I'm not exaggerating when I say I might die.

If you've been around my blog very long, you will know that I am not very dramatic.  {You will also know when I am using extreme sarcasm.}  When I say that I might die, I AM NOT KIDDING.  For the first time in my married life, I belong to a gym.  Yesterday, I put on my big girl panties and went by myself to my first class.  It was a strength training class.  Today, I had trouble getting dressed and I can barely sit on the toilet without crying.  

      

I did this class years ago before I was married, so I knew what to expect.  I went ultra light on the weights, but it didn't matter.  My muscles hate me today.  And, I'm going back tomorrow for more torture.

Oh, guess what else...
My sister-in-law challenged my sister and me to this lovely thing:

Yeah!  As if joining a gym isn't torture enough, I'm doing a squat challenge.  I did 50 last night, 55 this afternoon and by the end of the challenge, it says I will be doing 250.  OMG.

SO, join us!  I don't know if I'm supposed to mention this because it could ruin their manly reputations, but my brother and Eric are doing it with us.  We just did day 1 yesterday, so jump in and do day 2 with us today!  Let me know if you do, and I will send you a text daily to annoy encourage you.  :-)

If you see me around over the next few weeks and I'm crying, it's probably not an emotional thing.  It's just because I am dying.  ;-)