The GeekHiker

So tonight I go to the gym.  No trainer, just me and the equipment and my own willpower.  And of course, in the past, it’s the willpower that failed me.

I’ve been sore pretty much constantly for the last two weeks, with people at the gym and friends telling me “no, really, it gets better”.  I nod obligingly.

And tonight I’m there, on the various machines, pushing myself.  I mean really pushing myself.

 This is new.  When I’ve been in a gym before, I never really pushed myself, you know?

In fact, I felt bad if I wasn’t pushing enough weight.  Even stranger, there was this little, tiny, very small part of me that was enjoying the effort.  (I would just like to take a moment and acknowledge how tiny that part of me was, and that I’m sure it will be long gone when I wake up tomorrow and cannot move my legs without screaming in utter agony, the sound of which I’m sure will annoy my neighbor, at least until he finds out why and starts laughing uncontrollably.)

Is this how becoming a gym rat starts?  What the deuce is going on here?  Freaky.