Legs Kick My Ass...

...yup. Every time.

Thursday night was legs night. For something that only takes 30 minutes, MAN, it gets me.

I wore my knee sleeve on my more troublesome right knee. That thing (much like its cousin, the knee strap) does absolutely nothing for me when I'm running, but I hoped that it would give me a little extra stabilization to tackle these oh-so-elusive lunges.

I don't know if it was the sleeve or just the fact that I concentrated a whole lot more on my form, but I was able to actually complete some decent lunges -- and not with those goofy three pound weights, either. (NO! I went up to EIGHT pounds -- that's a total of SIXTEEN, for those of you counting.)

Legs:

- Squats, 3x8 with two 20-lb dumbbells (one on each shoulder)
- Lunges, 3x8 on each side, with two 8-lb dumbbells
- Stiff-leg deadlifts, 3x8 with two 45-lb dumbbells
- Calf raises on a platform, 3x15 holding a 20-lb dumbbell
- Calf raises on the floor, 3x15 at 90lbs using the preacher curl machine (what can I say -- I have to be creative here!)

Tonight was supposed to be a rest night, with yesterday designated for 20-minute cardio intervals followed by pull. However...eeesh. Yeah, my legs night was more successful than the last one...which meant that I had trouble walking up stairs. And putting on my pants, for that matter. I was planning to just postpone the cardio and only lift, but alas, even that was not in the cards. Around 7pm, after I got back from walking Sophie, I got socked with a NASTY headache -- I couldn't even tolerate light, and when poor PhillyGuy called to let me know he was on his way home and would pick up Indian takeout for us, I cut him off after about four seconds of talk time.

So, instead of the gym, I horsed down some Tylenol, grabbed my dog, and spent the next hour laying on my bed in total darkness with a puppy curled up next to me.

Blech. Thankfully, by the time PhillyGuy got home (complete with chicken makhni, some kind of spinach/paneer deliciousness, and a giant pillowy naan), I was better...but blech. Not my kind of way to spend a Friday.