I yam what I yam...

and sore is what I yam...

I've been exercising pretty regularly for a couple of years now, things like weights, yoga, pilates, walking - you know, all that stuff you're supposed to try to do and which I am finally enjoying, thanks to Sue and Lisa at Tread Powerfully.

Last Wednesday, I did a bootcamp/circuit kind of class, which included things like tossing medicine balls, countless pushups, jumping jacks, and chin-ups. I did well this week, better than ever, in fact.  Unfortunately, I think I've blown out my forearms.

Not sure if it's even possible, but since Wednesday night my arms have gone from dead weight to intensely painful and crampy.  No amount of stretching or massaging or soaking seems to help, and it's cutting into the rest of my life - hard to knit, hard to write, hard to walk the dogs, hard just to hold a hair dryer.

They look normal enough, my arms, which surprises me, because they feel like

So what's the moral of the story?  Don't work your hardest in case you hurt yourself?  Don't exercise beyond your comfort zone?

No, ultimately I think it's try your best, but keep lots of Advil - and wine - around for later.  Not at the same time, of course...