Exercise is hard. Throughout my life, I’ve suffered a hate-loathe affair with physical exertion, which is especially problematic because I try to do a lot of it. (My most recent obsession is muay thai. My shins regret this obsession.) But the thing I don’t get is how some people latch onto the punishment. My training partner routinely coos about the glory of exhausted muscles. This does not compute. While I endeavour to understand why some people love being so tired you could barf, have a bunch of bargains in a bucket. (This week’s plushie is a repeat because I’m desperately trying to prepare for classes after this. But new plushie photos are always, always welcomed.)
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