When we got here, I immediately went to the exercise facility to get the lay of the land. It was a bad lay. Pretty, pristine, well-maintained -- but no substance.
I texted my trainer in a minor panic. I could've made due for a weekend -- but for 10 days? I didn't like to think about how far backwards that might take me. She came through, of course. Because there is ALWAYS something you can do. No excuses.
One plan she wrote for me was a beach workout.
Are you picturing something like this?
Because I totally was. And this is hot.
But I look like this.
So I approached it with a little trepidation.
People thinking of this came to mind.
I donned a long sleeved T-shirt and a hoodie -- because the folks on the local news were making it sound like it was going to feel like the tundra out there and those were the warmest things I'd packed -- and headed outside.
I started out walking -- then sideways walking and backwards walking -- squats -- pushups -- squats with leg lifts -- always walking between each set.
My training partners were only slightly less shrill and obnoxious than Jillian Michaels. And way more charming. Though considerably less helpful than my own beloved trainer. Eh. You take what you can get.
Did people notice me? Did they think I looked foolish? I have no earthly idea, and -- what's more -- I couldn't care less. Could. Not. Care. Less. Because it wasn't for them, it was for me. And it was awesome.