Reunited, and it feels so good (translated: healthy co-dependence)

This is the third week I am back at boot camp, albeit, I have only done the once-a-week thing, as opposed to the two days I promised I would do.  But how can a girl turn down an invite to a VIP screening of "The Dark Knight" hours before it was nationally released?  That went last week's second session.  Well worth it.  For both the entertainment value and the social cachet it garnered amongst my co-workers.  Enough about that.  

When I heard the weather report in the morning, my stomach sunk a tad bit.  Mid 90s; hazy, hot and humid.  Can you imagine boot camp, without air-conditioning, in this sort of weather?  Sunil B. (who was supposed to make a return after 9 months) emailed me around 1PM, trying to make excuses about not feeling like going.  I responded with a saying that was written on one of the walls of PPBC - "The pain of discipline is nothing compared to the pain of regret."  Fitting.  He agreed and then for further effect, I threatened him with public humiliation.  That's what friends are for, aren't they?  Way to motivate.  I, on the other hand, on my way down from work, resorted to my 'ogle all the large people in the street' tactic.  I know, I'm going to hell. 

As I walked out of the elevator towards the front desk, I looked at the 6:00 class, trying to spot Sunil B. amongst the line of bear crawlers.  No dice.  What a punk!  I was definitely going to have to let him have it for him being a no-show.  

I went into the tent to change, and noticed a few new faces; I could tell they were newbies by the terrified looks on their faces, the tentative way they put on their camos, and the question that they all asked - how long have you been doing this?  Everyone expressed varying degrees of fear, and while I reassured them that we had all gone through it, and I attempted to be comforting, in a teeny tiny corner of the back of my mind, I felt this sense of schadenfreude.  A momentary flash of guilt by feeling extra empowered, drawing on their lack of experience - and giving them a bit of terror by strapping up my ankle and knee.  But of course, I eventually told them that my injuries were not boot camp related, and that the ankle brace was merely a precautionary measure.  

Sitting against the wall, waiting for class to begin, my mood further brightened as I saw Sunil pop out of the tent.  He came over, smiled at me and said "Wow, I haven't seen you in THAT getup in a long time."  Likewise.  It was a comforting sense of familiarity.  

At 7, we started running laps, and I trotted along, until DI Steve ordered me to pass the newbies (this gave me a boost - obviously he thought I could do better).  As usual, I lost count of the laps we were doing, passed by two people, using the ski-etiquette of "on your left."  As I passed by the others, I smacked the "TRUST" column with a burst of energy, self-willingness and determination all mixed into one (It was how Robin Williams described a certain feeling in "The Birdcage" - you have Fosse Fosse Fosse, Martha Graham Martha Graham, Michael Kidd Michael Kidd, Twyla Twyla, Madonna Madonna, but you keep it all in here.  I know, someone call Bellevue).  

Back to the PT area, Sunil trotted over to face me; I smiled and him and said, "Hi Hubby", fully intending to partner up with one another until Niscio ordered both of us to help a new recruit stretch out.  Fine and dandy, but when it was my turn, I experienced a major brain fart and did the 'legs in front of you' versus the Butterfly stretch, which attracted the attention of DI Steve who promptly hollered at me to wake up.  Oops!  And yet again, people seemed to be counting faster than they should have, so I just gave up trying.  

Given that there were new people in class, we all shouted out our names, and then launched into 50 jumping jacks.  Push-up position, and then hold your right leg up for a count of 15.  Groans all around from the newbies; I steeled myself.  Next, 15 pushups, which I opted to do in the 'girly' fashion, which didn't elicit any protest or hollering, but DI Steve made sure I was in correct form.  Up on our feet, high knees, then 30 seconds to get around the gym twice.  

