Tug-of-war
Squats. Lunges. Push-ups. Typical exercises found in most workout routines. We done plenty of them in yesterday’s boot camp, but we also done a little something unexpected, something fun — a game of tug-of-war. Whew!
When I saw Trevor grab that huge, thick rope my eyes lit up. I haven’t played tug-of-war since I was a kid. We anxiously formed two teams, grabbed our spots in line, and started digging in. Tugging back and forth. Tug. Tug. Tug. My heart was beating fast. It felt like it was going to pop out of my chest. But, I was having too much fun to care I just keep digging.
I never realized I was so competitive. I really started getting into it. Round two I was first in line. Digging hard. We tugged and tugged. A few times the other team started pulling away from us. I was screaming “PULL.” We pulled ourselves to victory that round.
Afterwards we were breathing hard, smiling, and laughing. Feeling like kids again. It’s nice to do something different like a game of tug-of-war to break up the typical workout routine. Thanks, Trevor for the unexpected, fun challenge.
I’m really digging my new training studio Northwest Personal Training. It’s kinda cool and different. Wanna join in on the fun and get fit? Email me: farewellfatso@gmail.com for your complimentary pass.
Chrisetta Mosley
I am a product – and now a survivor – of childhood obesity. As a child, my family always told me that my extra weight was merely baby fat and I’d eventually grow out of it. I never did. Instead, my childhood is filled with memories of not being able to ride a bike, flattening its training wheels from being over the recommended weight, and avoiding P.E. classes by any means necessary. For years, I wore my fatness like a wounded soldier wears a Purple Heart - with pride. I owned the look. I dressed it up. I worked the room. There wasn't a skinny girl who intimidated me. I made sure my hair was laid just right. Nails polished. Outfits coordinated to the tee. Accessories to compliment every outfit. But everyone has a breaking point, and mine came in the spring of 2004 when I tipped the scale at nearly 400 pounds 388 to be exact. I was MISERABLE trapped inside of that body. I no longer wore my Purple Heart with pride. Rather, I was ashamed and frightened. Ashamed that I had allowed food to become my everything – frightened I would die because of it. Drastic times called for drastic measures... Today, I’m bound and determined to live a better, healthier, active lifestyle. I realize I’m no longer a passenger in my life, I’m the driver. I’m overcoming my inhibitions and I’m slowly but surely saying farewell to my old childhood nemesis, obesity. For once and for all, Farewell Fatso!