This was my second foray into Pam Polestino’s Boot Camp, and I found the charismatic one with her left foot in a soft cast because she has a stress fracture. One might get the impression that instead of an intensive hour on the wood floor, we might be getting a free pass, but of course it was the antithesis, because now she had both hands free to whip us into a frenzy of muscle fatigue, a pool of sweat and for me, struggling in the anaerobic zone for the whole hour.
It happened again, I found myself in a sea of captivity. An ocean of women, and through no fault of their own, the studio air was laden in a cloud of estrogen. Never under estimate the power of the force or in this case, female hormones. One testosterone man can make a difference however in shifting the teeter totter even though the seat must be kept down by all accounts. I commented to one young woman that I was alone and she responded that we needed some testosterone present. Women seem to keep to themselves and resist the shouting or grunting that I readily let loose when I am in studio, and with a workout of this magnitude I had no trouble answering Pam’s Yes or No questions to bellowing responses. Pam’s use of the words; HARDER, FASTER and DEEPER were not the ones I was used to hearing, at least not in this space.
The class was extremely challenging. Pam asked that we not hold back, and I tried not to, but by 45 minutes in, my left calf was starting to cramp which was satisfying in one respect, I knew then that I was kicking my ass. Another handicap was the wet floor beneath my feet, as that had me losing my footing through several of the routines, and luckily I had half a dozen towels to mop up the waterworks. I admit I was watching the clock and I broke down the segments into 15 minute sections and that seemed to help me get through a group exercise that I am a long way from feeling comfortable in.
Pam Polestino, I dig her routine and so I will keep coming back.
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