I went to the gym last night because my conscience called me a lazy fat cow. I was proud of myself for not only going to the gym, but also taking a gruelling high intensity hour long class where I was out of breath and sweaty about 2 minutes into it. We were doing plyometrics, squats, lunges, paired with dumbbells, barbells, step, and bands (right? What a friggin class!).
So, ten minutes until class is over, I am getting up off the floor (from doing an unbearable amount of push-ups) and I heard a ‘pop’ followed by a shot of pain which resulted in me falling to the floor.
Ow ow ow OW! F! F! F!!!!
So, I tried to nurse my knee back to health, but it wasn’t working, I limped my way out of class in pain (and no one helped me, but everyone helped bleedy bob from last class, sigh) and managed to hobble down the stairs without falling ass over kettle. I finally get home to ice my throbbing knee, and sadly realize I left my favourite pink Nalgene bottle there
This is what I get for listening to my damn conscience, a bum knee and a lost fav water bottle.