This is my hell, and I am headed back in today.

Why do I do this? It's a good question. Since starting a regular workout routine a number of years ago, I have exposed by body to all kinds of torture: boxing, boot camps, cardio, yoga, hot yoga, weight lifting, Barre classes, Pilates, pushups, battle ropes, spinning and even running those incredibly evil stairs at Concordia University!

I mean, what am I doing to myself? Has my body done something to offend me? I don’t remember being upset with it. All I know is that I walk into hell religiously 3-4 days a week.

Every workout is different, and my group never really knows what is in store for us when we show up for class. What we do know is that there is this love-hate relationship we've got going on with our instructors.

We like them as people. I mean they are fun to talk to, but when the music starts, that’s when hell begins – and yes, there is always music; it’s like we are in a techno dance club, and any minute, a half-naked man with a test tube drink will show up. I wish.

The pace is unrelenting. A few weeks ago, this was actually uttered by instructor Lynn: "Yes, I know you can't feel your legs, you're sweating profusely and you can't breath, but keep going!"

Wow! You are really selling me on this, Lynn.

The music and the torture continues. After an hour, we all collapse into a panting pile. Done for another day. And even though we are exhausted, there is a sense of euphoria and pride. Here we are standing as a testament to what the human body can and will endure.

Why do we do it? We are women that like the challenge. We are all women who have watched as their bodies have been reshaped, and we are healthier for it. None of us are athletes, but we feel like one now.

So in 24 hours, we'll be back. The women warriors who have forged a friendship through pain will walk through the doors of hell again and what fun it will be!