This morning was rough. I felt the pain from the day before and it made me think twice about working out. Laying in bed wouldn’t help out in the long run. I’d be better off just sucking it up and going in and doing my 45-minute workout.

It was a slow walk. Almost void of motivation. The only motivator was the fact that I made it out the house and it would be a discouragement later in the day, knowing I didn’t even go through with what I set off to do. Another cold May morning. I was getting tired of these types of mornings.

Empty gym, which means that I could do whatever I wanted to do. Yell, grunt, groan or cry, I didn’t have to worry about anyone looking at me crazy. I figured I do my workout in reverse today; weights first then cardio.

I focused more on my legs today. Yesterday was mostly arms and upper body. I decided to keep it simple, squats and lunges. Four sets of twelve, just to get the blood flowing. It hurt. Every bend, stretch, rep, set, all of it hurt. Every set, I was closer to the end.

Next was the elliptical. The first day it kicked my butt pretty good. That’s what happens when you choose to forget to work out. Thirty minutes and I’d be done. Finished! Finito! Fin! I pushed through, fighting through the aches and slight pain that shot through my back. Every second I pushed harder. The harder I work, the better I will feel.

Ten minutes in. My shirt drenched like I jumped in the pool. Just think how my shirt will be after twenty minutes. “I have to push through” I said to myself over and over. “I’ll be happy with the outcome,” I had to reassure myself.

You never really feel satisfied until it’s all over. The process is sweaty, stinky and painful. In order to see gains…or a loss in my case, this was all part of HAS to be done.

Twenty minutes in. Ten more minutes to go. My shirt stuck to my body, drenched with sweat. It was uncomfortable. The gym was humid which made me perspire even more. Twenty-five minutes in. I could see the finish line. I just wondered if my body had the same vision I had. Every movement had me aching. I’d take the pain if it meant no “charlie horse”. I worked out weeks ago, just like I did today. As soon as I hit the stairs in my house I was laid out like Lebron in the 2014 Finals. Sprawled on the landing ,helpless, sporting the ugliest Jordan crying face. Pain shot through my legs. “Lord, take ’em – take my legs!”  It was painful. All I could do is grit and bear it. Definitely didn’t want a repeat of that.

Finally it was all over! I’d cool down and day 2 was over. I took a bit of a push early on but the feeling after was refreshingly sweaty and a bit stinky. I can’t wait until these workouts are piece of cake. I little less huffing and puffing, but until then lets focus on day 3.