As reported, I was a little bit too motivated at the beginning of the semester. I tried to squeeze all possible kinds of courses into my curriculum and ended up choosing two from the university’s sport department, namely “sport shooting” and “body styling”. A weird mixture, huh?
I have to make a confession here: I really like rough sports like hockey or boxing, but the times for those courses didn’t fit at all. But then, “sport shooting” suddenly leaped into my eye. Excitedly, I signed up for it with a good friend who was just as stoked as I was. We kept it our little secret as we thought that it sounded a little psychopathic.
The first time, we already started shooting from a 10 meter distance, but we could sit down and put our elbows onto the table to support the weight of the gun. It was far heavier than I’d expected it to be, though it was an air rifle for sport purposes and not a real one to hunt animals (or people…) down. The bullet on the other hand, was the tiniest I’ve ever seen in my life! The instructor explained everything right down to the last detail, making sure that we would always use the guns with caution and not kill anyone. Later, we got a box with bullets, a stack of target sheets and of course our own firing range. Not only was it very entertaining, but also extremely calming. When you aim at the target, you really have to focus all of your attention on to this tiny, black dot in the middle. Slowly, I realized that my imagination of wearing huge earplugs and wildly shooting at a human shaped target, had run a little wild. In spite of that, it was a great exercise to free your mind and until now the lessons were great! 
Spoiled as I had been by the first successful course, I had high expectations for the second one. In my megalomania, I was convinced that, no matter what, I would stick to the planned schedule. With the enthusiasm of a naïve child, I walked into my first class of “body styling”. I thought that I was well-prepared and would know how to cope with the worst — what a delusion.
The gym instructor used to be a personal trainer and boy, she was one tough lady! The woman had a body out of steal and an iron will. Most of the other students I saw couldn’t follow her lead and collapsed after the thirtieth sit-up. Her dry response was,’ If you think you can’t go on, you still can repeat the exercise another 8 times!’ Wow, what a hard-edged personality! After some of the most exhausting ninety minutes of my life, my body was screaming with pain. I started feeling muscles aching which I didn’t even know existed. I had no idea how excruciatingly painful it would be to get in shape. Whenever I laughed or coughed, my stomach hurt — yes, it was THAT bad. Still, I hope to keep this promise to myself and will continue to walk in the chamber of horrors every Friday (if I survive). Wish me luck!
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