So Sore

Guys, I am so sore. I don’t think I can clearly express this feeling. I am basically immobile. Here’s what happened: Tuesday, I was going to see a free movie pre-screening with a friend after work (shout out Fatima for the free pass, and shout out Ryan Reynolds for being so adorable). Since I knew I couldn’t go to the gym after work, I decided to go to a 6:30 am class that my friend Hannah was teaching. I used to teach this same exact class, Les Mills Grit, at 6:30 am on Thursdays. But then I found my sanity, realized that it did not make rational sense to wake up at 5:30 in the morning, and I gave my class to Hannah. She now teaches at that ungodly hour TWICE A WEEK. She is a stronger person than I am. In more ways than one. Anyway, I met her outside her apartment at 5:30 am, in the dead of night, and we took the subway down to Brooklyn. Les Mills Grit is a high intensity interval training (HIIT) workout, and the strength version of Grit uses a barbell, weight plates, and body weight to improve strength and build lean muscle. In theory. In REALITY, what it does is KICK YOUR ASS. And your quads. Mostly your quads.

Yesterday, Wednesday, I was incredibly sore so I went to Peloton (remember my blog about that place?) in an attempt to shake out my legs. I was planning on having terrible stats, since I could barely move. I actually ended up performing incredibly well, top ten in the class, and beat my personal best overall output. This was mostly because my legs were physically unable to move quickly, so I just ramped up the resistance. Today, my legs are EVEN WORSE.

Here are a few things I am unable to do, thanks to being a cripple:

• Walk. Now it’s more like a wobble. Or waddle. I swear I used to be able to walk without looking like I was wearing a full diaper.
• Use the bathroom. It’s going to be an uncomfortable week doing the pee-pee dance until it is ABSOLUTELY necessary. Maybe I SHOULD wear a diaper.
• Pick things up from the ground. If I drop something, I am considering it a “pay it forward.” Maybe I’ll make someone’s day. Unless It’s a dollar. Then I will struggle.
• Stand up from a seated position. I need handicapped railings at my desk. STAT.
• Bend or crouch.

So basically, all I can do is sit. And I can’t get up. I’m like the woman on that Life Alert commercial from days of yore. 1987 to be exact. If you need me, you know where to find me. Exactly where I was when you left me.