Almost a week has passed since my last entry. Oh dear, that is not so good. Even my partner is nudging me to get another post up!
The week has been eventful, to say the least.
It was the 4th and final week of our first MOVE IT! Outdoor Boot Camp. It has been a blast!
For four weeks, 27 women have joined Kathryn Burke and I four mornings a week at 6:00 am in Victoria Park. Each day has been an hour of physical effort, personal growth, camaraderie and transformation. From running and sprinting to lunging and squatting (um, ad nauseum it might have seemed), from Big Ropes and water jugs to agility drills, from push ups and grass stains to carrying around picnic tables, these intrepid and spirited women took the early rays of the sun and spun them into a wonderful golden memory replete with good health and vitality.
On the first and last day of the Boot Camp, each participant performed a fitness test: a 1 km run, 1 minute push up test, 1 minute crunch test, max rep assisted pull up test, and flexibility test. The changes in 4 weeks were significant! Wow! I have been receiving emails and fb messages about lost inches and changing clothes sizes. And good on each and every one of them!
Last night some of the Boot Campers gathered to enjoy a slide show of their mornings which I put together. We had some laughs and some ohs of awe. And then Kathryn presented each of them with an award and a special gift. Some of us headed off to Fishbones for dinner and drinks. I wasn’t feeling well yesterday, but it was a great day and such an honour and pleasure to share this time with these inspiring women.
Early in the week I was in a motor vehicle accident and was tidily hit from behind while waiting to make a left turn. The driver at fault didn’t even see me, so he didn’t touch his brakes. Cell phone texting? I don’t know. It doesn’t much matter. I didn’t see it coming but I clearly remember the sound of my jaw snapping shut…. it ached for two days. The accident wrote off my car, sadly, and sufficiently damaged his front end that his car couldn’t even be pushed off the road.
Now, if you know me, you know my life is mundane in a lovingly planned and very much appreciated sort of way, but rarely boring. It seems that life works to keep me entertained and amused, even during stressful times. The accident was no exception.
Monday afternoon was a warm, sunny holiday afternoon. Some of us worked while others milled the local neighbourhoods, chatting and lingering, soaking up sunshine and a great sense of community, reveling in the wonder of a warm spring day. I stood, a bit shaky and dazed, in the parking lot of the motel across the street from the studio. Joshua, the other driver was attached to his cell phone. As we were only a couple of blocks from the police station, they were there quickly. It must have been a slow afternoon as, at one point, there were 3 marked and one unmarked cars on the scene. Traffic did need to be directed until the tow truck arrived.
It turns out Joshua works in delivery. ..he was delivering KFC. That stuff, it is now proven, is dangerous in more ways than one. It also seems whoever was to receive this particular delivery was desperate enough for his deep-fried-death to come to the accident scene to pick up his order! Seriously. STEP AWAY FROM THE BUCKET SIR AND NO ONE WILL GET HURT! The exchange of the red insulated bag of grease for cash happened before my eyes in the parking lot. Yeah.
As I stood in the hot sun, the police officers writing their reports in their car, a man wondered up to me and asked if I had jumper cables. I recall saying no and turning slowly toward him. He was cradling a sleeping baby raccoon in his arms and I asked if it was real. It was a surreal moment as I realized the raccoon was sporting purple nail polish on all of its claws as well as a matching bindi – a spot on its forehead. I know, I know… this sounds bizarre. It was bizarre. Enough so that I couldn’t even comment on it at the time and was perplexed. And, as I’ve related this story over the course of the week, I get very oddly sympathetic looks at about this point in the telling…
Anyway, at the exact moment when I am pondering the nail polish, a woman passing along the sidewalk spots the raccoon, scoots over and quickasawink pulls a camera from her bag, snuggles the raccoon and poses.
Eventually the tow truck arrives and hauls the broken green car onto its flatbed. The driver crawls under my car to make sure my exhaust is still breathing…yeah, I don’t know what that mean either, but I hoped it meant I wouldn’t asphyxiate if I drove the poor bugger. The flatbed then pulls into the studio parking lot, as I watch slightly confused, and provides a jump to the dead battery man, for whom the raccoon man was scouting. It all makes sense, really.
I limp my much appreciated now defunct ’97 saturn station wagon across the avenue and climb the stairs to the studio….sore and bewildered.
Days later, as I relate the afternoon’s events to one of my personal training clients, she interrupts me just as I reach the cusp of bizarre and am about to bamboozle her with the manicure/pedicure/bindi details. Stealing my now-not-so-thunderous-thunder, she announces/questions if the raccoon was sporting nail polish! My recovered jaw likely went slack. Turns out she is fb friends with the paparazzi woman and saw the photo on fb. I have, somewhat ashamedly, creeped the photo. I claim it is in defense of my now questionable sanity. The photo does not provide enough detail to discern the amateur aesthetitian’s services, but it does lend credence to my version of events.
Next week I will see a physiotherapist and a massage therapist. That will be good. I hope they don’t have a baby raccoon.
This morning, one of the boot campers stopped by the studio with some gorgeous spring flowers. Thanks.