Did I ever tell you about my first kayaking experience? I'm sure I did but the 2 seconds I just dedicated to looking through the archives to find that post was just too taxing.
Here's what happened:
I went to Lake Tahoe with a few friends from undergrad. We decided to rent some kayaks and paddle around the lake. It was awesome until I realized that we were half way around the lake and had to get the boats back in 15 minutes or we'd be late and have to pay a fine.
I hate paying late fees.
So we turned on the juice and power paddled.
And then a brutal head wind kicked up.
It was hard, but we got the boats back in time.
Later that night as I was sleeping in a tent on the ground my arms started to scream at me:
"What were you thinking!!! you never work out! I don't think you've even attempted a chin-up in 8 years, you fool! You cannot rip us to SHREADS and just go on without hearing about it from us!!!!"
I was laying in my sleeping bag, tears pouring down my cheeks, stifling wracking sobs in an attempt to not disturb my friends. At about 1 am I'd had it. I got up out of the tent, hobbled to my car and started driving around the entire lake trying to find a hotel room.
Yep. It's true. I left my friends stranded at a campground without giving them any indication where I was because the pain was too much for my fragile body to bear. Turns out I just don't know my limits.
Which is the exact same thing I was thinking all day yesterday.
Saturday morning I woke up early and spent the entire morning turbo-painting our mud room. The excruciating agony I felt all day on Sunday was my reminder that it might be a good idea to occasionally work out the muscles in my upper body before I go on a crazy painting spree...