Not His Fault

Ever since I started working out in July 2010, the team at V-Fit has challenged me.

Every day it's harder.

Every day I am stronger.

Gabe, known as "The Silent Assassin", has a knack for getting me to try things I NEVER would have considered on my own.

So when I got home from my workout on Monday, I wasn't surprised that I was a little sore.  Nothing major -- I could just tell that I had worked out.

Tuesday morning, however, I was really sore. 

My back was stiff and painful. 

Nevertheless, I had kids to get to school and a job to get to. 

When I got to work, I had my morning coffee, laughing to my coworkers that Gabe had once again kicked my butt.

The coffee made my stomach a little bubbly.  That happens sometimes.

But my back was really really sore.  Owie and sore and hurty. 

And my arms were stiff too.  Gabe had me do several push ups with one hand on a medicine ball.  Very good for the chest.  I stretched, joked to my friends that I shoulda worn Bengay instead of Chanel No. 5. 

My coffee tummy was worse.  It made me break a rule.  (Technically, I didn't break the rule because no one was in there.  But still.)

I spent my busy day attending meetings and whining to anyone about how hard my workout was.  Because my back hurt.  My arms were sore.  My chest was owie!  My legs were stiff and achy. My hair hurt.

Wait.  Gabe didn't workout my hair.

When I got home, my head was aching.  My stomach still bubbly.  I didn't want dinner. Everything hurt -- including my hair and my fake nails. 

I went to bed.

I stayed there for 18 hours.

Then I felt LOTS better!

No more back pain.  Arms, chest & legs - fine.  Hair - messy, but pain free.  Tummy -- hungry. 

So it wasn't Gabe's fault that I felt so miserable.

I had the flu.

Hmmmm. . . kinda scary that I didn't know the difference, doncha think?