Fitness
A New Study Says You Can Blame Your Lazy Workout Ways on Your Sign
Fitness
Can Kim Kardashian's Trainer Whip a Real Woman into Shape?
Find out if 30 days with the reality star's bootcamp trainer can transform one woman's body into a toned, fat-burning machine
Hobbling back to my Honda Two weeks in, and I'm feeling like a Barry's Bootcamp pro. I can lift heavier weights and run an 8-minute mile with ease. When a newbie walks in, I feel an incredible sense of relief that I'm no longer in her shoes. Then, I experience my worst class ever.
It all starts when I'm squatting against a mirror. We're doing the chair sit, an exercise where you mimic sitting in a chair, minus the chair. It creates a mean burn in your thighs and legs. As we cross the minute and a half mark, my legs start shaking. Not just a little shake, more like an earthquake shake. Each second feels like a full minute. And right before the two-minute mark, I stand up in order not to collapse. Unfortunately, Barry sees me cheat. "Five more seconds," he yells as he points to me. About a dozen fellow bootcampers glare in my direction as they continue to hold the position. Please let me get through these next five seconds, I pray.
But the pain only gets worse. In the next exercise, we're asked to place our feet through giant rubber bands to work on a kickback move. As I swing my leg forward, an intense, searing pain ricochets through my right hip. I'm stuck and I don't know what to do. So I do the first thing that comes to mind: I run out of class.
As I sit on the lobby bench, I can't help but feel like the biggest loser ever -- and not in the TV show good kind of way. I'm pretty sure Barry has lost all hope for me. Maybe he'll even think I made up a hip injury to get out of Bootcamp. OK, I'm being irrational. I know this. But right now I just want to feel sorry for myself.
And as if I can't do that on my own, I watch as everyone else seems to sprint out of class to a new, shiny Mercedes or BMW. I limp back to my old, used Honda. Stupid class, stupid people, stupid hip.
But the next day, I'm back at Barry's. Is this what they mean by exercise addiction?
SEE NEXT PAGE: Me? A masochist?
It all starts when I'm squatting against a mirror. We're doing the chair sit, an exercise where you mimic sitting in a chair, minus the chair. It creates a mean burn in your thighs and legs. As we cross the minute and a half mark, my legs start shaking. Not just a little shake, more like an earthquake shake. Each second feels like a full minute. And right before the two-minute mark, I stand up in order not to collapse. Unfortunately, Barry sees me cheat. "Five more seconds," he yells as he points to me. About a dozen fellow bootcampers glare in my direction as they continue to hold the position. Please let me get through these next five seconds, I pray.
But the pain only gets worse. In the next exercise, we're asked to place our feet through giant rubber bands to work on a kickback move. As I swing my leg forward, an intense, searing pain ricochets through my right hip. I'm stuck and I don't know what to do. So I do the first thing that comes to mind: I run out of class.
As I sit on the lobby bench, I can't help but feel like the biggest loser ever -- and not in the TV show good kind of way. I'm pretty sure Barry has lost all hope for me. Maybe he'll even think I made up a hip injury to get out of Bootcamp. OK, I'm being irrational. I know this. But right now I just want to feel sorry for myself.
And as if I can't do that on my own, I watch as everyone else seems to sprint out of class to a new, shiny Mercedes or BMW. I limp back to my old, used Honda. Stupid class, stupid people, stupid hip.
But the next day, I'm back at Barry's. Is this what they mean by exercise addiction?
SEE NEXT PAGE: Me? A masochist?
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