Gaits of hell

I think my legs are going to fall off.

No, really. You know that pain I mistook as a sign of a good workout? It was actually a sign of progressive leg loss.

Last week's sessions on the old Gazelle left the muscles in my inner thighs aching and begging for mercy, so Sunday night I decided to take a nice brisk walk instead. I underestimated the distance to the video store, and what I thought would be a moderately short workout turned out to be quite lengthy. I also learned that my neighborhood, while fun and quirky in daylight, is more than a little scary at dusk. Drunkards and junkies and leerers, oh my! I practically flew home, and my body was groaning in protest by the time I got there.

So today I awoke to find that the soreness in my inner thighs had been replaced by a slightly lesser pain in my outer thighs. No big deal, I thought. I figured I just needed to stretch -- and walk to the grocery store. We at Rock and Roll Grammarian believe in walking instead of driving whenever possible -- sometimes even in the blistering midday heat.

Silly, silly grammarian! That walk didn't help one iota. My muscles stiffened as the day progressed, and by 8 p.m. I was hobbling around the newsroom like an 84-year-old woman -- I think I even clutched my back once or twice (for it hurts, too). It hasn't been that long since I worked out regularly. Why are my legs rebelling so? Is it my gait? My shoes? What did I do to deserve this agony?

Have you seen the ads for those devices that promise to tone your stomach by electrically stimulating the muscles? Someone needs to invent one that works the whole body at once. Or better yet, someone needs to invent a Body Shaping Hydrochamber. Float while you gain muscle and lose fat? I'd totally use one of those.