I ended up towards the front of the PT area, and Sunil joined up with me again.  Lauren called for everyone's attention for the next exercise.  Squat thrusts (if you've been reading this whole blog, you know my feelings on that particular exercise).  And who of all 17 people in the class should she call upon to demonstrate?  Yep, me.  Irony, well, maybe not, more Murphy's Law, given how much I hated them.  It was a test, or more pressing of a button that made me feel the need to set a good example.  Thankfully she ordered me to perform each step of the exercise following her count, which was slow.  I demonstrated two times.  At that point, she assigned each of us individual target numbers to complete in two minutes.  I got 28.  Pacing myself, and focusing on my form, I managed 18.  

Next, two laps around the gym.  Push-up position, 25 mountain climbers.  Flipping on our backs, legs 6 inches off the floor.  Alternating left leg right leg up and down from 6 inches to 18 inches.  For a count of 20; admittedly I dropped my feet on the floor twice.  One lap around.  Next, military push-ups, which basically consist of up-down-up-down (total of 4 times).  But the challenge besides the up-down?  You weren't allowed to go down on your knees until after the 4th push-up.  Tough.  The routine that followed, separated by 1 lap, 10 push-ups, then 8, 6, and 4.  Rounded out with 2 laps around the gym.  

In the PT area, we partnered up, and Sunil and I faced each other yet again.  Lauren spotted us together, and with a big grin on her face, hollered, "You can't separate these two!  It's true love!  Husband and wife!"  Hilarious, isn't it?  Me and my gay husband being recognized in the eyes of PPBC.  We grabbed a mat, and then were directed to complete as many sit-ups in a 2 minute time window. I went first, might as well get it over with.  A pleasant surprise, I managed to do 61, with Sunil pushing me and motivating me to keep on going.  Changing positions, I sat on Sunil's feet - he got to 76 as I egged him on, encouraging him and telling him he could do it.  1 lap around, back to the PT area.  

Given that it was Monday, the focus was going to be on boxing, at least for the more experienced folks (the newbies were being directed through the obstacle course by Niscio).  I was partnered up with a woman whose lean muscular physique gave me pause.  She struck me as one of those 'Pilates bodies' types who could really pack a punch.  Our first exercise:  left-right jabs for 30 seconds (this doesn't sound like much, but believe me, when you're in the moment, it IS).  During this time, because of one mention from DI Steve, I focused way too much on my form (hands up around your face, then pivot your fist flat), and messed it up.  The same thing happened when in the past I thought too much about my golf swing, my ski stance, anything physical.  If you think about this stuff too much, inevitably you mess up.  You just have to let go and be in the moment, and lose yourself in sort of a zen fashion.  It's about following your gut.  

After completing the initial 30 seconds, without taking off the gloves or the pad (for my partner), we were ordered to do 25 star jumpers.  That was a bit tough; I decided not to bend as deep as I could, just to get through (eventually with more frequency, I will get better).  Then we were instructed on the next routine, which was 'ladders'.  This consists of a series of left-right jabs, with half a squat thrust (called a sprawl) thrown in between.  So, it goes like this - 2 left-right, sprawl, 4 left-right, then 6, then 8, then back to 6, then 4, then 2. After this series was completed, then we were to do 5 right leg kicks, then 5 left leg kicks.  That made up 1 set.  We were to do 3.  My partner was duly encouraging along the way, telling me how well I was doing, as I paced myself, in order to get through all 3 sets; she even went as far as to say she was impressed!  I have no idea why.  Finished the series with 1 lap around the gym.  Back to the PT area for the next set - 100 left-right jabs, 10 right leg kicks, 10 left leg kicks; then 50 left-right jabs, 5 right leg kicks, 5 left leg kicks.  Rounded out by running a lap.  Then the whole routine was repeated with my partner - with me holding the boxing pad.  Infused with a renewed energy, I egged her on.  Finished up with 25 box jumps.  Given my ankle issue (as well as vestigial knee problems - such a train wreck), I had to substitute with stepping up and stepping down.  

Not for nothing, you are made acutely aware of the fact that you are a woman when you are getting kicked in the chest, albeit minorly protected by  the thick pad.

