Sir, Yes, Sir!

On a gray November morning, I find myself down on my hands and knees in the middle of a muddy field. Push-ups. The stuff of recruitment films or high school gym-class nightmares. The ground is cold and squishy, and I am convinced that I feel the first few drops of rain.

There's a reason new military recruits are put through boot camp: to make them strong and fit and all that they can be. But could this hard-core approach work for a 40-something mother of two known for wearing elastic-waist maternity pants even though her kids are in grade school? Could I really be all that I never was?

Boot camp. The name says it all. The words conjure images of a rigid military workout complete with an invective-spewing drill sergeant from the "get down and give me 20" school of fitness. Not exactly a warm fuzzy.

Then why are so many civilians from around the Beltway signing up for exercise boot camps? Blame television, or at least the time we spend sitting in front of it. Shows such as "The Biggest Loser," "Work Out" and "Celebrity Fit Club" have raised our boot camp awareness and helped increase its popularity. Even Oprah launched her own boot camp exercise routine last year.

In the Washington area, the godfather of fitness boot camps is Patrick "The Sarge" Avon, who founded the Sergeant's Program in 1989.

Avon, 44, a former Navy fitness instructor, swears people want to be pushed by a drill sergeant, and pushed hard.

"They love the discipline. They need the discipline," says Avon, who answers his phone with a booming "Hoo-ah" and tools around town in a Ford Mustang muscle car sporting the license plate: "LOSE FAT."

Avon was a man ahead of the curve. He started the Sergeant's Program 18 years ago with a few ads tacked up on telephone poles. Today he employs 50 drill instructors, holds more than 30 boot camp classes and enrolls more than 800 students in Arlington, Fairfax, Montgomery and Prince George's counties, as well as the District.

To be honest, I wasn't looking for tough love -- I wanted a kinder, gentler approach to fitness. I enlisted in the Active Duty Fitness for Women boot camp in mid-November. It's a women-only exercise program that meets four days a week for an hour at a local park and indoors at the neighborhood YMCA when the temperature drops below freezing.

As with most boot camps, there is no newfangled equipment, no machines or treadmills. It's just man, or in this case woman, and the elements. I embarked on a training regime that relies on straightforward, no-nonsense exercises, a few stretchy bands and an act of sheer will.

What is new is the approach: There's no hint of the "Thank you, sir, may I have another," gut-it-out training style. Exercise is not a punishment to be doled out, but rather it serves as its own reward.

"Women prefer positive reinforcement and camaraderie," says Doug Vasiliadis, creator of Active Duty Fitness for Women, which has seven locations in Virginia. "They're just not going to respond as well to a militaristic approach."