Posts Tagged ‘crossfit’

A few years ago I attending a thrice-weekly workout program with a solid Serbian named Svetlana. Embracing her was like hugging a tree.

Her name in fact was Suzana but in my mind she was better suited to ‘Svetlana.’  When asked if her family members had spent any time in the army she replied, “Loyse, we were the army.”

Her exercise program was called GI Jane Boot Camp, her company was called MYA Fitness. I asked another hapless question: Why MYA?

“Loyse, I’m gonna get you to move your a**!”

Got it. Ma’am.

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Well now, that was then, this is now.

Meet my new personal trainers.

They bark at me, just like Svetlana, and they have no patience for the fact that I continue to be woefully out of shape. Let’s go! Let’s go! Let’s go!

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So just about every morning we tackle a walk out the door, down our driveway, past the mailboxes and further down to the water.

This brand new set of stairs was constructed last spring by the municipality. I don’t know what it replaced but I know I’m one of the few users. It’s not exactly for the faint of heart and certainly scared me off for a while.

This set of stairs is one of two, the second half that takes one down to the water.

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And this is the other, the set that takes one back up to the road. I’m standing on the small patch of level land between the two.

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And here’s the coach. Come on, Loyse. Let’s go let’s go let’s go. I want you to move your a**!

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Done for today.

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At Christmas time or her birthday or when I needed a break I’d bring Svetlana some treats. And on rare but very pleasant mornings after class she’d make us thick Turkish coffee the way she’d learned from her mother and we’d sip and listen to a few guarded stories about life in the homeland. And the reasons for the move to Canada were pretty clear — a better life for herself and her family.

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As for me and my trainers, after we’ve completed the final upward hike on the drive we enjoy some treats as well. A nice cappuccino for me and some butcher discards for the coaches, who then settle in for a nap.

Life in the homeland is pretty good.


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