This morning I woke up to the smell of french toast dancing up the stairs from the kitchen. I drifted back to sleep until my mom came and started tapping on the door.
“Girls, breakfast is almost gone”
I mumbled, “ten more minutes mom, save me some”
I slowly opened my eyes as the other girls leaped out of bed and darted out of the room. Some people are blessed with the ability to wake up and completely be ready for action. I am not one of those people. I need a good half an hour before my grumbles turn into decipherable English. My parents learned the hard way to not speak to me until my eyes are all the way open, and I am dressed for the day.
This morning was just like any other. I decided to wait a few more seconds before I actually began to move. I flexed my toes first, then my feet and legs. I tried to turn over and the second I started to move my arms it started.
It went all the way from my neck and shoulders down to my tailbone. Anyone who has ever worked out knows this feeling. I have worked out before, but this morning I was so sore that it hurt to breathe once I started moving. I sat up and tried to stretch out my arms, but stopped halfway and cringed in agony. I tried to slowly move my neck around as I listened to the clanks of silverware on plates the floor below me.
I wouldn't say that I'm out of shape, but I definitely could work out my upper body more. Yesterday was the “Lumberjack Festival” at Black Moshannon State Park about a half hour from campus. Its main events include things like log cross cut, hatchet throw, and log roll. Every year I come I do almost every one of them, and this year was no different. I usually am not that tired after things like this. Maybe it is just a sign from God that I need to get a gym membership.
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