This cold, rainy evening, I ran for the cover of the BCTG warehouse looking forward to a workout that would take the chill from my bones. Anything to escape the bitter reminder that Spring is not nearby.
One never knows what's in store at Boot Camps To Go. Oh, sure, sometimes they post the evening's workout on the wall. Though to comprehend the pain looming in the 45-minute horizon, one would have to be well-versed in the BCTG lingo. Spider-Man push-ups, Burpees, Y squats (indeed, why squat?), and tonight's Murph.
Murph? I have no clue what Murph stands for; my only guess is Man U R (in) Physical Hell.
As I perused the Murph lists (there were two), I panicked and desperately searched the wall for Murph 3...something 3...anything but what I saw before me. Because Murph involves running, as in outdoors—and on this particular evening, in the cold rain.
Once convinced that Mike and Laurel weren't joking, I opted for Murph 2: run 1/2 mile, 150 squats, 100 pushups, 50 pull-ups, and run another 1/2 mile.
Note: Murph 1 *doubled* the aforementioned. Shout out to Katy Z for tackling Murph 1!
As I ran/hobbled/grunted/panted in the rain, eyes watering from the cold, snot dripping down my face (a humiliation viewed by the drivers on Capital Circle), one thought kept me going: We are morphing.
I can see how Jo, Katy, and Hope's bodies are already showing the rewards of our WellQuest Challenge in just 2.5 weeks. They claim to see changes in mine. It's funny how these changes aren't as obvious to ourselves when we look in the mirror. Self-image can be a nasty demon—it may take a crucifix, a dark stairway and some split pea soup to exorcise. But, we CAN change our bodies. Just know that we will only do so within the confines of our genetic make-up.
By that I mean, we can improve our figures, but don't set unrealistic goals. For instance, my rear end is one of my most hated features. I can't diet my way to a firm ass, though a combination of exercise and diet will get me there. But, if I want a butt that looks like Pink's...I better call a plastic surgeon. I'm never going to have that junk in my trunk; it's physically impossible.
So, ladies, as we challenge ourselves and support one another, remember that we can't hold ourselves up to Photoshopped celebrities who have personal chefs, daily physical trainers, and strict managers. We are murphing and morphing into better versions of ourselves.