Good Pain

Hey there, ‘Redheads… Happy Chinese New Year…in bed. Wow, is it the Year of the Rabbit already? The time does fly. So, remember, a couple blogs ago, when I told you that I was going to the gym? Rockin’ the treadmill, breaking sweat like plates at a Greek wedding. Yeah, well, y’know what I wasn’t doing? Any actual exercise. When we redeemed the Groupon over at Results Gym last week, I signed up for a one time consult with a trainer, so I could make sure I wasn’t doing anything incorrectly. Well, that consult was today. The initial result? OUCH. I’m more lactic acid now than man; twisted and evil. I wince when I walk, I whimper when I sit, and I whine when I stand up. Then my girlfriend reminds me that I am a giant baby. She’s tough, but fair. I have muscle groups that have woken up out of a three year coma. My biceps are pissed because I didn’t maintain their haircut and my glutes can’t believe the president is black. This is what I wanted, though. The pain lets me know that I actually did something and begs me to never do it again. We went through a pretty basic regimen that included lunges, push-ups, dips, and curls. The lunges came first and after the second set, my legs turned to pudding. I was about as sure footed as Bambi on a frozen pond. And most of these exercises were done in front of a mirror so I could see my face contort with each exasperated rep. All of this will hopefully get my cardio up to a level of non-embarrassment. The goal I’ve set for myself is to run in Survive DC when it comes around again this year without wheezing after the first all out sprint. I’ll, of course, keep you posted. I’ll have a bag of frozen peas on my ass in the meantime.

See you Friday.

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