More Trumps Sore

I began getting sore on Tuesday night. It's because I raised my squat weight. It was the kind of sore where you don't want to go up and down stairs. Luckily, my mom lives on one level (I'm dog-sitting all this week). That made it a lot easier than going up and down than if I were at my own house. Wednesday it just got worse and worse. The kind where I don't like to sit down at work, and resent every customer that needs me to show them where something is located. I was thinking that I would skip the gym on Wednesday evening. How was I supposed to do more kicking and squatting with that kind of pain? That, and the fact that in order to go Wednesday evening, I would have to spend my lunch break racing home to my mom's house, letting out the dog, and then racing back to work, all on icy streets. But I remembered that I would feel a lot less sore if I made myself get to the gym. So I did. And I do feel better. Today my back is a lot sore-er than my legs (that's just because Marika does such an excellent job of working every upper-body muscle possible). Four hours down! Marika even said that she would be willing to teach classes next Wednesday evening (Christmas Eve) if people promised to come. I said I would! So did five other people. We'll just have to see if they let her. When I told my mom I would be at the gym on Christmas Eve until 7:30, she of course was appalled. But she'll be in Church until 7:30 anyway, so I might as well be with my new family. I see those girls twice a week; that's more than I ever see my real family and most of my friends!