Raising the Bar

Recently I decided to up the intensity of my workouts. I’ve been faithfully going to the gym for about two years, but doing such an easy workout I’m not seeing huge results. I was fine with that because I’m not a natural gym rat and I knew if I made the workouts too severe I would grow to hate them and find an excuse to quit. But I finally decided I wanted visible results, so over the last three days I worked and strained every muscle in my body, and viola! Every square inch of me is sore. Side note – viola is French for “I hurt.”

My chest and back have mostly recovered, but some of my backup muscles are still in agony. Chief among them are the stringy bits that clamp my thighs together. Why, as a man, do I need the superhuman ability to close my legs? Maybe I can learn to crack walnuts with my knees.

I don’t know about the rest of you, but I like this sore feeling. It’s a painful reminder that I actually did something good for my body. Yea for me! I’m going to curl up under my desk and whimper now.