Tuesday, January 27
3pm: Email received from one of my best friends who gets married in Sydney in April. The subject: "Measurements Required". Says it all really.
Decide while eating my almond croissant I really should dust off my running shoes and use them to walk in. Decide I should make a concerted effort to be more active so when I get to Sydney the entire dress needs to be taken in.
Decide while polishing off said almond croissant Monday is the best day to start physical activity.
Decide to use the next five days to find motivation.
4.58pm: Email received from one Speight's-swilling fitness freak (contradiction in terms, I think to myself, as I guffaw at the content of the email).
Content states a women's-only boot camp is beginning next month and some mention of getting me fit. Surely, this is a joke?
5.06pm: Reply sent to Mark Wilson (Speight's-swilling fitness freak) informing him I will think about it.
This, clearly, means I won't.
5.21pm: Mark Wilson replies, tells me it's 15 sessions over five weeks and he reckons I would "love it afterwards".
Of course I would love it afterwards . . . it would be over.
It's more the "during" I'm worried about.
Wednesday, January 28
7am: Wake from blissful slumber, during which I had a dream I was fit.
Odd. Nevertheless, thoughts of boot camp are running through my head.
On my drive to work, I have a leprechaun-sized Richard Simmons floating around telling me all the reasons I should sign up for boot camp. One of those is the reaction many of my friends have had when I've mentioned I'm considering it.
They laughed.
Motivation sneaking up on me rather quickly.
9.08am: Email sent to Mark Wilson.
Ask him for EXACT details of this boot camp.
10.37am: Reply: Five weeks, 5.45pm Monday, Wednesday and Thursday; yoga optional on Saturday.
All over Queenstown - I deduce this means up hills.
The thought doesn't thrill me.
I decide to ponder a little longer.
1.03pm: Return to office following coffee break with a good friend.
Conversation had about my conundrum - to do boot camp, or not to do boot camp, that is the question. Friend is persuasive and I decide I should sign up . . . what's the worst that could possibly happen? This question may well come back to haunt me.
1.52pm: Email sent to superiors in Dunedin announcing a new column running in the Queenstown Times detailing my experiences.
Make a vague suggestion I may become more pleasant to deal with once those endorphin things start whizzing around my untoned and pale body. Subeditor laughs at me.
Not sure if he's laughing at the thought of me exercising or at the thought of what I might write about exercising.
Hope it was the latter, suspect it was more likely the former.
2.50pm: Email sent to Mark Wilson.
Announce I will do boot camp.
Politely request I get to do the one in Arrowtown - I live there and point out it would be a shorter distance for the paramedics to carry me home when I collapse.
Palms already starting to sweat.
What have I just done?
3.52pm: "Wicked" is the reaction from Mark Wilson.
Informs me the Arrowtown-based boot camp is actually mornings: 6am to 7.15am Monday, Wednesday and Thursday and a mixed session, not women only.
Mornings and I don't see eye to eye (generally struggle to form vowels until the second cup of coffee), but figure better to get it over and done with first thing in the morning before I've had time to think, than "look forward" to it all day.
Now decision has been made I am, in a very bizarre way, almost looking forward to it (like the time I had my wisdom teeth removed - it wasn't pleasant, except for the fun drugs, but after the bleeding, swelling and bruising went away, I did feel better).
Thursday, January 29
11.33am: Mark Wilson has just left my office. I think it was designed as a pep talk.
During said pep talk, he told me he thought I was lazy.
I could argue with him, but think better of it.
Also said my eating habits were nothing short of horrendous - not going to disagree with him there.
Am informed there will be a weigh-in and measuring session.
Will talk to nutritionist and must keep a food diary six out of seven days a week. Ask if the food diary includes liquid refreshments; for example, wine.
He says yes.
Oh dear God.
• For more information on the Queenstown Boot Camp Systems programmes, visit www.bootcamps.co.nz
