British Military Fitness Part 1

Well, my friends out there will no doubt know that I am grossly overweight and I go through fads of fitness and exercise and diets, and they work for a bit and then I revert to type and bang back where I started.

I was thinking about what I wanted to do, how could I change my life. I considered martial arts again, I love martial arts and they have been kind to me, so why not start a new art and concentrate on fitness that way. It was possible but not ringing my bell. I further considered yoga and aerobics, neither were at the top of my list as I, personally, considered them female based and I did not want that. The same was for Zumba although, I knew it would crack my fitness. No, I wanted something that would crack my mind and ultimately my body. I was listening to a podcast and a very clever chap said a simple phrase. “Get your mind healthy to get your body fit, not get your body fit to get your mind healthy”. This highlighted what I knew to be true. I had to get the mind in gear to achieve my potential.

At that point, my office, who frequently discuss all things health fitness and food were cracking on to me to do something along with Keith, my bestest buddy in the world. All of this done out of care rather than ridicule. It then came out, if I can manage to do it, I should crack on to British Military Fitness. An absolute body killer, a mind killer and exactly what I was used to in a previous life. My mind was made as soon as it was mentioned. I already had the all clear as far as the body and organs go, so I was good to go. I committed to ix months minimum and off I went.

I was told on starting tee shirt and shorts, I look after my mind and they will look after my body. I was comfortable with that. It was a very friendly bunch, all seemed a bit on edge, they had all done it before and a range of abilities. The class is classified into three, green (top) red (middle) and blue (bottom), I couldn’t even fit into the blue vest, so I have miles to go. Everyone was saying how it was a bad idea to level up. I see it like this, I want that green top. That means progress. I wont be broken.

The instructor, ex military, was relatively kind, though the warm up was nasty. It was outdoors on Wednesday last, cold wet and muddy with a severe risk of stepping in dog mess or worse, putting your hands in it when doing press ups. I knew that physical training instructors in the military hate two things, hands in pockets and standing still, so my hands stayed out and my feet were constantly moving. There was an ingenious set of exercises that gradually killed me at one side of the field to the other. Up, down, HOLD! Arghhh, the squats were horrible for me, I carry a slight knee weakness and coupled with my weight I really struggled with those. However, I refused to be beaten. I kept going to the very end. My rebellious streak did cause me to require a demonstration on crunches, so that the instructor got down and dirty in the mud with us. It is a question of mind games and being able to:
Thumb up bum and brain in neutral which I can do, no problem.

When I got home I was expecting to be dead, I was told by my learned friends that I would be on an exercise high, I was, really buzzing. By the time I went to bed I was getting stiff. In the morning when I woke, I figured my thighs really hurt and I struggled to get up and down stairs and out of my chair. Friday arrived, and every part of my being was screaming pain, my core, my arms, my legs, my neck, even my hair hurt, and I am just beginning to recover now, just in time for my next session on Monday night. Rest assured I will keep you all posted.