Pump Up The Jams
I don't usually delve into my personal or daily life on this blog. There are plenty of other places on the web where you can read about people's relationships, tattoos, irritable bowel syndrome, and cuticles. But I will momentarily break from my rule, and I ask that you withhold judgment: Today, I started a month-long Fitness Boot Camp.
Let me explain. Early June in Portland was awful: soggy, cold, snow continuing to fall in the mountains, few signs of a summer to come. Tired of colorless days, and in a moment of weakness, I took the advice of a coworker and signed up for the camp. The camp sessions last for one month and take place at nearby parks; each workout lasts an hour. I had to choose between three or five days a week and a start time of 5:30 a.m., 7:30 a.m., or 9 a.m. I went for the second option, three days a week.
Before camp starts, each participant has a preliminary meeting with the instructor, David. I don't need to describe David, whose name has been changed, because you already know what he looks like. Tan? Yes. Muscular? Duh. (What you may not have imagined is that David ALSO works in radio -- he does an on-air lunch-time fitness program for a Top 40 station -- and when I told him I worked for NPR, well, let's just say that he wanted to talk shop for a while and swap stories about "the biz.") The meeting consisted mostly of measurements and fat-pinching. Obviously, I knew that I hadn't been endowed with an hourglass figure, but what I didn't know is that I am shaped like a plank with two tiny birds sitting on it. Alas, Fitness Boot Camp cannot perform miracles.
This morning, we had our first class. About 20 of us laid out our yoga mats and followed David as he sang, shimmied, and lip-synched to the music pumping from the boom box. The songs consisted of a lot of mashups, remixes, and dance hits. Some of the women sang along. At one point, he played a tune that sampled "Cars" by Gary Numan. When David shouted, "Does anyone know the name of the song in the background and who sings it?" the music nerd in me overruled my fear of crowd participation and I called out the answer. I imagine that after a month of camp, I'll associate a whole new set of songs with motivation. I can't wait to fire up a 10-minute version of Will Smith's "Miami" to get myself out of bed in the mornings.
So bear with me as I ask you to ponder this question. What songs get you motivated -- to bike, run, exercise, compete, ask for a raise, get ready for a night on the town, or just face the world each day?
1:07 PM ET | 07-14-2008 | permalink
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