This is like the first 15 minutes of a 48 Hours Mystery, because if you hear about the body of Chris Majors being found in the Black Warrior River, this blog post will be the piece of evidence they will point to that led the police to arresting me, but that's starting at the end of the story, let's go back to the beginning.

See, I used to be a pretty active person, what with playing basketball in college and all.  However, once I hung up the high tops, I really have not been that active at all.  See my previous post about my softball shenanigans. 

However, folks, I have turned over a new leaf.  I have joined a gym, and I plan on actually using the membership this time.  One of the perks of the gym that I go to is that the trainers there will set you up your own personal workout program.  This is where one Mr. Chris Majors enters the story.  He is one of Kent's friends, not bad to look at, and familiar with my background athletically.  I asked him to set my workout up for me. 

When he asked me what I wanted out of the workout, I just told him I wanted to lift four days a week with cardio and abs 6-7 days.  I also told him I just wanted to tone.  I have no desire - none - to return to the days of circuits and sprints till I drop.  Unfortunately, apparently what Chris heard when I said I wanted to tone was that I WANT TO FEEL LIKE EVERY JOINT IN MY BODY IS EXPLODING WITH THE SLIGHTEST OF MOVEMENT.  Today, for instance, I did legs.  When I saw the workout on paper it looked pretty bad, but feasible.  No.  I did squats, dumbbell squats, lunges, leg press, calf raises and some hellish machine called the Butt Blaster.   By the second set of lunges, I knew I was in trouble, but I didn't know what big trouble yet.

As a reward to myself for doing the entire hellish leg workout, I skipped the regular cardio and just wanted to shoot a little bit to get the blood back flowing in my legs.  I made it exactly 4 shots in, when the ball predictably bricked off to my right.  I went to run after the ball and immediately face planted.  My legs said, "Nope, you stupid 29 year-old woman...we are done doing your evil bidding..."

I immediately left the gym and planted myself on my couch.  If I could get some sort of bed pan I wouldn't even get up to pee.  I am so miserable, and I know it's only gonna be 100 times worse tomorrow...So that's why I am going to murder Chris Majors.  I think he deserves it.  No jury in the country will convict me when they hear of the horror he has visted upon me and my rapidly aging body.  I'm off to ice now.