I've never been one for going to a gym. I've always felt it was too much of a meat market and I'm not a fan of so many people watching me workout. I prefer privacy when I'm on the treadmill gasping for breath, thank you very much, and found I could get just as good of a workout at home for free.
I walk a couple miles with the dog almost daily but lately I've wanted to kick it up a notch and really get toned up, you know since swimsuit season is now over and I'm getting ready to head into the cold months covered in layers of clothes. My timing is a bit off, I know.
I purchased a boot camp DVD from Denise Austin and decided to give it a go at home. After all, I'm a stay at home mom, I should be able to find 20 minutes a day to let Denise kick my rear end into shape and in those oh-so-famous last words, "It's only a 20 minute DVD, how bad can it be?"
After purchasing my boot camp DVD I thought it only wise to preview it first. I put it on the TV and settled into the recliner with some left over Halloween candy and a tall glass of cold water. As soon as the video started, Denise Austin in all her firmly toned, rock hard abs glory pops up on the screen and Artem points to the TV and announces, "Wook mama, its you!" Have I mentioned how much I love this kid?
Today I'm two minutes into the video, my heart is racing and I'm convinced that Denise is not as nice as she looks on the DVD cover. But it's good, I'm feeling it, enjoying it, and in walks Artem who pats me on the behind and says, "Good job Mama! I work out 'witch' you?" Sure thing little buddy, and he proceeds to kick his legs and giggle his way through the video, only to leave after a few minutes.
Artem returns a short time later with his socks and shoes in his hands and lets me know that he's going to put his Nikes on because he needs to "twain his body like mama". In the meantime I'm still huffing and puffing away to Denise's torture tactics but Artem cannot get his shoes on and is demanding that I help him. In between breaths I tell him he's on his own and please move off to the side so as to not get kicked. My almost three year old, in a last ditch attempt to recapture his terrible twos, sprawls himself onto the floor in a heaping pile of crying and sobbing mess and yells, "I need to twain my body!" Fine. Pause Denise, although I'm tempted to let her continue on without me, put on the child's socks and shoes, and we continue on with the workout.
That lasts only a few minutes and he gets bored and leaves. I appreciate the solitary time because Denise is in full kick-my-rear-end-mode and I'm calling her names in between gasps of breath that young ears should not hear.
Finally it's time to move to my mat. Thank goodness! I can handle exercises that require a mat to lay on, so I thought. Denise calls this, "Recovery Time" in her video, I call it, "Thank God I lived through the Sister of Satan's workout." You say 'tomato' I say 'to-mahto'. In the background I hear the clink of the toilet lid go up and Artem announce that he has to poop; good timing since I only have a few minutes left in this workout. Immediately I hear, "Mama come wipe me!" (that has got to be my all time least favorite thing to hear yelled at me) and again I briefly consider letting Denise continue on without me but I pause her and go to assist Artem. I wipe him, and leave him with instructions to pull up his pants, wash his hands, and go back to his playroom. I run back to Denise and resume the video. I'm instructed to move to all fours, one weight is behind my right knee, sweat is dripping from my temples and in the middle of my leg lifts, out of the bathroom comes and half naked boy, laughing hysterically and yelling, "Wook mama!!! My penis is 'dicking' out!"
I'm done. I admit defeat for today's workout and vow to checkout the local gym tomorrow and find the best 20 minutes of babysitting that money can buy. A woman has to know her limits, and I reached mine today.
