(Re)Bootcamp: Day 3

I'm officially wounded.

It may be hard to tell from the photo, but I've got a blood blister on my palm that just won't quit, and calluses are setting up shop all over my hands.

Damn you, Monkey Bars! Damn you Rope I Can't Climb!!

And damn you, abs. You should look like a full-blown washboard after what I went through for you today! A washboard, damn it. Not a ... well, whatever shape it is in which you've decided to configure yourself.

I've also got a mildly nasty cut on the back of my knee from climbing the walls (that's right, climbing the walls), but that just wouldn't photograph well.


Back in 2003, I took a trapeze/aerial class. We worked in harnesses and flew around this loft attached to cables and such. I would leave there each week with bruises across my lower back that put Domestic Violence to shame. I was working out with a trainer at my old gym at the time and he definitely had the look of 'do you need me to have words with your abusive boyfriend?' on more than one occasion. No punchy boyfriend. I was just doing it for the art. It hurt like hell, but ultimately it was all worth it-- I was in the best shape of my life!

I'm having flashbacks.

I'm headed to Paragon today to buy some gloves. I guess I'm slightly too delicate to really handle all this brutality.