Last week I foolishly remarked to Heidi, the Goddess of Heavy Objects, that there was no way I could do 100 pushups. She remembers these things and takes them as a challenge. Which is one reason I love her.
During my workout on Monday, I did pushups. In between sets of 10 (ish—I got one set of 15 and some sets of 5), I did one-legged squats, ball balancing stuff, back extensions, and more. Net result for the hour: 140 pushups. The regular guy kind, no fancy stuff with medicine balls or anything. I felt macho. I felt victorious. I felt tired.
And now I feel sore. My abdominal muscles object to the idea of getting out of bed. They’re not too hip to sneezing, either. My back whines. The less said about my shoulders and upper arms the better. This exercise business is not for the faint of heart and requires a larger amount of Advil than previously thought!