Feeling the Burn

Last night, a friend invited Dallas and me to the gym for a BODYPUMP class.

I am in hell.

My quads are screaming. My arms are dead weight. My pecs are throbbing. My buttocks are ON FIRE. I involuntarily shrieked this morning trying to lower myself onto the potty. Arranging my hair into some semblance of an acceptable coif made me cry.

It started out pleasantly enough with a warm up set that got the juices flowing but wasn't horribly demanding. In true cavalier fashion, I added a bit of weight to my bar and hunkered down for the next set, confident in my strength and abilities. About thirty seconds into the second set, I looked around the class, wild-eyed, willing the teacher to take a break. We were working on legs, doing rep after rep of squats.

Our instructor was encouraging us saying things like,"Stick your bottom out further!" and "Plant your heels on floor!"

"Die," I thought.

The third set worked chest. The fourth set was back. Fifth was shoulders. Then, we moved on to triceps and biceps. Somewhere near the end, we were told to do lunges. I looked over at Dallas and watched his eyes roll up into the back of his head. Then, we went back to squats and because I am a fart magnet, I prayed the woman in front of me hadn't had beans or broccoli for dinner.

Finally, we got to the abdominal exercises. I may have wept for joy because although the number of reps made me want to vomit, we got to lay down on the floor. This was an improvement. At the very end, we did a few minutes of stretching to cool down. Every large muscle in my body was already quivering.

I had to go up a flight of stairs to retrieve Olivia from the daycare center. Going up was magnificently painful. Coming down was agonizing. As Liv and I walked through the parking lot, we could see Dallas ahead. He was trying very hard not to bend his knees and when he stepped up onto the sidewalk, I nearly wet my pants with laughter.

I know that the pain is going to be bad tomorrow but I'll still go to class because my rear end spread like smooth peanut butter on a slice of toast during the holidays. I will say that one unexpected bonus of strenuous exercise is the boost in willpower.

Manchild's birthday was last night and as the kids were slicing into his chocolate cake, I didn't have one measly flutter of a hankering for a bite. NOT BLOODY WORTH THE CALORIES, I thought.

And that, my friends, was a first for me.