To throw up, or not to throw up?
That, good sirs was the question I had to ask myself at the end of todays PT session.
A combination of work, a cold and the easter break has seen me not get to the gym as often as I should have in the past 2 weeks or so. Add to that the evil mind of Ebony the Personal Trainer, just slightly ratcheting up my effort level each week, somehow sensing which exercises will hurt me the most, usually something with a lunge involved. This resulted in me hurting today. A lot. However I was coping until the last bit, the cool down. Usually this is 500m on the rowing machine, that is until today. Now I don’t recall hearing anything from Ebony about doing 1000m so I pushed through the 500 fairly hard, thinking the sooner this is done the better. This saw me well under 2 minutes for the 500, faster that I’d normally do it. I stopped at 500m, in my mind the work out was over, only to get “C’mon we’re going to 1000m!” WHAT??? the next 500 hurt, I made it under 4 minutes.
And that was how I came to considering throwing up today.
For the record I didn’t, and the Vietnamese pork meatball roll I just had for lunch was awesome.
I’m getting fitter, my back feels good, but it seems I’m not immune from getting my arse kicked.