This woman's six pack has six more pack than I will ever have
I've had a fabled legacy of rapid weight loss and rapid weight gain. Evidently I love oscillating between overweight and underweight, as I continue to do it (quick demo: May 2006 - 272 pounds, December 2006 - 185 pounds, June 2009 - 218 pounds, September 2009 - 200 pounds) all the time, mostly because of an equal distaste for being overweight and an incredible love of food. Right now I'm at my highest weight in a little under three years, so I'm really focusing on getting that back under control with a little help from my friend Joanne. Together we've established goals and this week we started working out to get to that goal.
Part of our routine is that we are alternating days controlling the workout, with one person dicatating precisely what we will be doing on any given day. Essentially what this means is one person will effectively torture the other person, and we will alternate who that person is on a day to day basis. There is really no way this is going to end well, as I sort of see it escalating for months and someone ending up in tears (or with a severe adversity to exercising).
Given that I'm a far superior runner, I of course laid an opening salvo on Monday of chest exercises and then lots and lots of running, in which I stated the rules: start at a decent speed for 2 minutes to warm up, and from there you must increase your speed three times every two minutes, and then you can slow down after the last interval is up. Repeat for 25 minutes. Predictably, my running routine dominated Joanne and I felt victorious. Or at least I would have if it weren't the first time I had worked out in two months and I sort of felt like dying. Perhaps that is what victory feels like? I'm unsure, but I digress.
Given such a stunning opener, I figured Joanne would have laid down in defeat, stating a need to "go to the chiropractor" or some sort of excuse of that sort. However, I evidently underestimated her tenacity or spitefulness, as yesterday she reigned holy hell upon my body.
Here's a hint: when someone asks you if you've ever done core exercises before, respond to them with the following statement - "no, and I do not want to."
Core is evidently exercise lingo for "body death," as while I was doing a series of exercises that involved treacherously balancing on an upside down ball (with flattened bottom to stand on) while doing different weighted motions, I slowly but surely realized I was hurting in a lot of places. At points, I would ask Joanne "why does (insert body part here) hurt?" and she would respond with "because you're exercising that." Core exercising is the ninja of the fitness world - it hurts you without you even being aware of it.
To top that off, I woke up this morning and realized that my abs, hamstrings, shoulders, and triceps hurt. How many different things can you think of that hurt all of those simultaneously? Soccer...car wrecks...sky diving injuries. That's about it. Add core excerises to that.
Excuse me though. I need to go, as I have to ice my entire body.