Resistance is Futile

Meet my latest arch nemesis, BOSU. Or, as I like to call it, the bulbous blue blob of blech.

 

 

 

 

I first met BOSU at the Y over the summer when I started taking fitness classes. We were casually aquainted. No big deal. But in the past few weeks my pilates and H.A.B.I.T. (hips, abs, butt, inner thighs, baby) instructors have been forcing me to make nice with BOSU in EVERY. SINGLE. SESSION. Not only do I have to make nice with this torture device, I have to play with BOSU's posse: the balance ball and the pilates ring. *shudder* Apparently, these are all tools of resistance training, designed to enhance balance and strength by making me look like an unbalanced, unstable fitness training freak.

 

Here is what proper BOSU use should look like:

 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M8mcHyfFvQI

 

Here is what my BOSU use looks like:

 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fEnRQryboho

 

I am old school. To me, resistance training involves trying to resist punching Denise Austin (the 80's version) in the face or kicking Buns of Steel Greg in the Yoo Hoo. (To be fair, Denise has toned down her enthusiasm over the years to an appropriate level. One of my favorite home workout DVDs is her Hit the Spot Pilates.)

 

But I have resolved not to let these new-fangled devices win. One day soon, I will stand confidently on top of BOSU perfectly balanced. What is interesting about the BOSU battle is that it mirrors my personality. My natural instincts make me resist anything or anyone that tries to control me, even if I know it's good for me. Usually, I come around. Complicated and confusing? Yes, but it works for me. Between us, I know resisting BOSU is futile, and while I would never admit it, BOSU has given me killer abs and some rockin' thigh muscles. But let's not let the bulbous blue blob of blech know, OK?

 

Wherever you are, whatever you're doing ... keep it real.