Yesterday was a historic day for me.
I injured myself working out.
The first time ever (if you don't count dropping a weight plate on my foot a few years ago...)
Um hum, you say. (nodding head knowingly)
See?
All that lifting and grunting and whatnot.
It ain't good for a feller.
'Specially an old geezer like yoo.
Shut up and let me 'splain.
On rep 35 of my first set of lunges(planned reps = 40), I pulled a muscle in my left hamstring bundle.
I tried to finish the set but left hammy would have none of it.
Nuh uh, him say.
After a few minutes of rubbing and gentle stretching to try to salvage the two remaining sets of the exercise, I submitted to the will of the Lord.
He had determined for some reason to cut that move short. (prolly another lesson in humility...)
I finished the other exercises in the workout and was done.
Almost every time I moved yesterday my left leg barked or squeaked in protest.
Today (muted trumpets play fanfare in the background) I wondered how my wounded hammy would tolerate my planned dead lifts (and other moves).
All 36 of them.
Well, the results are in and I win.
My hamstrings put up with (the best that can ever be said about how a part of my body "likes" a particular exercise) my dead lifts just fine.
If fact, I made a mistake when putting on the weights and assembled the weight to be 10 pounds more than planned.
I STILL did three sets of 12 reps with the "wrong" weight.
Woo hoo.
The gotcha today was bent dumbbell rows (after the deadlifts).
I was tired (from a tossy-turny night on the bed, mostly, I think) and not looking forward to the heavy rows. (which consist of lifting an 85 pound dumbell with one arm 12 or 14 times for 3 sets for each arm). [85 x 36 x 2 = 6,120 pounds total for both arms]
Anyway, a test lift in the required position elicited town-hall-meeting level protests from my left ham bundle.
That was enough for me.
I didn't want to do the exercise today anyway.
Thanks, leg.
Thankfully, my injury seems minor and keeping the affected area busy should help it be all better by next Monday when it will be squat time again.
Hopefully, my two planned walks around the neighborhood will help the problem and not add to it.
It's just walking, right?
In God we trust...
.
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