Kid Dynamite Is Dead

Four days, eight hours of exercise, unknown gallons of lactic acid, extreme levels of pain. This week went well as I continue to get back into the swing of lifting weights. I took it easy on my legs last week in the hopes that I could trick them into overlooking that I added lifting back to the routine. It didn’t work. I did my legs, the whole program, on Monday. The soreness increased steadily up through yesterday. I was walking like a zombie with a dump in my pants. It was incredibly difficult not to grimace as I moved. The pain started to subside today. I think I blasted my legs into submission. Even though I added weights this week I still did my hour of cardio every day. Once I got going everything was fine. Once I stopped, my legs plotted their revenge. Now my legs are just stiff or I have lupus. The family was in the backyard this evening hitting a plastic softball off a tee. I was trying to play the field. If the ball was hit directly at me I caught it. There’s nothing wrong with my upper body or eye hand coordination. If the ball was hit more than a foot to the left or right of me it flew by me because my legs refused to budge. I would be bouncing on my toes with my knees bent ready to react, but when I tried to move I could actually sense that in some small sentience my legs refused to budge. I hate getting old. I want to know why my body has to break down. There was biochemical stuff that healed my body almost instantly when I was a teenager, why can’t it just do that now? What changed? Why do my healing abilities continue getting more and more inefficient? I don’t like being relegated to distance running as a sport. I want to be explosive again.