No, I'm Not Having a Heart Attack, It's Just My Bicep is Sore. Really.

So, over the last couple of days I've been getting back into my workout program, and much to my joy have discovered I actually haven't lost much. I like to have a workout plan before I start, so that if it's too hard I use it as a goal to keep pushing through. When I had planned to do 20 minutes of cardio, I thought it was going to be tough, when in all actuality, I finished it thinking, "I could have possibly doubled that".


I was obviously delirious.


Perhaps it was the hum of a treadmill that I missed. Or the clanking of weights together along with the melodic grunting of some of the more awkward wannabe athletes at the gym, but suddenly I thought, "Hey, if I underestimated my cardio, then maybe I underestimated the weights too!"


I think you see where this is going.


So, I decided to do not only high rep, but heavy weights too. Yesterday I was stiff and sore, but it was "a good sore". Today I'm stiff and sore, but it's a "kill me now" sore.


No, really, it would be a humane killing. A mercy killing, if you will.

I know what all of you are thinking, "but it's worth it Kelly! Or, it will be worth it when you see the results you want!". Let me tell you, it kinda feels like it's similar to saying, "let me punch you in the nose to clear up your sinuses". It might be worth it, but dang it better work.

So until my next appointed sweat sesh later this afternoon, I'll be laying on the couch watching The Hustler (which I'm watching for the first time, and so far, I do believe Mr. Paul Newman might be one of the dreamiest men ever) and trying to move as little as possible. Even my abs are telling me to stop breathing.

And you think about that mercy killing.