Page 10 of The TV Show Rival

Another comment popped up, this one from a seemingly neutral observer: “Hmm, maybe there’s room for both bootcamp and yoga in a well-rounded routine?”

This one made her pause. Maybe they were onto something... nah. Probably not. She left them a winking emoji.

But then came the fun part.

SunshinenSmiles: “Boot camp? More like boot camp for your ego, Jess! ‍?? Yoga builds strength AND flexibility, try it sometime.”

She scoffed, picturing someone trying to hurl a tractor tire in Lululemon leggings.

“Bless your heart, SunshinenSmiles, some of us need actual weights, not scented candles, to see results. #sorrynotsorry ‍??”

Some comments were downright nonsensical, like this one:

Muscle_Confusion: “Wow, Jess, projecting much? Maybe you’re just jealous you can’t touch your toes.”

She laughed so hard she almost choked. “He sounds as confused as his name and I’m already picturing a scrawny dude in his basement typing furiously.”

“Boot camp is SO 2010, Jess. Yoga builds strength AND flexibility. #balancedfitness”

She rolled her eyes. “Balanced? More like boring-and-bland fitness.”

Then she typed. “Flexibility is great, until you gotta hurdle a fire pit, Karen. #priorities”

“Boot camp is intense, but isn’t there a risk of injury? Maybe some low-impact stuff for recovery?”

She paused. This comment required a more strategic response.

“Absolutely! Rest and recovery are crucial. Boot camp can be modified for all fitness levels, and we always focus on proper form to minimize risk. #smarternotjuststronger,” she typed in response.

The back-and-forth continued to blow up the comment section, a hilarious mix of support, jabs, outrage, and the occasional misguided critique.

She scrolled through them all, thoroughly entertained. This was way more engaging than watching paint dry, which seemed to be the highlight of most fitness influencers’ feeds.

As she finished cleaning her plate, the satisfaction she felt went beyond the delicious breakfast. It was the satisfaction of stirring the pot, of starting a conversation about fitness that went beyond the usual cardio bunny routines.

“Bring on the comments, people! Boot camp Jess is ready for anything you throw her way.”

Friday night traffic proved a breeze compared to the usual weekday crawl. The beat-thumping music and celebratory playlist she had on full blast drowned out the honking and impatience.

Operation Surprise Mom was officially a go! Theo, bless his secretive heart, had managed to keep a poker face the entire week.

Even Riley, that ten-year-old walking spoiler alert, was surprisingly tight-lipped. Maybe all those spy movies they watched were finally paying off? Either way, she couldn’t wait to see the look on Mom’s face.

Her mom truly deserved the best. Raising her as a single mom at what, like, nineteen? Yeah, not easy. She remembered the late nights working double shifts, the ramen nights, the hand-me-downs from distant relatives, and the sheer exhaustion planted on her mom’s face some days.

But her mom never let it dim her light. She’d still manage a smile and a warm hug even when the world felt like it was crumbling around them. Now, she was finally in a position to show her some appreciation, a fraction of what her mom had given her, and her heart swelled with pride knowing she could finally do something special for her.

Speaking of special, Theo was a keeper. When they met, he’d just lost his wife, and Riley was barely five.

Seeing her mom find love again, a love that’s as strong and steady as an oak tree, filled Jess with a joy she couldn’t describe.

Remembering how nervous her mom was to ask for her approval for their marriage made her chuckle. As if she wouldn’t be over the moon for anything that made her mom happy! Let’s just say the waterworks started flowing faster than Niagara Falls after she gave her mom a giant hug (and maybe a couple of tissues).

Her mom had been on a mini business trip to Portland to source unique handmade goods for her boutique and she was coming back today to a big surprise. Well, a small party.

Now, the waiting game. Anticipation simmered like a forgotten pot on the stove. She could practically hear the doorbell chime in her head, announcing her mom’s arrival.

“Come on, traffic, clear up already! I can’t wait to see the look on her face. That’s the reward!”