Actually, I can move. I'm just moving very slowly. With pain. Lots of pain.
Yesterday my friend Amy and I tried a new class at the gym. It's called STRONG, and now I know why it was written in all caps on the class rosters.
Basically, it was a series of weight training exercises. I've never used a dumbbell in my life, but I figured out how to add the weights and lock the cap thingie on the end.
I was doing OK with the shoulder squats and reverse flies. But somewhere around the second set of skull crushers (don't ask), my triceps gave out. I barely made it through the lumberjack chopping movement. And then the sadistic instructor put us through 5 minutes of ab work.
The hour went by quickly, and after class Amy and I were smiling and said it was the best class we'd taken so far. Then Amy called me late last night and asked, "How much are you hurting right now?" Not as much as I'm hurting right now, I tell you.
Strangely enough, we've agreed to go back to the class next week, too. I'll just load up on Advil first.