No pain, no gain.
What neanderthalic masochistic cretin thought that up? And why am I so bloody determined to prove him right?!?
Okay, so I'm in a bit of pain that may or may not be my own fault and I may or may not be the most gracious about handling said discomfort. In my defense, I've almost won the latest battle in this summer's war against weeds. I decided that since I was going to spend an extended period of time inadvertantly doing crunches and working my obliques while sweating in the 90° weather that FINALLY got here, I might as well go ahead and work my quads too. So each time I bent down to get a good grip on a weed attached to an economy sized root system, I alternated between squats and lunges. How was I supposed to know the diabolical plants had seen me coming and wrapped themselves around the foundations of my house?!?!
Now I feel like I'm dragging battleship anchors around. Lots of pain. Lots and lots of pain.
So what did I gain?
An intense desire to ambush and devour an entire pantry of dark chocolate.