Day 9: Plyometrics II Electric Legdeath

"Tip of the day: Think. Like. A. Cat."

Tony does a little light toe-to-toe step to illustrate what he means. Jump gracefully, land softly.

I look at my cats for inspiration. How do they think? How do they move? How do they act?

Usually, it's like this:

This is Beyla.

Or like this:

This is Cheshire.

Sometimes, they do this:

This is a catnip-fueled turf war. Kids: don't do drugs.

They were both sleeping. Not helpful. So I broke out the laser pointer I'd just bought.

If I'm going to be working, so are they.

Plyometrics II was just as heinous as Plyometrics I - possibly more so, as I'd elected to walk home from work, which is about four miles. You get that nice slice of Brooklyn life walking down Flatbush Avenue from DUMBO to Lefferts Gardens, plus it's a good chance to catch up with your folks on the phone. It's not a good start to sixty minutes of jumping.

After 15 minutes, I was dripping. By 40, I was submerged and having serious doubts as to my ability to finish the video. Tony was smug. The guy in the back was jumping 30 inches higher and farther than was required. Erik Stolhanske continued to have one leg. Pam, on the other hand, was my salvation. "They call her 'Blam,'" but I just called her "friend."

Also, did you know any of this?

Badass.

I made it. Barely, but made it. I hobbled around for a bit, had my shower, shake, and sushi, and was not much good for anything else. Recovery this morning, though, was much quicker than last week - additional hike notwithstanding.

Also: scales indicate that there is 1.5 pounds less of me in existence, compared to this time last week. So for those of you investing in the Geoff standard, now's the time - available supply in coming weeks may not meet demand. (Financial advice AND fitness information? How lucky are you?)

Cheshire, meanwhile, will keep dreaming of the laser pointer.

xkcd, you are so wise.