I so loathe everything about exercise. Needless to say, I am trying to get into better shape. Like I am a square shape and want to look more like the shape of a triangle, with a few circles on top. Anyway, I talked Brant into playing racquetball with me this morning. Big mistake. Mr. Gold's Gym is a raving maniac--okay, not really, he's just 12 years younger than me. He would not let me stop to rest, drink, or die. We put in a good 30 minutes and I was ready to be rolled home. He insisted that I hop on the treadmill for a "few" minutes. Apparently he thinks few and twenty are the same thing.
Now I am home and can't move. I think rigor mortis is setting in.
1 comment:
Exercise sucks. Do you remember our die-hard trainer in Page? I believe you were also related to him. What is with you guys? I believe I told him my favorite part about exercising was when I was done. Some things never change. Good luck with the transformation.
Post a Comment