So often in life the things that we love the most end up hurting us. Well, not really, but they often end up being not so pleasant. For example, pizza. I love pizza, but it doesn't love me. It hurts after I eat pizza, so I gave up on it a while back and I can love it once again - from afar.
I found something else that I have a love/hate relationship with - my trainer. I love that there's someone who knows lots more about exercise than me whom I can pay to make my body do what it needs to do to get into shape. I hate the way I feel the first time back with the trainer after two and a half months of no exercise.
It's like that first day of high school volleyball. We all walked in like we were hot s*&t, and the coaches beat us up one side and down the other. They made us run and jump and roll until we couldn't feel the cramps in our sore muscles let alone our muscles themselves. We hurt so much that first week of practice, but we were stronger and faster and could perform better because of it.
Back to this week. I've been exercising for a grand total of two weeks since my surgery - with the doctor's approval, of course. I was making my way back slowly to the gym, but I was there, and had been about five times since my surgery. Not bad I thought, so it's time to bring in the big guns - the personal trainer. Well, not nearly good enough. I know that the whole point of working out is to work the muscles (including your heart) that aren't quite up to snuff to get them heading in the right direction once again. But man oh man, my muscles haven't even entered the playing field let alone started warming up! Thus the hate part of the relationship with the trainer. He's great and all, but I still hurt three days later. At least today I can raise my hands over my head. I count that as a victory, but will head back to the gym tomorrow for another round. I figured that after two weeks back that since the rest of my muscles didn't hurt when I did my old workouts, that I was in decent shape. (The abs are completely shot and are starting over from square one.) So, I proceeded to share this with the trainer and he ran with it. *Note to self - never tell the trainer that you've made progress, or think that you've made progress. He believes you and makes it harder...
So anyway, I'm once again able to move - like I said the arms are better today, as it the butt. So, it's back tomorrow to the gym. Do you think that climbing in and out of the hot tub counts as an exercise?