Even The Toilet Hates Me

Well, so much for the diligence. I certainly did drag my tush out of bed around 6 a.m.Then, I went downstairs to start my workout, but not before lethargically plopping onto the couch for one last rest. But no worries, not even five minutes went by before I conceded to put on my sweat gear. I started with an eight minute jog around my neighborhood, I simply decided to time it by the songs on my iPod Nano. It was spitting cold rain but by the time I made it back to my front doorstep my cheeks flushed a hot red. Only two years prior, I had run a marathon, a small feat of a 10K but it was huge to me. Now fastforward a year and a half later and I am panting after one small warmup. Grief I knew that was the beginning.

When I returned inside I promptly opened every window in the downstairs condo despite the frigid 55 degree temps outside. It felt wonderful. I pressed play on the DVD player and waited for the workout to begin. The night before I had skimmed the workout to review its complexity and involvement, but more so to know what in the hell I was getting myself into. Ha. Oh my. If I could only portray to you what it looks like for someone to follow along to a workout DVD for the first time. When the instructor swayed left, I swayed right, and threw an arm up to boot, just because it looked appropriate. I was always two steps behind so my arms flung like jelly across the room in an attempt to keep up. When I positioned myself horizontally with the ground I likely looked like a rigid garden gnome trying to do plank motions side-to-side. It. Was. A. Hoot. Thank the lord no one was there to witness my hilarious first workout attempt, though I am sure if it posted a video of it online it would go viral instantly. But I made it!!! That is the most important part.

Now let me fast forward to twenty-four hours after my workout. That tingling sensation I mentioned in my thighs turned into a slow burn, then gradually that slow burn turned into a Costa Rica Rainforest fire. At work I hustled around, wincing as I took each step. The real trial? Sitting on the toilet. I swear it hates me. So every time I begin a new workout I anticipate this moment. It never fails. I walk into the bathroom and try to sit down on the toilet before I realize my muscles are too weak to do so. I proceed by grabbing the nearest handicap bar support, bathroom vanity, tub or shower siding, whatever it takes, to lower myself onto the seat. The whole process is more of a plop that a lowering, I will admit. I practically fall onto the toilet seat as my thighs rage in burning pain. Now that is achievement.

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