Monday, March 7, 2011

The First of the Flesh Wounds

When I awoke this morning, I tried to do what I normally do.  That is, reach over and hit the alarm clock so it will shut up.  However, that motion of taking my hand from under my pillow and reaching over to the nightstand was EXCRUCIATING.

And I thought to myself, "Wow.  I really must have slept weird."

And about fifteen seconds later when I *tried* to push myself up on my arms and failed, I nearly cried.

But, the real pain did not set in until I actually rolled over on my back and tried to sit up.

Bad mistake.

My abs told me to refrain from any quick movements.

I wasn't going anywhere for at least the next few seconds.  

When the pain subsided, I slowly made my way out of the bed and downstairs for the freshly brewed coffee.  As I sipped I wondered why my armpits were KILLING ME.  What have I ever done to them except wash, shave, and deodorize them? 

About half way into the cup, which is when I start to actually wake up, I remembered some crucial information.

I did about eleventy hundred push ups at derby practice on Sunday.  And leg lifts that lasted for a minute at a pop.  Plus, I skated hard four of the last six days.  And, oh yeah, I haven't worked out since June... 


You would be surprised how many movements you make in a day that use your lats, pecs and triceps.  Just about all of them.  Including bathing, dressing, driving, eating, and breathing.

I just keep reminding myself that bathing suit season is just around the corner...

I think the new bikini is going to go swell with the HUGE bruises on my butt and the permananent marker derby numbers on both of my upper arms.  Hot, I tell ya...


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