Well that was Adventure Boot Camp Wednesday, or what I like to call, The Ship Without A Captain.
One very dark and wet Wednesday morning at some unheard of hour, only really good for nightclub returnees, five unstoppable, and slightly grumpy women arrived at Adventure Boot Camp, but their trainer was a no show. Today Nizaam the Friendly Punisher was Nizaam the Invisible.
So we took it upon ourselves to self-govern, each of us remembering snatches of exercises from previous sessions. As we warmed up there was a click and all the lights in the world disappeared. Crap. We shed our collective loads. But we stuck it out and cobbled together some kind of bizarre, duct-taped-together work out in the dark.
My ability to count seems to be directly affected by load shedding. I’m like my friend’s gorgeous two year old learning how to count, eleben, sixteen, seventeen, nineteen, twelfty. But hey, when you’re in the dark, nobody knows if you’re doing twenty or seventeen Killer Calf Whatevers (That’s the technical term for them when you don’t have a trainer).
And if you don’t believe we stayed and worked out hard, instead of going back to bed, we took a photograph as proof:
Learning 1: The fog horn makes a great stopwatch, it goes off every thirty second.
Learning 2: Leave chicks in charge and they get the job done.
Learning 3: My ass hurts.
Nizaam, we hope you’re okay.