Sweat Shop

You guys. I am so sore that it even hurts to type, and no I’m not kidding. Three of the girls I do BBC with couldn’t make it tonight, so instead of just sleeping in this morning I went to “Muscle Intervals” at 5:35 am, a class my cousin was teaching.

Boy, oh boy. I know I say this a lot (which must mean I was even more out of shape than I ever thought), but I’ve never sweated so much in my life! Actually, that’s the story of my life whenever I go to the gym these days.

Here’s the description of the class:
That may be a teeny tiny explanation, but it’s not kidding when it says whole body, high intensity. I think my cousin should make her own line of workout videos, because she’s the instructor you love to hate. You hate her when she makes the hardest move look easier than brushing your hair in the morning, but then you love her because she smiles and tells you how awesome you’re doing. Then you hate her again because there is NO way you can do that specific move eight. more. times. Then you love her because she’s right there doing it with you. And then! (Oh, and then!) You feel a moment of ecstasy because, wait, what’s that you see? Is she actually sweating, too?! True, she may just have that “glowing” effect with a tiny trickle of sweat falling from her head, but I got so much satisfaction out of it.

With all this working out I’m doing I’m waiting for the day my body finally takes it all into consideration and decides to lose weight. Right now the number on the scale isn’t moving much, but I know I’m doing the best I can.

Jillian Michaels, eat your heart out.

Seriously though, when is this going to stop hurting?

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