Leaving the PT area, we were given our next task.  Over the hurdles, sprint back on the wood, repeat this 3 times.  DI Steve was yelling at Sunil because he was running on the shredded tires, and not on the wood.  After we finished this, we were supposed to run 1 lap, but my Swede-o came loose, so I had to forego the lap to re-lace it (boo hoo).  By the time I did it up, my squad was over by the windowsill, and DI Steve was hollering my name.  

At the windowsill, we were to do dips, interspersed with a lap around.  First 20, and when I ran the lap, my ankle started to twinge, and I asked for a substitute exercise.  So, after 10, I did squats while the rest of the squad ran around.  Then another 10, and we were finished.  

Over to the rock wall, I sandwiched myself in between Sunil and my boxing partner for 25 sit-ups.  Toward the end, I was shouting out in agony, but the two recruits flanking me did a terrific job of propping me up and keeping me going.  Showing the esprit de corps that I had so missed about boot camp.  

After class, Sunil and I went to the Chinese restaurant for our tried-and-true $5 "Diet Menu" entree of steamed chicken and vegetables with brown rice, sauce on the side.  It seemed rather fitting that we did this, given that this was the place where we used to go when we first started boot camp in 2006.  

I'll admit, I am very psyched that Sunil O. and I are back in class together, because we started together, and now are at such a level where we can truly inspire the other to go further.  I have no excuses when we are partners, and I think that's what I need to keep me going.  

Through The Fire, To The Limit, To The (Rock) Wall

WARNING: Like my attendance at boot camp, my blog entries have been on hold for a very long time, so I apologize in advance for any rustiness/boredom/lack of floridity that may ensue.  Consider this just a warm-up.

July 7:  It has been almost 6 months since I sustained the injury which put me on the PPBC sidelines.  I knew it was time to go back when I felt 100% better, and started to get increasingly anxious and irritated about the minutiae which in the past I could brush off with a good workout.  I was really excited to go back!  Especially due to periodic mentions from Sunil O. about how the DIs had really put him through the wringer - I missed that feeling.  

After work, as I walked down the familiar path from 34th to 21st Street, I did my best to distract myself by identifying all the different sources of heat that were assaulting me on all sides.  New York City wouldn't be all that bad if you were just walking down 7th Avenue with a gentle breeze in your face, making the mid-80s temperatures bearable.  However, add in the exhaust from city buses and trucks, external air conditioners, and subway grates, you find yourself vainly attempting to dodge the blasts.  It's what you imagine the environment would feel like if you were one of the crew aboard the starship Nostromo in the "Aliens" movies.  

The moment I would start to think about pulling out my cellphone, calling PPBC and delaying my return by another day, I would catch a glimpse of a morbidly obese individual, and would be snapped back on course, propelled by a mix of fear and minor disgust.  

The elevator opened up on the 2nd floor, and I walked up to the front desk, with a big smile on my face as Denise registered shock at the fact that I was actually there.  The fact that she had automatically cancelled me out of the session only made me realize how historically I was viewed as the bailer.  Managed my 5 pushups in the regular (non-knees) style.  As I looked at the class in progress, I noticed certain changes (the most obvious being the drill instructors, Niscio and Steve).  To keep the place as cool as possible, half the lights were off, and there were more fans around.  In and around the ladies' pup tent, there were full length mirrors, of the Crate and Barrel variety.  Even the bathrooms were different - there was now a distinction between the ladies' and the men's rooms (prior, anyone used any free bathroom); and inside the ladies' room, there were multiple reed diffusers, as if to try and give a more delicate feel.  

After I changed, I waited for class to begin, keeping to myself, trying to mentally prepare for what was to come.  Caught a glance of Richmond and Willis as they were on the course - seemingly my only like to what I knew of my 'past life' at PPBC.  Fortunately, Gilligan, a recruit who had been in the same class before walked in, and we caught up.  Felt a bit better, because as I looked down the row of strangers, I had no desire to partner up and stretch with any of them.

