07854 035 406

Seriously—MY POOR LEGS.

Diary of a CK Elite Client

Last week, Chris had introduced me to the absolutely exhausting “Donny” workout: a kind of circuit training that had mixed weights (deadlifts) with cardio (burpees—oh, so many burpees).

This week, we were doing something similar. And by similar, I mean that it too mixed weights and cardio. And it too was absolutely when-will-this-madness-end exhausting.

via GIPHY

After a quick warm up and some stretches, we started the session with some squats. I was out of practice with these: I hadn’t quite worked up the courage to use the squat rack at the gym on my own, largely because it was normally surrounded by people who (a) looked like they knew what they were doing, and (b) looked like they ate people like me for breakfast. But with Chris giving me the usual much-needed pointers, I was back on form. A few sets of straightforward squats was just the beginning though.

Chris set a timer to count down 10 minutes. In that time, I was to knock out as many sets of 10 weighted squats, followed by 10 squat jumps, as possible. Just like last week’s work out it sounded easy on paper—but with the clock ticking, after the first few sets my legs were burning. I don’t think I managed a full set of 10 without stopping in between. I also don’t think I managed to do a full set of squat jumps without almost falling over (or, for that matter, stumbling forward and totally subconsciously jumping towards the door).

With the 10 minutes up, I’d managed five full lets of squats and jumps, and was into the sixth when the timer ran out. It was hard—exhaustingly hard—and good, energising fun. But oh my word, my legs. MY LEGS. MY POOR, POOR LEGS.

via GIPHY

“You might feel a bit sore in your legs this evening and tomorrow,” Chris said as we wound up the session. “And be careful driving home.” He was right: this was the first time that driving home was suddenly transformed into a chore. Because almost the entire session had been working on strengthening my legs, even just putting the clutch down in the car was hard. My thighs were shaking just with the effort of applying the foot brake. When I got home, walking up the stairs felt like walking out of a swimming pool. Walking to the supermarket round the corner a full two hours later, my legs almost gave way twice. And that kept on happening for the next two days.

 

Seriously—MY POOR LEGS.

 

Facebook Comments