Feeling dead, not lifted.

I have spent this whole morning laying around either napping or playing on the computer. Regardless of which however, I have not left the couch. To anyone who knows me, that seems pretty uncharacteristic. I am the type of gal who usually hops out of bed and starts doing something immediately. (Especially these days. Gotta beat the heat!)

Today, I am not that gal. Today, I am the gal who can barely walk. 

Why?

Because I got overly excited about my new gym membership. 

On Wednesday I went to the local YMCA and signed up for a membership. This is exciting news seeing as how I have never belonged to a facility that has so much to offer! My brother-in-law works there, my sister works out there, a friend works and teaches classes there. What more could I ask for?

So after signing the paperwork I immediately parted ways with my mother, whom I joined with and headed straight for the weights. Generally I have some sort of workout plan, but that day I didn't. I decided to go with a tried and true, highly functional exercise, the dead lift.

Dead lifts aren't difficult for me. Stopping is difficult for me. Not over-doing it is difficult for me. Now, walking is difficult for me.

I did over 150 dead lifts Wednesday, which to some may sound like I am tooting my own horn. I'm not. It's actually quite embarrassing. You see, I have been a fitness enthusiast since I was 14 years old. So much in fact that last year I got my personal training certification. I understand that just because someone is certified doesn't mean they know all about it. But, I am the type to know all about it. Which means when I bent over and picked up that bar for the 100th time, I knew better. 

And now I'm semi-crippled from it.