If you strike me down, I shall become more powerful than you could possibly imagine...

My best friend from back home, when we worked out together, used to posit that the human body is the only thing [that he could think of] that, the more you try to break it down, the stronger it becomes. While I'm not going to argue that logic- the philosophies you espouse under the barbell of a Smith Machine are seldom those that would hold up under close scrutiny. He's also the purveyor of the winsome "must punish the body for being small!" outlook which I've taken on (paraphrased, as "weak" or "doughy" is the crime for which I mete out auto-corporal punishment).

But I can't help but be reminded, whenever I work out (which I've done more and more in the past couple weeks- aiming for [but seldom hitting the mark of] 6 days a week of workouts has been a good endeavor for me, so far. Soon, hopefully, the punishment shift to the crime of smallness.) of how much building muscle is a process of destruction. Stretch and rip the muscle fibers, so they can, like scar tissue building up over the place I scraped my elbow after that bicycle accident, cover the break. It's an amazing process, really. I guess that's why I only feel like I've done a real workout if I hurt a little the next day (major hurting just makes me realize it's been too many days since I last hit the gym, or I've pulled something the wrong way- which happens less and less, now that I'm a more frequent visitor of the Smith Machine and know what I'm doing).

Anyhow, last night I was at home, and stepped out of my room for a second. The door was open partway, and I'd bent down to pick something up off the floor, and when I stood back up, banged my left bicep into the doorknob. I believe the noise I let out was something akin to what a cow would make if you were to chloroform it, mid-moo. Hurt like a bitch. And stupid me, it was my cluttered room shoving the door back on me. It's a clue, people. Messy bedroom strikes back. Maybe time to clean?

While it hurt, I wasn't hurt too badly. But I woke up this morning hurting almost exactly as I hurt when I've worked out hard. And the bicep is swollen just like it'd be after a workout- pumped up, not a bruised-and-swollen sort of thing.

Just weird, is all. Had to share. Can't help but mentally follow the logical course- that a good workout just equals beating up the individual muscles. Rather than doing squats, just bang your quads into the counter 10 times- 3 sets of ten. And to work the trapezius, slam your shoulders into the doorframe, sets of 12, 10, and 8. Remember to exhale as you slam. Punch yourself in the stomach everyday, though. The abdominal muscles need to be worked out more often than most muscles.
*slug* (oof.)

Back to the gym tomorrow (today I hurt too bad, so I must make up for it by doing a full-body workout tomorrow).

The working out has been good, though. I've been noticing small changes in the way things are put together, and have been asked by more than one person if I've lost weight, or was told I'm looking more in-shape.

If I go back and look at my older blogs, I find that this is a trend I've seen before. Sheer laziness has caused me to drift away from a proper routine. Stupid lazy bum. Maybe keeping better track of stuff will keep me more on track. Who knows.