All along I've wanted to try this class called Punk Rope. It's a jump rope class set to rock and punk music and is supposed to be a TON of fun.
Today in Boot Camp we used a jump rope. 50 seconds of straight jumping, and then we had to run and do a modified push up and work with kettlebells and carry this honkin big water bottle and then go back to the jump rope.
That darn limp rope kicked my rear end. I tried to do a little school girl jumping rhyme to make it go easier but I couldn't even get halfway through before I had to stop to catch my breath. It got to the point where I was muttering out loud to myself "Tank top wearing MILF. Gonna be a tank top wearing MILF..." and I kept trying to visualize our next trip to Disney..ya know, the one in JUNE where I have to wear a bathing suit...
It didn't help and my ass was romped by that stupid rope.
The worst part was that I couldn't even skip rope anymore. Every time I tried to skip I got hung up on my own leg so I went to jumping.
Punk Rope is now on hold indefinitely because 50 seconds of jumping rope killed me. Imagine what an HOUR would do?
This is Punk Rope.
Of course having said that I want to start a class like this in Hoboken:
Email from Dad, Part 8: New Year's - On Wed, Dec 29, 2010 at 8:48 PM, Dad wrote: *Hi Sheryl,it's google time.Just read your latest googles.Having me there on Feb.1st is a great idea,I'm looki...
7 years ago