Week Four: It's Week 4 and I'm SoreBut Proud of Myself
OUUUUUUCH!!!!That’s the word that best describes my experience of the last week.
Thats the word that best describes my experience of the last week. First off, I approached the start of the week with dread. Tehera and I had already agreed that, since Id been traveling so much, once I was back, I was going to have to make up for lost time in the gym.
So I approach Monday with extreme trepidation. But Im also strangely excited to finally get things moving with some sort of regularity in terms of my regimen. Man, Ive got pounds to lose and sculpting to see.
Right off the bat, I hit a snag. Despite trying to play it safe by scheduling my workout for 7:30 pm, a midday warning from my boss that “it will be a late night” as we attempt to send our anniversary issue to press ensures that any attempt on my part to walk out of the office at 7:00 probably won't happen.
My work out would likely be understood, but seen as inopportune, given the deadline pressure looming. A quick text to Tehera to give her a heads-up results in our committing to workouts scheduled for the remaining workdays of the week.
Well, Im proud to say that I did it. And I lived to tell the tale. To avoid timing conflicts, all workouts for the week were scheduled for early morning, before work. And did I mention we were going through a heatwave at the time, in which just breathing made you sweat? But I digress.
Here I was, delving into merciless (Tehera is a beast) exercise when my body hasnt stretched or lunged or pulled in this fashion in years made me feel as though every inch of my body had actually been broken. I was sore, I was mad, I was frustrated, I was tired—even the slightest exertion made me sweat and strain.
But I also felt a sense of accomplishment with each twinge of pain and stiffness afterward, because it assured me that I was indeed DOING SOMETHING that was going to bring me results. And I was doing something FOR ME.
The discomfort also made me acutely aware of what I was eating (it hurt to lift my arms!)—and what I didnt want to eat to retard any progress Id made during the week. I have no idea if I lost any pounds (I refuse to weigh myself) this week, but I do know that I made the commitment to do something that was incredibly difficult—and Im proud of myself for getting up each morning and following through.
By weeks end, Im exhausted and really sore. But in a strange way, I look forward to picking it up again in a few days (even Tehera feels I need a break after the workout marathon) because with each session, I know my resistance will be better and stronger. Well, thats what I say now, anyway.