BLOGGUS INTERRUPTUS

Okay, so this isn't normal.  I cut myself off mid entry because I got so sidetracked between sessions (only 1 week, mind you).  Monday recap of the actual first session:

I just about coasted through, which was a pleasant surprise.  They had us running a lot more in the beginning, which was puzzling, but manageable, even though it was a good 9 or 10 laps, versus the usual 7.  The warmup exercise numbers were significantly lower, so I motored through.  And then the boxing exercises were a fun challenge.  My ankle started to twinge a lot later into class than I expected.  What was absent from this session?  The obstacle course run, and much to my delight, squat thrusts - yay!  At the end, I shouted out the sit-up numbers louder than anyone else.  Gleeful at having made it through, I called both Sunils on my way home.  

A week later, I prepared for a triumphant return, diligently hydrating all day at the office.  Cheerfully changed and made conversation with Montgomery, who I hadn't seen in forever.  As the 6PM class was at the rock wall doing their sit-ups, and a couple of overly ambitious newbies decided to start running.  Okay, so one can look at this two ways - they were genuinely trying to warm up, or they were trying to look impressive by starting early.  Call me jaded, but don't they know better?  If the DIs don't notice them running, those laps don't count.  Kind of like that whole tree falling in the forest with no one around to witness.  I lost count of all the laps.

Over to the PT area for stretches, where I was significantly stiffer than usual (my right hip flexor is notoriously tighter than my left, resulting in me being able to touch my forehead to my right knee, where I can barely bend down over my left, and inevitably a groan escaped).  The shoulder stretch and tricep stretch seemed rushed - maybe during the time I was out of commission, the DIs decided to speed up the count cadence.  So, it felt like I was counting at 33 RPM compared to the 45PRM everyone else was doing.  

25 jumping jacks, face your partner; high knees for a count of 15.  Drop down on your back with your feet 6 inches off the ground.  DI Steve (new to me) instructed the class that on his count, we needed to raise our feet from 6 inches to 18 inches for a count of 15, using my feet to provide a visual example.  I am sure he noticed my pursed lips and slightly flared nostrils - dude, I might have been gone for 6 months, but I think I can gauge the difference between 6 and 18 inches!  Next, we raised our feet to a 90 degree angle, perpendicular to the floor.  Toes pointed, on the DI's count, we were to raise our butts off the floor.  Ouch.  Back up for another 25 jumping jacks; this time was definitely favoring the right foot.  Face your partner again, and then everyone in my lane was ordered to run 3 laps while  in the meantime our partners did star jumpers.  Star jumpers aren't all that bad; at the same time, I didn't want to lag behind and subject Montgomery (my partner) to more star jumpers than necessary - given that it was her first time after her vacation.  Then the other line of recruits ran three laps while we did our star jumpers.  The guy next to me was making a concerted point to exaggerate his reps (like he was leapfrogging in place), which caused a couple of thoughts to run through my head:

1. Suck up.  He must have newly drunk the PPBC Kool-Aid.

2. Why is he doing that?  I hope his knees don't touch me.  

Niscio pointed out various people, thereby splitting the class into squads, and called us over to the area behind the INTENSITY wall.  We each grabbed a tire, and Niscio gave us the next exercise - 3 sets of tire presses, slow, in 3 steps.  No sweat, right?  No WAY!  The first set of 25 was okay, the second set of 20 was a lot tougher, and the last 15 were downright painful.  It's hard to recall, but there were moments of utter wimpiness, so much so that Niscio was initially hard on me, but became more sympathetic as he saw me struggle to keep the tire above my head, doing the default "rest the tire on my shoulders with a defeated look on my face" thing.  Run 1 lap over to the to the windowsill, where we lined up for the next exercise:  dips.  20, then 1 lap; 15, another lap; and 10 for the last set.  Barely managed those.  Ordered to run a lap to the PT area, but before we got there, we collided with the other squad.  To punish us, they made everyone bear crawl around the gym, back to the PT area.  For the pitifully inept recruits, including me, who were clearly the anchors of the squad, they ordered us to run it in.  

