Ab-sence of malice

For Christmas, Wife gave me a 10-punch pass to a "boot camp" class at the Jewish Community Center (yes, we belong to a JCC; there are no YMCAs in Salt Lake City, and I do appreciate the mild ridiculousness of being Catholic in the most Mormon place on the planet and belonging to a Jewish Community Center). I did a some boot camp-style classes a couple years ago and liked them, and Wife thought I might like to do them again. It's not real, R. Lee Ermey boot camp, but just a mildly intense workout. I've been going for a few weeks, and though it's been rough, and though I've felt like an uncoordinated spaz at times (some exercises -- pull-ups for example -- I've just never been able to do), I keep going back and feel worked out after each class.

However, the last class I took really beat me up.

Thursday, as part of the workout, I did 60 situps. Mind you, I probably haven't done that many situps in a 10-minute time period since high school, when I was in better shape. Being out of shape in the present and having not gone to boot camp in a couple weeks might have contributed to the pain I felt afterward. And by afterward, I mean two days afterward. I felt fine Friday, my upper arms and shoulders were sore Saturday from other parts of the workout, and the pain hit my upper abs on Saturday.

The pain hit bad. This was beyond comfortable soreness. Lifting my arms over my head was painful. Sneezing was painful. Sleeping on my side was painful. Rolling onto my back after deciding sleeping on my side was too painful was painful. Getting out of bed to get more ibuprofen was painful. Sitting up was painful.

The pain has subsided a little, but even as I type this, I stretched and felt a twinge of pain. This last workout kicked my butt good, which I need, but hopefully, my abs can withstand the shock the next time. In the meantime, I'm hoping my bruised ab muscles are healed enough so I can sleep easier tonight.

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