Macros and Misadventures: Feeling the burn

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I have more lactic acid in me right now than Bruce Banner has gamma rays.

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The bad news is I’m hobbling around worse than my grandpa was before he had both his knees replaced.

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“How long will this stiffness/soreness stage last,” my friend asked.

“Twelve weeks.”

“How long is the challenge again?”

“Twelve weeks.”

Sitting down on the toilet is a whole world of pain I haven’t known in years — since the last time I was weight training, only back then I wasn’t on the wrong side of 40.

I’ve been shuffling around my co-working space, all morning. It hurts to lift a glass of water to my face.

And don’t get me started on stairs!

Yesterday was leg day.

But I’m actually just assuming this is me now.

I’m a fireball of sore and I will stay that way for the duration.

I remember when one of my sons was a toddler, he got his first cold after learning to talk and he started crying, “Is this just me now?” Tears and snot dripped down his little, flushed face.

He was too young to understand the cold would run its course and he would once again feel better.

That’s me. I’m him.

I have more lactic acid in me right now than Bruce Banner has gamma rays.

This is my new life.

Leg day. Followed by arm day — also known as I-can’t-lift-my-arms-to-comb-my-hair-afterwards day.

On day three, I get to RUN! Or in my case, shuffle very quickly.

I’ve considered various alternative health treatments to soothe my sore muscles.

But it’s called Body Talk. Not Body Scream. Which is what I fear my body would do if I took it to a darkened room with a sympathetic ear.

Would cupping help…