Back in the PT area, we partnered up, grabbed a mat and got ready for throwdowns.  Legs thrown down, apart, together, and back up; for a count of 30 - 2 sets.  Got through the first set, then the heft of my legs seemed to exponentially increase halfway through the second set.  Shamefully, I planted my feet on the floor twice, and Montgomery had to keep me motivated with the idea that water was the reward at the end of this exercise.  Glugging as much water as I could within 15 seconds, I attempted to make the most of the mini-break.  A lap of lunges was to follow, a gentle easing back into the activity - sweet! - as I passed by the desk, Lauren smiled, waved, and cheerily hollered, "Ohhhhh sh*t, look who's back...wassup Vincent?!?!?"  

The next exercises were frankly dread inducing.  DI Steve ordered us to do squat thrusts, as many as we could in 5 minutes.  OMG, I was going to die.  He changed his mind as he walked up and down the row, and assigned every recruit a specific number to do.  Mine was 30.  Ack.  When he called 'time', I had made it to 15, with much difficulty.  This was the point where my triumph turned to frustration and semi-defeat; and I became that bowlegged, toppling over idiot.  In between these hateful things we had to do military style pushups, which meant that DI Steve was NOT going to let us get on our knees until after a count of 5.  I readily availed myself to that.  When it was all over, I thankfully ran the mandated 1 lap around.  

Next came boxing.  After all this, I became the odd man out, having no partner.  So what did they do?  Partnered me up with a big blue boxing dummy.  Hmm, let me see if I can paint a picture for you.  Remember Keith Haring's signature artwork?  Well, put him upright and have his hands out in front of him, and there you have it.  I was paired up with Blue Man.  DI Steve explained the "Ladders" routine to us.  Left-right jab, sprawl, 2x, 4x, 6x, 8x, 10x, 8x, 6x, 4x, 2x- this counted as one set; we had to do 3.  Niscio, in the absence of a partner, stood over me and goaded me on ("Vincent - eye level, get mad, get angry!").  I tried.  Next up, the class was instructed to do 60 left-right jabs, followed by 10 right leg kicks, then 10 left leg kicks.  Given that my ankle was sending me signals, I opted out of the side kicks, so Niscio told me to do 100 left-right jabs (wha-wha-wha-what??)  All in all, I started strong, but the strength quickly diminished.  When I was finished with my routine, given that I was the odd one out, Niscio directed me over to the obstacle course; a solo run.  In between each obstacle, 5 pushups.  

First off, hurdles - slowly made my way over the first set, noticing that the 8PM earlycomers had started congregating along the wall.  5 pushups, then warily eyed the 3 walls.  Niscio, keeping an eye on me told me to climb the 1st one head on, and then the next two I could do backwards (meaning the easier way, using the support beams on the backside to help me up).  I think after that, I neglected to do my 5 pushups, not intentionally, but purely out of fatigue.  Over the 3rd wall, I looked at the 'Belly Rollers."  Normally, I need assistance to get up on this, but I figured that if I climbed up on the front support, I didn't require the DI, and would not risk either an ankle injury or a split chin (like someone I'd seen in the past).  Hopped up, no problem, and pulled my way across the logs.  Came to the 12 foot INTENSITY wall, took a running start and made it 7/8 of the way up, when I started to struggle - fortunately Niscio came up to give the necessary  gluteal support to get me up the wall.  With a loud grunt, I hopped over and made my way down.  Over the longer, second set of hurdles, right leg then left leg alternating, to the rock wall.  I wasn't afraid of it, but wasn't sure how far I could make it.  Niscio was satisfied with around 8 feet across.  It was at this point that I started to feel lightheaded, and asked him for a time-out.  He led me to the window, and I breathed in the fresh air for a few minutes.  Not 100%, but recovered enough to continue.  But I didn't think I could stomach any more obstacles, so I pleaded utter weakness to the DI, who thankfully obliged, and ordered me to run laps until the rest of the class was finished.  I think I did around 3.  

