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Thursday, June 9, 2011


I admit that, over the last week and a half, my attempts at fitness have not been overzealous, though persistent.  At the risk of sounding silly, I've been taking it easy because I hate sweating.  If I sweat during my workout, I'm going to want and need a shower afterwards, meaning that I have to plan time in the middle of my day to shower and put myself together.  It throws me all out of sync.

I've managed to burn some significant calories doing low-impact cardio for longer times and some weight training.  Tuesday, I decided to take the aerobics class at the gym since I was already staying later that day. I was a little nervous about exercising in a group setting (I won't use machines if I've seen someone else working on them), but I'd seen the people going into the class and, no offense, was sure I'd be fine.

Boy, was I wrong! The instructor had me jumping all over an aerobics step and doing tons of reps with a heavier dumbbell than I'd ever used at home.  I made sure I stretched, even though my classmates headed straight to the locker rooms after their last set.  I thought I'd be fine-wrong again. Several hours later, I could feel the tired achey-ness setting in.  By the next morning, I was in agony. Agony, I tell you. I felt like my legs were going to collapse out from underneath me at any given moment. Stairs were torture. My chest hurt so badly that I could hardly stretch it out.  Don't even get me started on my glutes.

I drank plenty of water, warmed my muscles up and stretched, but today I feel no different.  I haven't lost any pounds, either.  I feel a little smaller in some areas, but nothing like I was hoping. I guess I better go get on the treadmill again.

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