Sweat it...

So, after my 5km walk – I’m not running again yet, I’m trying to be a good, obedient girl due to my pulled muscle – it completely sucks of course – and after an hour of RPM (Raw power in motion on spin bikes aka really painful muscles on bikes with tweeny weeny seats), I did aqua aerobics. I’m a great believer in trying everything at least once. Would I do the mermaidian aqua thing again? Er, no. It’s a little tame for me. I’m one of those people who likes to sweat profusely while doing things hard and fast and painfully because in my mind all that torture means serious kill-you-or-cure-you-fitness. I like to limp away exhausted. I want my muscles with a side order of oh-my-god-why-did-I-do-that-pain and knowing that the litres of toxins sweated out means I can go put more evil, naughty, lovely things in and sweat them all out again. 

Nobody ever drowned in his own sweat ~Ann Landers 

Both tears and sweat are salty, but they render a different result. Tears will get you sympathy; sweat will get you change ~Jesse Jackson