“Get the hump out of your back.”
Sounds simple enough, right? (Well, unless you’re Quasimodo, but you know what I mean.)
Let me tell you that after yesterday’s workout, I am literally terrified to have a hump in my back. Whenever someone showed poor lifting form and allowed their back to round out, we had to immediately drop and do push-ups. I’m thinking that this is some sort of medieval-based torture plot designed by Carl to cripple us at a young age, but I have not confirmed this yet.
The good thing is that our group only had to drop and do push-ups once, and so help me, if anyone else had a hump in their back, there was going to be all-out rioting by the rest of the class. Now, no one knows who the original hunch-backed perpetrator was (could’ve been me for all I know), BUT I do know that from that point on, everyone displayed ramrod-rigid posture.
Which is good. Except when you are used to sitting all day at your desk hunched over like a mad scientist on a deadline. When you suddenly switch up that routine and start forcing your back into some sort of disciplined posture, even for an hour, well things that didn’t used to ache start to ache. A lot.
So I am aching and eating ibuprofen. I sort of thought I had gotten past the worst of being sore after workouts, but I am clearly being taught that every now and then, you can find some long-hidden muscle groups that protest with all their being at the mere hint of being used. Like that muscle in the middle of your back—below the shoulder blades but above the lower back. Right smack in the middle. That one.
Right now the thought of a steamroller running over my back actually sounds pleasant. Anyone know someone who would be willing to walk on my back for, oh, say a half a day or so?