Killer robots from Africa

What the hell happened to me today? Why?!? Why would someone do that to me?

Now, for those who know me well enough, you'll know that I'm a running dilentante. I rarely go more than 6 months before I fly off the wagon & into a big jug of beer until I start losing my sanity again over the shape of my proto beer belly & the running begins anew. Then it's rinse & repeat ad infinitum. I have however, recently hit the treadmill again after a 2 month hiatus & thought I was doing pretty well. I'm back up to a semi-comfortable 5 km & don't feel like one of my legs has turned entirely into porrige by the time I get to the shower sweating, shaking & swearing I'll just get lap band surgery & boob implants instead of descending into that hell ever again.

Well, my paradigm just got bent today. In a big way. As a matter of fact, I'd think it would be safe to say that my poor paradigm got bent over.

So as it turns out, Tony Robbins, Richard Simmons & Jean Claude Van Damme met in some underground lab & smelted a few volcanoes together into the shape of a 6 foot thick South African man-killing Brazilian Ju Jitsu-teaching robot Satan. And when he's not eating trains and punching mountains in outer space, he's training the poor slobs that sit at their desks all day arranging platform changes at the nab. Long story short: He hates humans. And he shows it by putting them through the most sadistic exercise circuit ever devised. I am such a weak-arse that I bailed halfway through feeling so dizzy it was like my eyes had exchanged places at some point & my face had become the lid of a pressure cooker. If I had done one more 'burpy', I would have made it a 'hurley'. After an ice-cold 10 minute shower I was still bucketing sweat & feeling like I'd been maced then defibrillated, so I got dressed into my now soggy work clothes. Oh, no wait, first I put my leg into my pants & instantly cramped up. Spinning like a whirling dervish in a change room with wet floors with your dacks hanging half off your leg, your opposite hand on your foot tetanus victim-style & a look on your face like an invisible someone is violating you where you stand is not cool. So my calf muscle eventually stopped trying to turn into a black hole & I got my clothes on & staggered outside where the smiling nightmare man said, "Don't worry mate. The first time is always the hardest. See you next week".

Bastard.

Fine, I'll go back next week, but if it gets that horrendous again I may have to build up a defense mechanism like crying to get out of doing the bike or something...I'm not proud. But I am tired. Actually, I'm sure that on Thursday I will be as crippled as Timmay (see pic).