Paris and sore legs do not go well together. Walking. Lots of walking. I didn’t realize that after my Body Pump class at the gym, I would be this sore. I am sore. I woke up at 8am this morning thinking, "Ouch. I am sore."
So, my Body Pump class. In case you don’t know what that is, it is basically a class full of squats, lunges, things with a bar bell and weights on it working every muscle in my arms, legs, butt, stomach, and any other body part that has a muscle. Half way through the class, my legs started to shake and feel like jello. Toward the end of the bicep curls I thought I couldn’t go on, but I did! None of the little French women were going to outdo me! Especially since I was bigger than most of the girls in there AND had less weight on my barbell than they did! I am not proud to be bigger, it is just that French women are teeny! And now I believe them to be strong as well. OK, I will admit it. At one point during the lunges, I sort of took a little break. I missed like one lunge before my instructor yelled to me, "Continuez!" Yikes! I did continue out of fear of humiliation again!
Justin and I walked home from the Canadian bar tonight (a whole day after the workout). Ouch. I stumbled my way home. It was about a 30 minute walk. I am going to have to think ahead next time I decide to take a Body Pump class. I will have to ask myself if I am going to be walking that day. Of course I will. I live in Paris! Bring on the Body Pump!