Pain. That's the only word I can really use to describe how I felt coming home after a session at the training center. I thought I knew what physical pain was before this session, but I was clearly wrong...
I had made the mistake of telling the instructor my name at the beginning of class. This was my first session of "KM Conditioning" and I told her so. She smiled. The others in the room laughed. I thought, "Big deal. I can do push-ups. I know how to do a sit-up or two." Later, while walking..no nearly crawling home in complete agony while tears rolled down my face, did I realize why she smiled. Why they laughed. She would stand next to me, yell my name, and made me do things I didn't know that my body was capable of doing. Apparently I had been doing squats wrong all these years and she kept making me do them until I got 15 in a row right. I think I ended up doing 200 wrong ones, and 14 right ones. Not to mention the push-ups, the frog leaps down the hall, the sit-ups...oh my God the sit-ups. The next day, I dreaded going to the bathroom. I would wait for the handicap stall so that I would have something to help me down, and even then the pain was nearly unbearable. The pain. It was like my muscles longed to tear away from my bone and pile on the floor so they would never have to move again...but my bones were evil, and made them hang on with the very last thread of fiber they had.
Lesson Learned: I can do it. It may take a little sweat, a little pain, and a little nausea to get me through rough times, but I can do it. I'm still here, a little less sore, and ready to go out there again, and give it my best shot.
That Friday night, a few days after the torture, was our second anniversary. Not marriage mind you, but dating anniversary. He wanted to do something sweet, so he saved up some money and made a dinner reservation weeks in advance at one of the most sought after restaurants in the city. I was so excited. When we arrived, they had special menu's printed for us with "Happy Anniversary Amy & Ryan" printed on the cover. We decided to go with the tasting menu as we sipped on our glasses of dry Italian sparkling wine. The first course would have been fabulous if it wasn't meant for a mouse. I mean, I understand a "taste" is supposed to be a "taste," but this was ridiculous. The soup was literally in a shot glass...The next few courses were the same. Tiny. I understood why they brought plenty of bread to the table...I figured the main course must be grand and they want you to save your appetite for the best part. .. uh. This was the worst part. The meat was so salty, I had to spit it back out. The "pumpkin puree" was merely a spoonful of baby food and the other thing was some sort of rubber. They even put the head of the bird on the plate to stare at me. I felt like he was laughing at me the entire time! I put a roll on the head, and pushed my plate aside. We left hungry, dissapointed, and sickened at the money we spent on a terrible, terrible dinner.
Lesson Learned: You don't always get what you pay for. Sometimes, it really is the simple things that brings life's deepest pleasures. (Does that make sense?) And never, EVER, pay that much for one dinner ever again.
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
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