Three years out of the gym for a squajillion spine thingies, and I’m back. My legs feel like concrete stove pipes and my hair even hurts. (We did pull ups hanging from my pony tail.)
I typically go after anything in beast mode. Not this time, dammit. Some of the machines I used to use are torture devices for me now, while the shredded bods come off them looking like they have implants in every muscle group. I’m still not convinced they don’t. 😉
So I do what I can, sweat like a lawn sprinkler, and occasionally push hard enough to see sparkles. It’s kind of a cool buzz, while it lasts.
My trainer assures me that I will be able to open a beer with my butt by July, which is motivation enough. Imagine putting that skill on a dating profile. I’d be married by this weekend.
Do what you can. It’s a 100 percent better than doing nothing, and it’s good for your noggin as well. Although after this morning’s session I went downtown and paid 15 bucks for a green smoothie. I reconciled that dumb decision by telling myself I needed what was in this thing I had to mortgage, and it may make me taller and a better dancer.
See you at the gym near the dumbbells. And the weights. 😉
P.S. I’ll be the one with a 2 pound dumbbell in my ponytail. Like a Pebbles Flinstone bone. 😀