The Good Kind of Pain

I am flabby, weak, and horribly out-of-shape.

This time last year, or even two or three years ago, it was a very different story. I could cite excuses. 2011 was not a good year for me for a variety of reasons.

But it's just excuses.

As I've previously intimated, I've gotten my bike up to snuff and have been forcing myself to ride it to work (a reasonable workout, round-trip).

Last week I started to up the game and returned to martial arts.

This week, I attended class for the longer offerings.

To say I hurt right now doesn't quite adequately express the messages my body is sending me.

I haven't injured myself (yet). Far from it. The last two martial arts classes have been a joy (with masochistic overtones I don't care to contemplate too closely). I suck horribly, but I'm learning stuff (and in several cases, re-learning stuff to break old, bad habits).

In combination with the bicycling... well, that's where the pain comes in.

Stairs are not a lot of fun, and there's a lot of stairs in my life.

And I regret nothing.