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OW, OW ,OW…ow, ow, ow, ow….

Yes, these are the cries of pain.  These are my muscles screaming out in agony…”why are you doing this to us? We want to go back to the way it used to be?”  Believe it or not, I have not worked out in almost two months since this nasty little chest infection took my lungs hostage.  It’s been a long trip, filled with steroids, inhalers, antibiotics, and other assorted medications, but alas, I have been released from my arrested breathing and have begun to cautiously join the world of the living again.  Of course, nothing is as easy as it seems, because now my itchy, sneezy, wheezy, coughing, allergy afflicted six-year old suffers the same fate as his mama and is on the same course of drugs.  Let’s just say that steroids on a six-year old can turn a seemingly sweet, even-tempered child into the incredible hulk on speed.

I specifically switched his dosage time from morning to late afternoon, because I really like his teacher and didn’t want her to have to bear the full brunt of his manic, off- the-wall behavior.  Yep, I took a hit for the teacher.

Back to my muscles, they hurt.  Walking up and down the stairs is brutal and yet I am going back for more punishment today because my screaming muscles have atrophied. They have become lazy, mushy, and very unattractive.  Did I mention that I modified my workout…that’s right, I took it easy so the instructor wouldn’t have to pick me up off the floor and force Albuterol down the throat.   Instead of squatting with a 40 lb. punching bag, I used baby weights and in lieu of a 10lb ball for ab work, I used a 4lb. ball and still my muscles hurt so badly, it’s beyond the sweet pain of a job well done.  Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow and ….OW! 

Yes, I am in pain, but eventually it will pass with every subsequent workout and slowly, I will return to my advanced level once again.  Until then, I suppose a little patience is in order.  I’m really bad at patience, but my muscles are a constant reminder that patience is definitely a virtue.  OW!

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