This Saturday I have an interesting workout coming up. I am going to my wife's kickboxing class. I am going to try not to puke, faint, or die. Dying would be the worst case scenario, of course, but puking and/or fainting would suck too. Fainting into my pool of puke wouldn't be too cool either.
I really am looking forward to that workout, but I am already thinking that I might pull a hamstring or snap my quads in half from being stretched and or worked over by one of the regulars at the gym. It should be a good time, and thankfully there will be a couple of other guys there with me. Thankfully, their girlfriends are forcing them to go as well.
We will have our own special ass kicking session. It will suck, just like this rest day. If I wasn't on a rest day right now, I probably wouldn't be thinking about this. Instead, I would be thinking about the snake I saw a few days ago, or about my bloody, pulpy feet.
This rest day sucks. Looking forward to working out tomorrow. Maybe a 5am swim will snap me out of this funk.
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