My newest pain/Coming again?

Turns out circuits, in itself, wasn't so bad.

Whats bad is doing it with that strange sense of pride whispering in your ear.

"Look they can do it, surely YOU can keep up too.". The voice insists. It's rhetorical, it knows you're going to.

Even if it means your lungs feel like your breathing sulphurous fire, your muscles are slowly turning into acid filled sacks of uselessness, and your heart is beating so fast it's just a quivering, wreck like an over pressurised bottle within your chest, vibrating, waiting to explode.

Poetic licence...maybe.

10 minutes of jogging, side-stepping, hoping warm up. Barked at me by the Gestapo like instructor.

Schnell.

5 minutes goes by, my pace has slowed, not by intention. I'm breathing hard. Very hard. Harder than I have for some time. I set off too fast.

The time ends and I can have a much needed reprieve. It doesn't last long.

Oh god, am I this un-fit?

Schnell.

We're led like through the stretches by the Judas Goat instructor, I'm sweating heavily still. We haven't started yet.

Oh god, I can barely touch my knees, nevermind my fucking toes!

What follows is 36 stations of acute hell, 60 seconds, change, 60 seconds, change, 60 seconds...all the time, Herr Instructor is there "Faster! HARDER! Last 10 seconds, PUSH!". Reverse sits up, burpess (fucking burpees! I still hate them), neider press, skipping, punch bag (not so bad), dips, press ups, reverse dips up amongst others. "HARDER!"

Now I know why the kit is there, what it's for, how to use it, the knowledge offers no comfort.

I have all the co-ordination of a drunk village idiot. Flapping my useless arms around, the way you see girls run in anime films, jumping things with all the poise and rigidity of a jelly fish. I'm too tired to give a fuck what I look like, but I notice the others I'm going round with are leaping with gazelle like style and vigour over anything in their paths.

They power through the 60 seconds of press ups, non-stop. I'm struggling not top head butt the gym floor, leave a bloody/sweaty mess for the net person to drip on. My eyes sting from the sweat.

I manage it, mostly, I take 30 seconds off some. Let my heart calm down. My clothes are soaked with sweat. I look around, too tired for embarrassment, I see others in a similar state, a small relief.

I've grab a mouthful of drink as I go past it every now and then.

Schnell.

We jog gently for a cool down, well, I don't. I squat by the wall, too tired to feel emotion, waves of dizziness hitting me. All I can feel is pain in my arms, legs and lungs. I feel too tired to remark on it when my friends asks how I am.

We stretch again. I go dizzy again.

We do the last stretch. Everyone claps.

I feel like it's for me. They know how much it hurt, what I'd been through, the pain I will feel tomorrow.

We put the de-mystified kit away between us all.

My legs are heavy, but I'm starting to feel again...I'm feeling...okay? No. Better than okay. To my own surprise, I'm actually starting to feel good. This doesn't make any sense to me, but I role with it.

"So coming next time?", I'm feeling quite good. "Certainly will."

The next day, a little stiffness, but otherwise fine. The day after that, fine.

Schnell.