Futile was my search for poetry online about sore muscles and/or feeling the burn, and then I remembered this picture from my flickr stream.
When we saw this cactus on the edge of a cliff on Maui last year, I was compelled to pretend to sit on it. About 15 years ago my best friend composed the following masterpiece of a poem for an English assignment:
I sit upon a cactus.
Ow.
My butt hurts.
And it did hurt when the wind blew and for a millisecond or seven I wasn’t actually pretending to sit on the cactus.
Despite the many squats and duck walks and push up tests (I “only” did 30) and horizontal arm rotations what went on for frickin ever and tripods (one-armed plank) that were part of Wild Card Wednesday, it is not my butt that hurts, nor my arms or upper back. No, it is my calves. I have no idea why.
Tomorrow it will surely be my abs that protest, for tomorrow is Stability Ball Thursday.
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Happy ThanksGiving Day!
Comment by Jennifer 23 November 2006 (Thursday) @ 1:44 amWhen I was ten I saw a little catus on the side of the road and thought to dig it up and bring it home to my mom, she’d love it. Of course I was very careful when I placed it in my shirt pocket. My mom spent the night pulling needles out of my new boobs!
Ow! What a great present for your mom.
Comment by Christina 23 November 2006 (Thursday) @ 11:04 pm