Exorcism is good for you

So my new thing is the gym.  I really, really wish my new thing was an icecream addiction or a sailing-around-the-Carribean addiction, but, no, my new thing is the gym doing exorcism.  Exorcism, exercise, same same.  Oh look, I'm talking about exercise again, blah, blah, blah. 

Well, look, you need to learn how to deal, because if I have to go through the process of busting my coconuts with this exorcism thing, anyone reading my blog has to go through the pain of reading about it.  Go read someone else's blog if it's not up to your standards of fascinating subject matter, but let me tell you, you'll never find a blog as entertaining, stimulating, interesting, informative, trivial and useless as mine.  And that's a fact.

So, now that we've dealt with your blog content critic crankypants attack, let's circle back to topic.  Since I learnt that apparently my abs won't "become rock hard in only minutes a day in this exclusive television offer", I thought I should find another way to achieve this lofty goal. 

Thus, I began this crazy arse exorcism thing in October last year, when I was too stupid and naive to realise that getting fitter and stronger would hurt for the majority of the time.  My muscles, legs in particular, have been sore for about six weeks, and I couldn't work out what I was doing wrong.  It didn't help that a few people told me that they don't even stretch after weight training.  The horror.

But lately I seemed to have had a breakthrough, and nothing seems to be hurting after anything I do at the gym.  Except for yesterday, when all of my legs hurt at the same time.  So my new thing is to stretch and stretch and stretch all throughout my workout, which, I do believe, was what I was told to do in the first place.  Me and instructions. Meh.  Stretching lots is not really my cup of tea and is a bit of a pain in the arse really, but it is worth it for the end result, which is being able to walk the next day without resembling Gollum from Lord of the Rings.

So now that my focus is off my muscle pain, I do believe that this gym thing is probably sort of maybe good for me.  I love how you can angrily pound the mean streets of the gym on a cross trainer and then get called 'fit' by lazy people in your workplace who tell you they spent their evening on the sofa, somehow making it sound like you're the one making the mistake.