I've said it before, and I'll say it again, Sarge is trying to kill me.
Thursday at the gym we did this workout. I think my time was something like 17:35, but I substituted a 25lb dumbbell for the kettleball, and had about 110 on the pull-up weight stack. Since I couldn't do a pull up to save my life, seriously. Then we played about 20 minutes of tennis. Man, we suck at tennis, that's the reason we play tennis, we are equally sucky, so nobody gets mad, it's fun and not competitive. But COME ON!!! That was a combined run of .75 miles, 63 dumbbell swings, and 36 pull-ups.
The previous day I had been working on this for a friend:
I guess her church is having some kind of singles luau/dance.
So my shoulders were pretty achy already. That freaking thing was bout 9 feet tall, and 12 feet long.
Thursday afternoon after I had gotten the approval on the finished mural, the friend reminded me that I was going to do a Tiki mural as well. Well, crap. So I got started on that one as well. As I was finishing up with the coloring and shading of that one, a PTA friend called an let me know that the dance Piko deGallo's school was having the next day needed decorations. I agreed to show up for that after dinner.
I show up at the school, and the only person there to decorate the cafeteria besides me is the friend who called me. Dude, we must have blown up about 500 balloons that night. Thankfully she had these little hand pumps that did most of the work, but AGH, again with the aching shoulders. We get mostly done there at about 9:30, and I head home.
Crap! The Tiki still needs detail outlining. Shoulders again! I wish I was ambidextrous. But it turned out freaking awesome! I want to paint one of these in our house, but Sarge says not. Though as you can see, it is totally Piko approved.
This gives you some idea of the scale I was working in.
Back to the school on Friday for the "dance". Pre-K, and Kindergarten are first, so Sarge and I attend. Balloons popping galore. I guess we have to replenish the stock for the other classes. Which means more using of the hand pump. Ow, OW! OW!!
But the kids had a great time, (however the DJ kept playing that damn "Apple Bottom Jeans" song, which is another rant entirely!) and by the time the 2nd graders got into the dance there was less popping of the balloons. Thank goodness.
So I guess I'm blaming Sarge, but it looks like he was only about 25% responsible for my current state of pain. My own stupid volunteering self is responsible for the other 75%.
Though last night, he was trying to convince me to do the split jerk workout. Um, NO.