Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Yesterday I went for my umpteenth training session with COLLEEN the gym training goddess and personal fitness Nazi. Apparently I'm not happy unless I can't get out of bed the next day. Like today. There was an exercise that involved a lunge and using muscles that haven't been used since I gave birth to my daughter. There were weights involved and the skinny perky titted twinkie was going, "You can do it! Just five more. Just twenty more. Just five more seconds. Here I'll wave a donut in front of your face and then not let you have it. Psych." In conclusion or in consequence, my inner thigh muscles and my butt muscles (of which have no need to be skinny because apparently my ass is one of the few parts of my body that is NOT actually fat) HURTS like a sonuvabitch. I'm told that I resembled a penguin whilst moving down my hallway this morning, which was not a comment that lended itself to anyone in my house getting any consideration out of me. Let me catalogue my woes. Inner thighs. Ouch. Butt cheeks. Owwy. Calves. Screw you. Back muscles. (Colleen LOVES to stick her finger in between my shoulder blades to make sure that I'm doing the exercise correctly. If I can crunch a walnut in between my shoulder blades I get to graduate to the next level.) Upper arms. Youch. Inner disposition. Why the hell do I do this to myself?