I told myself so…
GRIN # 74
I went, I saw, I lunged, I squatted. And today I’m damn near bedridden.
Why didn’t I stop? That is a fantastic question.
Because I’m an idiot, a masochist and vain. Because everyone else was doing it like it was no big deal. I just don’t get it. It hurt so BAD!! And I’m not a wimp. I work out a lot–just not like that.
After class, one person came up to me and said, “Don’t feel bad. I’ve been doing this for a year, and I still get really sore.”
Well, that’s a ringing endorsement. Or code for “Run away!”
Working with a trainer–and other people–gives an incentive to push past your comfort zone, I guess. And people actually pay good money for the privilege!
Damn, I can just go bike riding with Jerry if I want to torture myself that bad.
I came home and promptly ate a nice healthy lunch followed by about two pounds of Easter candy and half of Tyler’s chocolate Lindt bunny, the latter of which I ate right in front of the painter. I figure chocolate binges should be conducted in private, like picking your nose, but I couldn’t help it. I deserved that rabbit head even if it meant gnawing it off in the middle of a conversation.
So I’m not going back. Because of the cost. Not because I can’t walk.