October 18, 2010

Of Cowboys, Primates and Cheeseballs

You know that machine at the gym that works your inner thighs, Suzanne Somer style? You know, the one that you sit on and squeeze your thighs together while every man in the gym tries to ignore the fact that there is a girl on that machine, but they. just. can't. do. it. It's. just. too. temping. to. look. . . Well, I am fairly certain that it maimed me for life.

For some people, the soreness of a good workout kicks in within 24 hours; but I am a 48 hour girl. If I work out on Saturday, I will pay on Monday. Oh, how I am paying today.

Did you ever play with magnets as a kid? Did you ever try to push two together that just don't like each other? Remember how challenging it is to do that and how they just won't touch? That would be my thighs today. The inner thigh area of each leg is protesting so vehemently against the other that I swear those two haven't even high-fived all day long.

Thanks to this annoying, yet protective reaction of those very sore muscles, I appear to be walking as if I have been riding a horse for much of the day month. Look out John Wayne because this girl can walk cowboy like no other. Giddy-up y'all.

In addition to the thigh problem, every time I try to turn my body without turning my entire body, my abdominal muscles are grabbing onto my hip bones and screaming out loud as if they are in the evil grasps of a wicked tornado, threatening to fling them off into eternity forever. I'm also sort of walking like a primate.

A cowboy primate. Now that is hot.

I've also discovered something not so nice about working out. For the past few months, I've been working out hard, concentrating on strengthing my legs and getting back into nai-hanchi stance shape again. I've done hundreds of squats and lunges. I've worked hard on calf raises, leg lifts, and the leg press. I've logged hundreds of miles on the stationary bike, and I've done hamstring curls until my whole body shakes from the effort they take.

Despite all of this working out, I've been "rewarded" with jeans that are entirely too snug. My legs and butt are bigger than they were months ago; and they are not at all liking the confinement inside my jeans. They are big and hungry and they would much rather wear pajama pants or sweatpants. I am probably going to have to go buy a bigger size pretty soon as these muscular buns and thighs threaten to take out my whole pant wardrobe.I can't help thinking that it would have probably been a whole lot more fun to eat my way through pounds of cheeseballs in order to move up a size, instead of working out so diligently. Somehow, it just doesn't seem fair.