Is it really possible to feel this sore….
It’s been a few days since we met with Jacob. A lot of days, actually. I thought we were going to be running off onto some adventure immediately afterward, but instead 330 got us hotel rooms (separate rooms, because apparently she’s made of money) and we haven’t done much since.
Well, haven’t done anything related to those monster things, at least. And the things we have done are the reason I’m logging onto this blog to vent….
The morning after we got the hotel, 330 threw open my door and tossed a bag on my bed, as seems to be her usual way of saying “good morning.” Yes, she has a key to my room, no, I don’t have a key to hers. I am aware of the unequal nature of this. Anyways, I thought this meant we were going to be hitting the road again, which, in hindsight, might have been the preferable outcome. Instead, she said to me, “It’s a beautiful day outside, and I said, hey, why waste it. So I got you some running gear.”
And that is how my hell began.
330 claims this isn’t in response to my complete failure at riding a bike, but I’m not sure I believe her on that. With what she’s been putting me though, I think her mission is either get me into amazing shape, or to kill me, and right now I’m starting to think it’s more the latter….
Since I have yet to develop the ability to actually protest against the things 330 tells me to do, a few minutes later I was outside at a park, wearing skimpier shorts than I ever have before (never understood the appeal of them, to be honest…), torn between dread at what was approaching and curiosity as I tried to surreptitiously look at 330. It was the first time I’ve ever seen her not wearing long sleeves. And…. I don’t know whether or not I should have expected what I saw.
Of course I’d known she’d had injuries before, from the eye patch and the facial scars. But I’d just assumed that those were all there was to it. Instead…. There were some really serious looking burn scars just below her right wrist and on both her legs. And her left arm… it was completely covered in bandages. Not an inch of skin showing. And that’s not even mentioning the various other small scars and cuts along her arm and legs….
Course, in spite of all that, she still pulled off the running clothes look better than me. Not that it was a big accomplishment, to be honest….
Whatever curiosity I had about those injuries didn’t last long, because I was promptly told to run for twenty minutes without stopping.
After five I felt like I was about to collapse and die.
By ten I actually was about to collapse, and 330 let me stop.
So, experiment failed, right? It was a nice try, but I’m just not cut out for being in shape, right?
Nope.
We’ve been continuing this tradition of morning workouts every day since then. Sometimes 330 mixes things up by including pushups, sit up, hill runs, or whatever else her sadistic mind can think of.
At last I understand what hell feels like.
Can I please go back to the time where I just blindly followed 330 around while she did crazy things while I had no idea what was going on.
-Lisa
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