Friday I went back to the gym to work out again. By Friday morning I was still pretty sore, but at least I could sit down on the toilet, put my socks on and reach to the back seat to "whack a kid" who was being noisy in the car.
I felt like I could handle it, take my beating and be on with my day. I was soooooooo wrong. Did you know that you can actually work out so hard (lifting weights, not running) that you throw up? I did not know that, and had I known I am pretty sure I wouldn't have let The Devil punish me so much.
I can say that I didn't actually vomit (which would have been more embarassing than me just carrying the garbage can around "just in case") but man oh man did I come close several times.
I am pretty ashamed of myself for getting into this kind of shape. Honestly it is just amazing to me to look at my body now compared to ten years ago. Why oh why didn't I wear bikinis more???
The good news is that I tried hard no to slack off and I actually had the beginnings of that "runners high" that people talk about, where you actually feel GOOD after working out, not wishing you were on a stretcher.
I did some little things over the weekend, lunges, stretching, etc and was ready to go yesterday. I ate right, I even washed my workout gear, I was mentally prepared to really push myself. And then our trainer "forgot" and never showed up.
So I felt a little guilty for staying and working out instead of heading back to the office, but I did go through with a workout and pushed myself as much as I could without barfing. However, I guess I didn't do a good enough job. If the measure of how hard I worked is whether or not I can sit on the toilet, then I did a pretty crappy job by myself.
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