Sally Up

If you're sick of hearing tales of working out, go ahead and skip this post. I won't be offended.

I just have to document my experience with Miss Sally.

I hate her. I really do.

There is a song called Flower by Moby. It's all about bringing some chick named Sally up and down (I have no idea what this means and I hope it's not dirty). This does not bode well for our workouts. Listen to the song, it will make more sense.

Here's a YouTube video showing people in a gym doing what our devil trainer makes us do.

Granted, we are not at the level of holding lots of weight - not yet anyway. The first time we did it, we didn't have any weight and it was absolute murder. Like "I'm about to throw up" hard. The 2nd time, Mike handed me a bar that weighs about 15 lbs. It was so tough, but I made it. Barely.

Well, yesterday, Mike made me hold a 45 lb bar. He's so mean! And, we had to do the stupid Sally song twice. My muscles were so blasted that I couldn't even lift the bar above my head to put it down after the second time. Mike had to come help me. I literally fell to the (gross, disgusting gym) floor when the song ended and felt like crying. I'm such a baby, but it is so hard! (And now, I literally have a bruise on my Quasimodo hump from the stupid bar).

But, I did it and lived to tell about it! I'm so scared about what Sally will bring next time. I might have to squat with all 185 lbs of Mike on my shoulders.

Do you want to know something really crazy? We did Sally squats of our own free will and choice today at work. We took a 4.5 minute break, stepped into the hallway and basically tortured ourselves. We're pretty hard core.

Or just straight up crazy.