Camp...

In keeping with CalBarNone's pledge to not let the bar exam rob him of his good health along with all the other things it tries to steal from us: our money, our dignity, our time, our SANITY...

But I digress... In keeping with the fitness trend, I am doing fitness boot camp along with my friend, L, who has already passed the bar, but is finding that her ass is expanding with every lunch out that she goes to with colleagues. (My ass is expanding exponentially with each bar exam I am forced to endure.)

It started last Monday. Monday was all right. Tuesday I thought I was actually going to have a heart attack. Wednesday I think I had a small stroke during the running part.

But I lived. I lived all week to experience my husband laughing and laughing every time I groaned after the slightest movement. Remember that "Friends" episode where Monica helps Chandler get in shape? Remember his "ow, ow, ow, ow, OW!" when lifting his arm to sip coffee? Yep. That was me.

And did I mention it starts at five friggin' thirty in the morning? What was I thinking? But, once through the first week, I am doing all right. My pants are slightly looser, which is better than they were before, and I can actually do all of the exercises, even the ones I struggled to do even one rep of last week. (The mere mention of squat thrusts still makes me shudder, though.) And, once I'm actually upright in the morning, the early rise is just fine.

So L is already talking about the next session, and how we need to sign up for it. She's all excited about getting up early to go sweat. And to think, it took me three weeks and the experience of not being able to button her pants to get her to agree to do it. And now, she's a friggin' disciple.

I'm so proud.