtaking about Los Angeles at 6 a.m. Its cool enough to be comfortable, but warm enough to still be in a tank top.

And....I leave feeling sore and like I actually did something.

FYI:

This past Friday was my last class -- I lost 2.5% body fat and 8 lbs. Niiice!!!

Not sure what's next, but I highly recommend checking out your local Bootcamp for a good, solid a**-kicking with lots of fun attached!!