At the rehab center's gym this morning, I was working away at the weight-machine and corestix portions when I observed a bunch of elderly folks toddling toward the yoga studio room. Good for them!
Then I went to do my free weights, and discovered that the ladies and gents had taken off with all one the one, two, three, and four-pound weights (except one lonely one-pound weight sitting abandoned at the bottom of the rack.)I gulped, and looked at my discharge instructions. Well, they do say "increase weight as condition improves." So I picked up the five-pound dumbells, and proceeded to try to do two my two sets of ten in every range of motion with them.
Oh, my stars and garters. Ow. That felt almost like I was back in the beginning of physical therapy. On the other hand, it wasn't actually injurious, and perhaps I had been taking it a little too easy...
I'm now lying on the couch, trying to decide if I'm a masochist or just really well trained by a succession of physical therapists. Because I know when I next go to the gym, I'm going to do that again.