Watch it Wiggle

Special K and I have been pretty good about getting up early and going to the gym. Granted, one of us usually has to be the drill sergeant and say “okay, time to get up!” or we’d play snooze tag until 7, but we do actually end up getting out the door, which is the important part. We’ve mostly been doing cardio, and today we decided to add weight training to our routine.

Oh.

My.

Gosh.

My arms (we did upper body work) are like jello. Lifting my arm to apply deodorant this morning felt like a monumental achievement because the muscles are, to say the least, fatigued. I know that this is all going to get easier and we’re doing this for a good reason, but I am not looking forward to tomorrow. Because I know tomorrow I’m going to go from fatigued muscles to total agony. I have a feeling that putting on a t-shirt may tax my pain threshold, so getting dressed will be an adventure.

It’s good, though, that we do this together and support and encourage each other. Usually we’re silent and half asleep on our way to the gym. Then we get there and spend about 45 minutes working really, really hard, and on the way home, one of us will inevitably say “you know, I’m really glad we went this morning.”

Which is not the same as being glad that we woke up at the ass-crack of dawn. No one should ever be glad about that.