Conversations With The Trainer

I have two weeks of bootcamp behind me, and it's going really well. I kind of even like it, and am already thinking about doing another in March. I have been up at 5am every weekday, and I haven't missed a class. The scale is moving. The clothes are looser. I hate to claim victory too soon, but I will say I have not been defeated. That's not to say, however, that I'm on the front row of the class.

There are about 35 of us in "camp", under the leadership of three instructors. The main guy is George. I really like the way he motivates the group. He's just stern enough. I'm pretty sure George thinks I'm a loser.

George:  Last week when we brought out the punching bags you were kind of all over the place. You need to hold your form when you punch it. Keep the elbows in tight. You were kind of flailing about. And that's ok, you've probably never done this before. You're not a fighter.
Me: This is true. But I am very skilled at a verbal assualt. 
George:  Then you yell at that bag!

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George: DO YOU EVER SWEAT?

{This was not offered as a compliment, he meant for me to step it up!}

Me:  I'm Southern. I just...glisten.

{Yes, I went fridge magnet on him. It would have been tacky to tell him I could fill a kiddie pool with the content of my sports bra.}
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George: This is not your grandma's workout!
Me: I know, my grandma would probably be in far more advance class that I am.