This is why I prefer being lazy.
After such a long time without exercising and with my yoga class coming up this month, I wanted to get myself used to the repeated use of my probably-atrophied-by-now muscles.
Like a good boy, I did my hour of cardio, and can I just say, WOW, I forgot how much I sweated because, JESUS. Each time I wiped my face with a sleeve, it was like I painting in sweat. My poor shirt.
ANYWAY, I was feeling pretty good about myself and feeling like I could do anything (stupid endorphins!), and felt confident enough to take on my weight bench. Now here's the thing: I hate lifting weights, I hate bench-pressing, I just hate any exercise routine that requires me to push or lift anything.
Now, it'd been a while since I last used the weight bench and because I wasn't sure what I could do in my current state of non-musculature, I decided I'd start off pretty low in terms of total weight. And I did my routine and everything seemed fine, enough to make me rethink my hatred of weight training.
Holy crap, was I wrong. This morning, in one of those groggy states of semi-consciousness where you move around to change positions, my poor left arm was in so much pain. Like, any bending of my arm sent shooting pains to the, what's that muscle called right above the elbow? The delts? No, that's somewhere in the leg, I think. Tricep? I think that's located a bit higher, but anyway, whatever muscle thing that's right above the elbow was throbbing.
It's been that way ever since and only now, after hours of applying my generic Ben-Gay (Cold Burning, or Icy Hot, or some other insipid title. No wait, it's called Cool Heat. Heh.), I can now manuever my poor left arm to a 45 degree angle, even though it hurts like a bitch when I do it.
There's no bruising or popped bones or anything of the sort, so no need for a hospital visit, but still: stupid exercising!
Like a good boy, I did my hour of cardio, and can I just say, WOW, I forgot how much I sweated because, JESUS. Each time I wiped my face with a sleeve, it was like I painting in sweat. My poor shirt.
ANYWAY, I was feeling pretty good about myself and feeling like I could do anything (stupid endorphins!), and felt confident enough to take on my weight bench. Now here's the thing: I hate lifting weights, I hate bench-pressing, I just hate any exercise routine that requires me to push or lift anything.
Now, it'd been a while since I last used the weight bench and because I wasn't sure what I could do in my current state of non-musculature, I decided I'd start off pretty low in terms of total weight. And I did my routine and everything seemed fine, enough to make me rethink my hatred of weight training.
Holy crap, was I wrong. This morning, in one of those groggy states of semi-consciousness where you move around to change positions, my poor left arm was in so much pain. Like, any bending of my arm sent shooting pains to the, what's that muscle called right above the elbow? The delts? No, that's somewhere in the leg, I think. Tricep? I think that's located a bit higher, but anyway, whatever muscle thing that's right above the elbow was throbbing.
It's been that way ever since and only now, after hours of applying my generic Ben-Gay (Cold Burning, or Icy Hot, or some other insipid title. No wait, it's called Cool Heat. Heh.), I can now manuever my poor left arm to a 45 degree angle, even though it hurts like a bitch when I do it.
There's no bruising or popped bones or anything of the sort, so no need for a hospital visit, but still: stupid exercising!
posted by John M at 4:56 PM
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