Keep Chopping Wood And Taking Advil

Five miles was a bad choice yesterday. I’m in all kinds of pain. My feet and knees don’t hurt, which is great, but everything else… My hips feel like I gave birth. Gettin’ my Usain Bolt on at the end of the run yesterday was dumb on my part. I have to work up to stupid stuff like that. I can’t jump into sprints after a long running lay off, especially when it was so hot outside yesterday. I wasn’t supposed to be doing them anyway, that’s what I get. The agony helped me take things slowly at the gym, which was good – safety first. The whole session – weights and cardio – took almost three hours, but I had a meeting cancel at the last moment this morning so I had a hole in my day. It all worked out. I set my expectations very low, so I hit all of my goals, but it still took me twenty minutes to work the lactic acid out of my legs on the elliptical. I don’t understand how I always forget this stuff. Running hits the legs in an entirely different way than the elliptical machine. The plus side is that I worked hard yesterday and had a kind of recovery day today. That’s the way it’s supposed to work. Stretching also works. I never had to stretch when I was young. It would frustrate me when professional athletes, mostly in their thirties, would pull muscles and blame it on not stretching or warming up properly. I thought that was stupid. Now I understand. Now I stretch the way I’m supposed to stretch. A year from now I’m going to start a whole new aggressive yoga trend. I’m also continuing to drop the poundage, which is the main exercise of all this exercise. A week or two from now all the clothes that I outgrew when LMJ showed up will fit me again, and it’s going to be like I have a whole new wardrobe. I’m happy with myself for making progress on this fitness thing because it is beyond a bitch.