Really Dedicated or Mentally Impaired

Based on how my knees felt after my walk this morning, I'm going with the latter.  It's been several days since I've been swimming (my normal mode of exercise), since my son split his arm open, preventing him, meaning us, from being able to go to the pool.  I felt an emotion that I've experienced a hundred times, usually after I've hurled obscenities at my children or downed an entire pint of Ben & Jerry's Red Velvet Cake ice cream in one sitting, but never...NEVER...in relation to exercise.  The tides are turning children.  Pigs are flying and it's raining toads, because I actually felt guilty that I had not exercised in several days, except for the spectacle I displayed on Saturday evening, which totally counts, based on the bucket of sweat that poured from my body.  Anywho, I guilted myself into walking this morning, despite the fact that my knees have still not totally recovered.  They hurt a bit at first, but then they went numb, which I assumed was a good thing.  20 minutes later, the feeling returned, and the throbbing started, but I was so far into the walk it didn't matter.  I still had to make it home.  So, I hobbled down the street House-style and limped up the stairs.  They're recovering now, though, and unless my kneecap shoots out of my body at some point, I plan to keep doing this, since I think the fundamental issue with dancing was that my knees weren't strong enough to support my weight.

While my knees were burning, it dawned on me that I didn't look like Elaine at all on Saturday.  I can't believe I forgot about this, but this is for sure a much better comparison:

Also, for anyone who cares, this is the BEST workout song ever.  It's probably about getting stoned or smashed or something, but every time it plays on my Ipod, I can't help but kick it up.

Training Day 1: Dramatic Description of Events

Well, I did it.  I stuck by my word and started my training plan, and I almost goddamn died.  I spent 75% of the time convinced that I was going to throw up, pass out, or both.  These are the thoughts that went through my brain:

"Hey, this isn't so bad.  But it is kind of warm outside."
"Boy, that first hill was rough, but good for me for getting out here and moving."
"Geez, this second hill is really tough, and it's really getting hot out here."
"I'm glad I have my Ipod, although R.E.M.'s 'Bad Day' isn't very motivational when you're breathing heavy."
"I think I'm going to jog for a bit, since I'm going downhill anyway."
"Fuck.  That was a mistake. I'm walking from here on out."
"Jesus, I love Mumford and Sons, but 'The Cave' is kind of demotivating, and I'm starting to get suicidal."
"Thank God for Ke$ha, and Victoria's terrible taste in music, because my shit is too heavy to exercise to."
"Holy balls, why did I decide to walk in the middle of lunch hour, and why is there no breeze?"
"Oh my God, this was a mistake.  I think I'm going to die, but I will get to the end of the neighborhod."
"Yay for LMFAO and their stupid music.  I might just make it after all."
"I am too fat and out of shape for this shit."
"Oh my God, why did I walk to the end of the neighborhood?  Now I have to walk all the way back."
"Uh oh.  I am definitely going to vomit.  I can feel it in my throat.  Just keep moving, and keep your head down."
"Is is possible for your heart to actually explode in your chest, because I'm pretty sure that's about to happen."
"Fuck you, LMFAO.  You're not sexy, and you definitely don't work out.  You're skinny nerds with ridiculous hair and clothes. Why am I listening to you?"
"Why did I leave my cell phone at home?  How am I going to call the EMT when my heart explodes?"
"Here comes the vomit train again. I refuse to hop on board."
"I am definitely going to pass out.  Which patch of grass looks the softest?"
"Keep moving, or else these people are going to find you passed out in their yard."
"Oh my God, another fucking hill!  You have got to be kidding me!"
"This was the worst mistake of my life.  I cannot believe how much this feels like torture.  It's worse than that time I smoked that spice shit and thought I was going to die, because I really am going to die this time."
"Oh, thank God I can see my van from here!"
"Maintain.  Maintain.  Maintain.  You're almost there, and you can pass out on your couch."
"Jesus, I made it!  Oh, thank God!  Damn, I have to do this shit all over again on Thursday."

So, there you go.  I literally thought I would die the entire second half of my walk.  And I only walked 2.5 miles for 40 minutes.  But, at least I got off my lazy ass and did something.  So, the game plan for Thursday is to make sure I'm super hydrated, go earlier in the morning, and make sure I've eaten something to give me some fuel, because this was seriously the worst physical experience I can remember in a long time.  It's been an hour and a half since I finished, and my legs still feel like a baby deer's trying to learn to walk, my heart is finally slowing down, and my hearing is beginning to return.  I'm not a doctor, but I'm pretty sure I had a stroke.