“Beauty knows no pain, so what you cryin’ about, girl?”
Quick update: exercise hurts. Running, which I’m used to, isn’t bad at all, but strength training should be somewhere in Dante’s hell. As a punishment for sloth, perhaps? I’m sure I’ll turn out toned and fabulous, but in the meantime ouch!
Yesterday morning after lifting weights, I was putting my makeup on and was more than a little embarrassed to discover my hand was shaking. My eyeliner was a bit dodgy and ragged around the edges, I looked like a raccoon vibrating from a caffeine high. Today just lifting my arm high enough to apply mascara was a chore.
I need a goal to keep me going at 6am on Friday morning instead of whimpering, “Stop the treadmill I want to get off!” Suggestions? My fallback bribe of choice, chocolate, seems counterproductive for some reason. And legally morphine is out.