But, It’s the Good Pain

I started working out again last night after a several month hiatus. Nothing too aggressive. I did some light weight-lifting and push-ups to get the blood pumping. Later on, as I drifted off to sleep, I marveled at my muscle memory and my body’s ability to seemingly effortlessly rebound from my workout time-out.

Then, I woke up this morning. At first, I thought my arms must have been harpooned to the headboard of my bed since it felt as though muscle was tearing from bone as I moved my arms. Almost immediately thereafter, I remembered I had worked out the night before. Apparently, my body had gone numb last night in an attempt to trick me into thinking I had escaped the pain one feel’s after jumping back on the workout wagon.

Several uncomfortable hours later when I was at work, my co-worker, who was no doubt tired of my grumbling, reminded me that my pain was the “good pain.” I would have opened a can of whoop ass on her but I physically couldn’t open the can.

At this rate, my cheat day is going to have to be much sooner than originally anticipated.