I started a fitness challenge at our local gym in January. It was Kay’s idea, I begrudgingly signed up because she kept asking me if I did. So I did. Sigh. The t-shirt better fit and be awesome or I’m going to protest. Mostly internally but a little bit out loud. It’s not that bad, sometimes I just like to whine. * cue jazz hands* Draaamaaa*end jazz hands*
I’ve averaged about 10 points a week. Not too shabby. Last week I managed to get in 16! Motivating the hubs helped in that regard, it got in some extra time. Then the soreness and tweaks set in and I decided to rest my body, which was not an idea my physical therapist was opposed to. My total points for this week, the final week, will be 4. From 16 to 4. Huh. I had to stop myself from turning around and doing some more this morning when I realized that this was the final week. Mentally I started going over my day and could I fit another round in today and how many would I have if I made tomorrow twice and then my knees looked up at me and said “Hey! Remember us down here? Our down the leg neighbors the Achilles Twins and the neighbors that live above us asked us to help remind you why you are resting this week. Without us you won’t get far. It’s okay to let us rest.” And my mind wondered if the guy who runs the challenge (whom I sent off a fiery email to last week in a fit of confusion, panic and caffeine overload…I apologized which I am sure made me look even more cru-ray-zee…sorry) will think I’m a quitter when he adds up my points this week. That I’ve reverted back to my old habits, except I’ll have gone 4 times instead of 0 so really I didn’t either way. Anyway. I flipped my hood up shrugged my achy shoulders and walked through the double doors into the cold morning air. Where in crap is spring?!?