my thighs are killing me but ...

i finally got around to doing my entire (well, almost) program in the gym last tuesday. bummed with the thought of waking up at half past five to make it to the office by seven, i stayed in bed until i found the energy courage willpower to go back to the gym after a five day rest for my aching body.

i started with the 25-minute warm-up at the treadmill which became a bore after five minutes of watching a cinemax movie i can't hear and another two minutes of craning my neck to get a better glimpse of the other television whose sound was actually audible. it was really tiring to walk and not go anywhere so after less than ten minutes i hauled my still-jiggly ass to the bikes where i did the entire fifteen minutes required of me (yay!yay!) and burned -- don't be shocked -- a grand total of 35 calories.

yes, you read that right, 35 calories. i get more calories eating a piece of mentos.

i went through all of the machines, none of the free weights, indicated in the program. i huffed and puffed and sweated like a pig. i stretched and pulled and twisted like there was no tomorrow.

i woke up wednesday in pain. if you came across a girl driving whose car kept stopping, that might've been me. see, my thighs hurt so much i couldn't even properly step on the gas and the clutch pedals.

i was ready to swear off the gym and forget that i ever thought of giving a damn to two-piece bikinis, until i noticed that hey, my pantleg was somewhat kind of loose.

and my thighs weren't exactly rubbing against each other.

wow.

take me back to the gym, let me suffer all that pain again. sexy thighs are worth all the pain in the world, if you ask me.

now, if only i could get myself to do my crunches.