Staying Sore Longer

On Monday, Alan said to me, "Look at the attendance sheet."  Only three new people signed up for the winter session, plus one who wasn't on the list, all men, no women.  Those are the lowest numbers I've ever seen for January.  I didn't get the fourth guy's name, but Frank, Jacob and Steve are the names of the other three.

Leon came in and announced that he signed up.  Sadiq stopped in to say he switched jobs and wanted to try to make it back to the gym.  Erin emailed me via Facebook and said she wanted to know the days the gym was open; she's hoping she can come back in.  I was surprised that Josh didn't come in -- either on time or late.

Michael (with glasses) and I sparred.  A hit to the eye, a hit to the nose, a pop to the chest, then a fall to the canvas really did a number on me.  Today, I was moving slow at work, then found out that neither of the first aid kits -- the one in my office and the one in Pastor Roger's office -- had any aspirin.  I had thrown out an old tube of Ben Gay a month ago, so I had to go up to Walgreens.  Instead of Ben Gay, I brought Mineral Ice.  When I got home, I took a long hot bath.  A cup of green rubbing alcohol was poured into the water to help soak my sore muscles. 

Unfortunately in a couple of weeks when paralegal classes begin again, I'm going to have to miss a day out of the gym for several weeks due to a class.  I've already set aside another day for exercise to make up for missing out at Loyola Park.  I seem to stay sore longer these days, but I can't cut down exercising.  The scale told me I was 183 pounds this morning -- too damn big for someone who is only five foot one.  No sooner than that I manage to get under 180, the weight starts creeping up again.  I never want to be 210 again.  That was when I was at my heaviest.  But I'm slowly realizing that I have to exercise according to what my aging body can do these days.