Today was my first "date" with Mr. Ass Kicker down at the gym since the dreaded toe surgery. I kept forgetting about it during the day, and then remembering, and then forgetting and then it was time to go home, but wait, not for me, I needed to go to the gym. I went down and presented myself to Ass Kicker. I told him to make me do cardio. I wasn't going to like it, but it needed to be done.
The thing about people like Ass Kicker is that they think exercise is fun. It's not. I guess if you are skinny, it might be some sort of hoot to dress in your cute spandex stuff and put your body through it's paces, but if you are packing some extra weight, it isn't fun. If you are reading this and you are a fat person and you enjoy exercise, good for you. You keep telling yourself that. I, on the other hand, am going to bitch about it.
We did the recumbant bike, worked with a kettle ball, worked with some other basket ball looking thing, worked with some strappy things attached to the wall, worked with one of those big exercise balls and some tension bands. I survived all that. All the while Ass Kicker keeps asking, "how does that feel? Feel good?" No, Ass Kicker, this does not feel good. You know what feels good? Cold ice cream against my tongue as I lick it off the cone. A nuzzle from my favorite pony, a massage, sex, you know, THOSE things feel good. Sucking in my gut, aka "core" while I do a plank thing on the big exercise ball while my arms shake, my legs quiver and I feel like I am going to throw up, that's not fun. No, Ass Kicker, that doesn't feel good.
Now, it's time to cool down. Down on the floor I go for stretching. "Here, lie on your back, keep both shoulders on the floor with your arms out, now cross your left leg over your right leg, now take this rope and put it under your foot and now pull on that rope with your right hand and keep your left shoulder on the floor, now, how does that feel?" It hurts! It hurts! It hurts! This does not feel good! Now, switch legs. I'm rolling around on the floor like a fat drunk girl that may have crapped herself and everyone is laughing at and that can't get a rope under the bottom of her shoe. It was sad, but I did it. "YEAH! Feel that stretch, good, huh?" No, Ass Kicker, it does not feel good. Then we get this heavy duty roller thing and put it under my calf and then I am supposed to push my self up with my shoulders and the free leg and roll the rolly thing back and forth under my other calf. Ass Kicker said, "you don't like that one, do you?" I shot him a glance and said, "no, it's not my favorite, can't say as I like it at all."
To finish it all off, we put the rolling thing under my butt. Ass Kicker says it works all the knots out of my butt and loosens up the muscles. This is the only time in my life anyone has ever told me I have a tight ass. I get up on this rolly thing and it's like I'm at the rodeo. Scared, I struggle for balance, "Ass Kicker, I'm fixing to get bucked off the roller!" He seemed unconcerned. Seriously, this rolly thing is only like six inches in diameter and I'm trying to get in position on it and it's trying to roll out from under me and my right leg is folded under the left leg and I can't get it out because I am so close to the ground and the rolly thing is like a greased pig at the county fair. I almost threw my hand up in the air and tried to ride it for eight seconds, but thought I would try and compose myself. I finally got in position on it and quite frankly, I wish I had been bucked off. It hurt so bad! "Feels good, huh? Were breaking up the fascia and working the knots out. It's like a deep tissue massage." Have I mentioned I hate deep tissue massage? It HURT. I rode it out and finished. Cowgirled up. Workout complete.
Immediately following the workout, I had a 30 minute drive home. During this time, my muscles had time to think about what had transpired over the last hour or so, and they were pissed. I got out of my truck and oh yeah, they were mad. I walked to the bottom of the steps into the house and my butt muscles screamed at me, "crawl it, bitch, WE ARE DONE!" I sat there, contemplating a plan of action. I mustered up all my big girl courage and put one foot up. You know how it feels when you hit your funny bone and it hurts really bad, but also it makes you laugh and cry at the same time? It was like that. I'm going to take some meds and ice my knees and then pray to the gym gods that my legs don't call bullshit on the trip up the stairs to the bedroom tonight.
For the record, no, Ass Kicker, that didn't feel good today.
The thing about people like Ass Kicker is that they think exercise is fun. It's not. I guess if you are skinny, it might be some sort of hoot to dress in your cute spandex stuff and put your body through it's paces, but if you are packing some extra weight, it isn't fun. If you are reading this and you are a fat person and you enjoy exercise, good for you. You keep telling yourself that. I, on the other hand, am going to bitch about it.
We did the recumbant bike, worked with a kettle ball, worked with some other basket ball looking thing, worked with some strappy things attached to the wall, worked with one of those big exercise balls and some tension bands. I survived all that. All the while Ass Kicker keeps asking, "how does that feel? Feel good?" No, Ass Kicker, this does not feel good. You know what feels good? Cold ice cream against my tongue as I lick it off the cone. A nuzzle from my favorite pony, a massage, sex, you know, THOSE things feel good. Sucking in my gut, aka "core" while I do a plank thing on the big exercise ball while my arms shake, my legs quiver and I feel like I am going to throw up, that's not fun. No, Ass Kicker, that doesn't feel good.
Now, it's time to cool down. Down on the floor I go for stretching. "Here, lie on your back, keep both shoulders on the floor with your arms out, now cross your left leg over your right leg, now take this rope and put it under your foot and now pull on that rope with your right hand and keep your left shoulder on the floor, now, how does that feel?" It hurts! It hurts! It hurts! This does not feel good! Now, switch legs. I'm rolling around on the floor like a fat drunk girl that may have crapped herself and everyone is laughing at and that can't get a rope under the bottom of her shoe. It was sad, but I did it. "YEAH! Feel that stretch, good, huh?" No, Ass Kicker, it does not feel good. Then we get this heavy duty roller thing and put it under my calf and then I am supposed to push my self up with my shoulders and the free leg and roll the rolly thing back and forth under my other calf. Ass Kicker said, "you don't like that one, do you?" I shot him a glance and said, "no, it's not my favorite, can't say as I like it at all."
To finish it all off, we put the rolling thing under my butt. Ass Kicker says it works all the knots out of my butt and loosens up the muscles. This is the only time in my life anyone has ever told me I have a tight ass. I get up on this rolly thing and it's like I'm at the rodeo. Scared, I struggle for balance, "Ass Kicker, I'm fixing to get bucked off the roller!" He seemed unconcerned. Seriously, this rolly thing is only like six inches in diameter and I'm trying to get in position on it and it's trying to roll out from under me and my right leg is folded under the left leg and I can't get it out because I am so close to the ground and the rolly thing is like a greased pig at the county fair. I almost threw my hand up in the air and tried to ride it for eight seconds, but thought I would try and compose myself. I finally got in position on it and quite frankly, I wish I had been bucked off. It hurt so bad! "Feels good, huh? Were breaking up the fascia and working the knots out. It's like a deep tissue massage." Have I mentioned I hate deep tissue massage? It HURT. I rode it out and finished. Cowgirled up. Workout complete.
Immediately following the workout, I had a 30 minute drive home. During this time, my muscles had time to think about what had transpired over the last hour or so, and they were pissed. I got out of my truck and oh yeah, they were mad. I walked to the bottom of the steps into the house and my butt muscles screamed at me, "crawl it, bitch, WE ARE DONE!" I sat there, contemplating a plan of action. I mustered up all my big girl courage and put one foot up. You know how it feels when you hit your funny bone and it hurts really bad, but also it makes you laugh and cry at the same time? It was like that. I'm going to take some meds and ice my knees and then pray to the gym gods that my legs don't call bullshit on the trip up the stairs to the bedroom tonight.
For the record, no, Ass Kicker, that didn't feel good today.
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