What feels like noodles? Burns like asphalt on a 95 degree July afternoon? And is tight enough to bounce quarters off of?
Just about every muscle in my body. Ugh.
I have no idea why this working out thing appeals to me. It wouldn't take much to encourage me to sit on the sofa and down chips and ice cream. Reruns seem so much more appealing when considering the alternative: the attempt to run just a little further or work a little harder or sweat a little more.
Tonight I ran three full laps around the track. And in between there were some wicked ugly things like sit-ups, frog squats and push-ups.
But in the midst of the grunts and groans is a growing sense of accomplishment and a confidence. And I'm not wanting to trade those for a couch.
And working out in a small group has begun to breed other areas where we can grow and change and strengthen and push each other. And why not? Life is a one shot deal. Stagnancy and complacency don't appeal to me. I want to live the life I have and it's going to include my faith being tested and stretched, and my body being pushed to do things it screams about, and my emotional issues getting dealt with and healed. I'd rather those things happen with my willing involvement rather than to me.
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