We Are Currently Unable to Move

So Matt and I started working out. Not together, of course. I think we tried running together. Once.

"So, do you want to actually start running now?"

"I am running. Look at me. This is running."

"No, I mean like real running. Like fast."

Anyway, we joined the local Y. Our kids are already part of the swim team and they go to a homeschool PE class (yes, it's a thing). Matt is working out with his dad M-W-F and I'm taking a Tabata class with my mother-in-law Tuesdays and Thursday. Tabata is a circuit training class consisting of 20 seconds of torture and 10 seconds of rest.

The workouts start at 5:30 (in the morning! it's crazy!) and we both get up then just to keep a schedule. Matt and his dad worked on shoulders and arms Monday so he was really sore the next day.

I went to my Tabata class Tues all full of hope and confidence which is how I usually am but even I admit it's strange to have confidence despite having no good reason to have it. First everyone warms up on the treadmill for 5 minutes. After the 5 minutes, I really felt like I was done. 'Ok, that was fun but it really feels like I should be done with the workout now...' But no, into another room for the class. First off, I notice that one wall is completely covered in wall to floor mirrors. That was the first indication of something terrible about to happen. Then the warm-up began (the treadmill warm-up was apparently the pre-warm-up). We're tapping our toes side to side and lunging a little bit and I'm thinking 'Alright, ok, feels good. I can totally handle this. I work out with Denise Austin, who seems like she genuinely likes me and thinks I'm doing a great job. Heck, sometimes I work out with Jillian Michaels, who seems like she genuinely wants to punch me in the face for being such a huge waste of space.' But after about 20 seconds of this, the alarm bells in my mind start ringing. My thighs are burning. Geez, how much longer of this hour class do I have?

53 minutes.

A little while later we're doing jumping jacks and let me tell you: There is nothing like watching yourself perform jumping jacks in front of a mirror to make yourself realize that you have made a very bad decision regarding your sports bra. Those ligaments will never be the same. Ever.

We did these strange oblique exercises where we're lying on our backs up on one hip and scrunching forward, scrissoring our legs. The teacher keeps saying "Get on the meaty part of your backside!" and I can't figure out what part of it would be considered not meaty. It's probably not a good thing to be proud of but I seemed to be comfortable cushioned no matter what.

So the whole day Tuesday my thighs hurt whenever I moved up or down.

(Slowly getting up from a chair) "Ahhhh no, that's terrible, ahhhh..."

(Slowly lowering myself to pee) "You know, I can pee later. No big deal. I just won't drink today. I can drink tomorrow."

Matt was also faring poorly. He couldn't raise his arms much so had to drive just gripping the wheel with his fingers at the bottom. Tuesday night he was unbuttoning his dress shirt and taking it off slowly while grimacing. It reminded me of a movie scene where someone has been shot in the torso and is taking off his shirt in painstaking motions.

We are quite the pair.

It will get better working out this coming week but I still have a problem. If I'm not exercising much and am eating a lot I just think 'Oh well, I'm already squishy. What's the harm in another cupcake?'

If I'm exercising regularly I think 'I've already burned this cupcake off this morning so it cancels it out. Also, yay me for doing stuff. I deserve a reward after all those flipping jumping jacks. Good job, me. Enjoy that cupcake.'

Mmmm, cupcakes. Now if only my legs could make it to the kitchen...