Boot camp diary: Week three

Part three in a four-week series on beauty editor Lesa Hannah’s experience at Best Body Bootcamp (

Monday: I was really hoping that waking up would be easier by now, but not so. Dragging my ass from the warm, delicious comfort of my bed requires the same amount of willpower as it did in week one. For legs we’re made to do jumping jacks, variations of squats that include some form of jump, burpies and a one-legged raised knee kick that has such a martial arts feel to it, I quietly chant a Karate Kid command to myself for fun. Then have a moment of silence for Mr. Miyagi. We’ve barely recovered when we’re made to run a lap around the park. Then we do it all again. THREE MORE TIMES. After each round I collapse into a heap on my mat. I don’t recall ever feeling this spent before. Oh, and one more thing: Why do I still feel fat?

Wednesday: At some point during my workout on my back and biceps, it occurs to me that we’re probably not going to have a day devoted exclusively to glutes. Bummer—no pun intended. If there’s one thing I love, it’s taxing the cheeks to maximum effect. There’s an uneven number in the class so when we have to partner up and link our resistance bands to do one-arm rows, I’m the loser who has to pair up with the teacher. No offense, Mike–it would just be more humane to have an equally weak wingman.

Friday: Sleep, sweet sleep, how I adore thee. But since my jeans still feel like sausage casing, I haul my sorry self out of bed. We focus on arms again, and core. Mike makes us hold ourselves in a Superman pose, lying on our stomachs, arms outstretched and raised up off the ground along with our feet. Maybe it’s because I’ve always had a soft spot for Christopher Reeve, but I kinda like this one. Jumping sucks—we’re made to do so, bringing our knees up to our chests as much as possible, as well as do jumping jacks and burpies. I frown upon push-ups just as equally. Those prison cell ones are back but they aren’t as torturous as the ones where we count to three going up and going down. You would think constantly carrying a 20-pound child would give me an edge, but I still feel feeble.

Check back next Thursday for week four of Lesa’s boot camp exploits.


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