Last week I went to the gym with a person who very nicely showed me how to use all the evil free weight equipment and was very encouraging about my good form (thanks to Susan Powter tapes - hee) and gave me a very good list of things I can do to improve my somewhat lackluster workout routine.
Then Friday morning I awoke unable to move my legs. And I stayed in bed all day. I hobbled downstairs to eat lunch (seriously, I took the stairs on my ass) and to get dinner. My roommates immediately took to calling me "gimpy."
There's no point here. I've learned nothing from this experience except that when I do calf raises I probably shouldn't have 45 pounds on the machine.
OTOH, I bet that workout and the way your legs felt afterward made you forget about that lousy bus ride.
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