I don't know squat!

Last week felt good. I finally posted some weight loss after a few weeks atop the plateau, and I noticed I'd gotten too small for a couple of my belts. What a great feeling! This week I have a different feeling...and it is not a pleasant one. I'm one sore dude.

Yesterday rather than go to the Summit, I did another living room workout. Once again I plugged in the Wii and asked it to do its worst. The resulting workout lasted about 20 minutes and left me feeling thoroughly abused. How could that tiny machine pack so much pain into 20 short minutes? One word: squats.

I hate squats. I hate lunges. I hate squat jumps. I hate alternating lunges. I hate any exercise that engages whatever theoretical muscles called on by any of the the aforementioned activities. Two seconds into a set of squats I feel like the Tin Man in those terrifying last moments before he rusted over. "Oil can," my soul cries out, but there's no one there to hear me.

I don't know why I have such trouble with squats and lunges. In theory I know that I have the requisite muscles, but in practice they never seem to be home when I call on them. Honestly, I look at my four-month-old daughter as she pops up and down in our arms, and I know with certainty that she has stronger quads than me. I'm not even talking about stronger in proportion to her size, either. I'm saying that right now today she could squat more weight than me. The little punk probably wouldn't even need a spotter. I love her dearly, but she may be dangerous.

All this to say that my legs were trembling all day yesterday. This morning I woke up to find that the jello had not solidified and I was still walking on spaghetti noodles. I was extremely nervous about how well I'd hold up for the morning swim.

I hit the water, though, and was quickly reminded why I love swimming. My tired legs got a break for 45 minutes while the rest of my body got a good workout from my 2,300 yard swim. I think I'm starting to see why I never developed the muscles require to do squats.

Back out of the pool, though, I'm hurting. I limp around my office like Forrest Gump before Jenny told him to run. My thighs and posterior feel like they've been through a violent caning session. If this is what being fit feels like...what's the point?