To the rock wall, where we linked arms for 25 group sit-ups.  At this point, I was so exhausted that I could barely hear the DI shouting out my name, asking me to name a principle (Power, how ironic).  

Not completely triumphant about this session, but after a shower, the endorphins propelled me through a bacchanalian dinner with friends in the Meatpacking District, in honor of Bastille Day.

Stay tuned, folks

Coming soon to a theater near you, "Back to Boot Camp"!  Yes, after almost 6 months of not going to Pure Power Boot Camp, I am going back on July 7th.  What happened, you ask?  The worst ankle injury I have ever sustained.  Back in mid January (shortly after my last post), I was at my friends' wedding, and was overjoyed to see that DJ Magic Mike himself was DJing the wedding.  A bit of a back story - this man represented the alpha and the omega of bhangra fusion mixes; his songs make up a good part of my college party soundtracks, and not to mention most notably, my group dance performance my sophomore year, when Club Zamana (Columbia University's South Asian Students' Association) put on its annual Tamasha.  We danced to "Jugni", a popular song at the time.  It held very fond memories for me.  

Well, after the wedding reception, a couple of friends hosted an after party in their suite.  As the party got under way, who should show up but Magic Mike and his dhol player.  He opened up his laptop, and put on his playlist.  My star-struck gaze must have been palpable; after mustering up some courage, I went up to him, told him how much of an impact his music had on my life, and followed up with "Dude, you've got to do me a HUGE favor and play Jugni for me."  Of course, he does!  I was practically salivating as the familiar drums rang out.  But within the first 15 seconds of the song, I leapt up, rolled my left ankle, and both felt and heard a crunch.  Yes, I am a train wreck.  

Despite my best efforts to ice it copiously, the next morning, I woke up unable to put any weight on my left foot (but for a small section of the outer part of my big toe), and with my ankle swollen to twice its normal size.  I literally had to be rolled out of the hotel on the luggage cart, surrounded by suitcases and garment bags, hiding behind my sunglasses and attempting to maintain a sliver of dignity.  For two days, I was laid up.  When I returned to work, I made no effort to see a doctor, after all, I had sprained my ankle before, and it was just a matter of time before the swelling and the bruising (which had traveled halfway up my calf) would go away.  Or so I thought.  

3 weeks passed, and no signs of marked improvement.  Concerned that it might be a fracture, I finally went to see an orthopedist.  After x-rays and mobility tests, he asked me "Do you really need to go skiing?"  (I was off to Switzerland for a much anticipated ski vacation in the Alps).  I told him I had to, because the trip was already paid for and it was something I just HAD to do.  He told me that I had a high ankle sprain with soft tissue/tibular tendon damage.  It wouldn't prevent me from skiing, due to the confining nature of the boot, but all other physical activity would have to be put on hold until further notice.  And at all times, I was to wear a soft brace, called a Swede-O (you can imagine what kind of a field day my friends had with that one - I got numerous Speedo references via email).  

Managed to ski 4 out of the 6 days in Switzerland, helped by my traveling companion's advice to layer Aleve and Tylenol (she's a doctor).  And with regular visits, continued physical therapy (at home), I recovered slowly, and managed to take another ski trip to California in April.  That actually sped up my recovery, because of the long hours in the jacuzzi after a day of skiing (note to self:  add water jets to tub when re-doing bathroom).  A couple of cortisone shots here and there, and I was set.  Finally, back in May, the doc gave me the go-ahead to start light activity again.  Happily, I was able to wear normal shoes again, and started actually thinking about when I was going back.  I decided on July 7th.

But light physical activity?  Truth time, folks.  I haven't really done anything of the sort, and I am a little scared of what's going to happen on Monday.  

More after Monday...if I can still type after all the push-ups and squat thrusts and the like.