I jumped back into training, especially in the weight room, with vengeance on wednesday afternoon. I was angry. Livid. I don’t know if I’ve ever been quite so irate! I ran with aggression. Really wild aggression… and then I came and saw the strength crew and punished myself. I wanted to be sore. I wanted to feel my muscles work.
We did just that. I was fatigued. My anger had subsided.
Its now friday. And I still can’t lift my arms normally. But you know what? I’m pretty darn happy. Happy that every thing hurts, because atleast I know I’m doing something.