Next stop, Oxymoron Central

a good hurt??!!

I've heard that saying, and I think I've even said it, but seriously! What a ridiculous statement.

I started working out this week again. I dunno, some sort of brilliant idea about getting in shape for this 13 mile run I got suckered into...anyway. A couple of teachers work out after school a couple days a week (3 days, to be precise. 3 painfilled, agonizing, horrible days.) and I decided to join them.

Monday wasn't bad. The workout made me tired, but I assumed that it was just the whole "haven't done this in years....

****tangent****

when did I get old enough to start measuring my life in "years"? I mean, I guess it was about the time I turned 3. Then I could say "I haven't done this in 2 years" or something like that. But where did I hit that age when the number was TOO big and so instead of trying to remember - or worse, dating myself - the specifics were dropped, heretofore to be known as simply "years". To wit: I haven't been on a slide in "years". I haven't run through the sprinkler in "years". I haven't worked out in....

*************

.....thing", so I expected to get tired. Tuesday was fun. I was actually able to move, and for at least an hour, I was even able to move my arms. But, I am a music teacher, which means I move my arms A LOT in one day and as the day went on, the baton got heavier and heavier and heavier. And heavier.

Then Wednesday hit and we had the workout from HELL. (At least, I'm pretty sure it was from there. If not from THERE, then NEAR there. Maybe Phoenix?) We did arms and legs again, but this time, the legs were MUCH, much worse. We did lunges. And more lunges. And just when I wanted to die, we did more lunges. It was bad.

Thursday was worse. I could barely move! Sitting was fine. Standing was fine. Going from standing to sitting was AGONY and moving was an adventure, because I was never sure if my muscles were going to a) work at all, or b) give out on me and dump me on my butt in front of my students. Thankfully, that did not happen.

Friday was marginally better, and by now I'm fine!

So here I sit, in Oxymoron Central. Waiting for the next train to Good Hurt-ton.