As I said to the PT who fixes me when I do stupid things like cartwheels, “I started going to the gym this week!”
“Yay!” she said.
“I hurt myself right away!”
“Oh,” she said. :)
It wasn’t really an injury, per se. It’s just that my damn hip flexors are incredibly tight, and using the rowing machine made the left one go “what the actual fitzsimmons?” I worked it out with assiduous stretching over the next day, but also, y’know, in a fit of Not Being Stupid, didn’t row again last week.
I did some feeble yoga, and a little dance barre stuff in the studio, and in an effort to not cripple myself with lactic acid, tried to be real careful about how much I lifted. Apparently it worked, because really the only thing that was sore at all was my pecs. I may have to be a little more vigorous this week. Or not. Right now just getting there is more than half the battle.
The woman working the front desk this morning, who has only seen me once, last week, in the studio, said to me, “The studio is open for the next hour,” when I came in. I was kind of impressed, honestly, and then I went and did barre and floor exercises for most of the hour I had available. Next Monday I’ll bring my ballet shoes.
S’all I got right now. *vrooms*