Why is it worth the pain?

I am in pain!

John says it is a good pain. I say it is too much and I do not deserve it. We went to the gym on Sunday and... gymed. Workouted. Did some exercising! I used the cross-trainer to warm up while John was on the treadmill. I hate that machine - the feeling afterwards makes me carsick. After fifteen minutes I switched to another machine. The names of these things are not important. I know two... I wrote them. Also, I think the names are printed onto the machines... but I only looked at one and never bothered to look at the others. (That is how I learned that it is called a cross-trainer.)

I sat down in the seat of the second machine and lifted with my leg-muscles. Training - almost science. John was still running. I turned around to exercise the muscles on the other side of the legs. John sat down by the machine next to me, lifting weights with his biceps or triceps. Names are not important here!

I could not do anything with those back-muscles. My knees hurt. My legs would not go up. I gave up. I stood staring at John to make him move so I could use the machine. He finished his reps and walked over to the leg machine. I sat down. Did some fine thirty lifts with my chest muscles. Then I tried biceps (or triceps... I lifted upwards). I did ten then rested for a bit. Only I could barely get to ten each time. Around seven or eight I would rise from the chair to lift the thing upwards.

John came over to watch. He laughed and also cheered on me. One more! One more, come on! I tried to force my muscles to lift one more... and another one more. A third time and then I had done ten. Rested ninety seconds then tried ten again. Around seven I started rising from the chair again. The muscles would not move upwards no matter how much my brain and mouth was telling them to.

Then we split. John went to do some situps. I went to the cross-trainer again. I pushed it. Sprinted as much as you can on one of those things. Put the level up higher than I have ever done before. I was so sweaty after fifteen minutes. It felt good! I walked over to John, who was done with training and sat at the bench, and we stretched together. John not knowing how or what to do copied everything I did. We probably looked funny.

And that is the story of why I am in so much pain.

It was kind of empty in the gym around eight on a Sunday.