I'm currently getting back in to the routine of incorporating some physical exercise into my day, other than walking 500m from my house to Banana Joe's grocery, after having a bit of a spell on the bench. I didn't do a Geoff Huegill or anything, but I was feeling decidedly meh so I thought it about time to rediscover some cardio-based virtuousness.
So, early on Saturday morning, I was schlepping around Waverley Oval at the group training I used to do when I lived east-side (before I was keeping it real and gritty - literally - in the inner west). After multiple trips running up and down a flight of stairs (numbering 75 odd), I had these:
quobbles. uncontrollable wobbling of the quadriceps muscles; typically experienced when trying to drive a car after a period of intense exercising and your leg shakes when depressing the clutch.*
*Acknowledgements owed to my sister in coming up with this word. It is a bloody good one.
Quobbles are usually followed about 2 days later by the inability to rise easily and gracefully out of one's chair at work (I haven't figured out a new word for that yet, I'm sure one's out there). Luckily my desk is a temple to the gods of date loaf and apples right now, and if I had a thermos I'd be almost totally self-sufficient today.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
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