So, one could say Saturday's work out was successful. To put it politely. I would say, I kicked my ass so hard that two days later I still can hardly walk. To put it impolitely. The small ice pack in this picture wouldn't do me any good. Not at all. I would need an ice bath. But that sounds terribly uncomfortable. How about a hot tub? Yes. Perfection. I need a hot tub. For about six hours straight. With perhaps a cocktail. You know, numb the pain. That sounds glorious. Absolutely glorious.
My brother tells me that this kind of pain is good for me. Mr. Super Athlete himself says that he's proud of my efforts and that the pain means that it's working. I certainly hope it's working. Because if this were all for not, we'd have major issues to sort through. I'm on a mission though. You all know this. And I'm not letting up or giving up due to the first few days of aches and pains. You better believe I'm stronger than that. Well, more determined anyway. Roxie told me today that the second day after a hard work out is supposed to hurt the most. I hope that's true. I also hope that day three lets up because I'm back in the gym tomorrow after work, says my training schedule. Yes, I made a schedule. I told you I was determined.
Along with my w.w. diet plan that I've returned to with my co-teacher, I'm hoping for at least small visual results soon. But even so, if not, I'm not giving up and I won't be discouraged. That's my fault you see. I lose patience. But not this time. Fingers crossed.
Happy Monday!
