DOMS

Delayed Onset Muscle Soreness (DOMS) is an actual medical condition and I’m convinced I have the worst case ever recorded in the history of mankind.

Since I am now the poster child for DOMS, I’m going to rename it OMGMFLAKM—Oh My God, My Freakin’ Legs Are Killing Me.

I looked up DOMS on WebMd, which has this to say about it.

“’DOMS is a result of stretching the muscle beyond what it is accustomed to.’ says David O. Draper, professor and director of the graduate program in sports medicine/athletic training at Brigham Young University in Provo, Utah.

‘Small microscopic tears occur in the muscle,’ he says.

Scientists believe this damage, coupled with the inflammation that accompanies these tears, causes the pain.

‘The aches and pains should be minor,’ says Carol Torgan, an exercise physiologist and fellow of the American College of Sports Medicine, ‘and are simply indications that muscles are adapting to your fitness regimen.’”

The aches and pains should be minor, they say. Uh huh. Those two yahoos have never worked out with Marq.

The morning after my anniversary dinner, exactly two days after my lower body workout with Marq, I stepped out of bed and gasped. The entire length of the back of my legs was on fire. And tight. I couldn’t straighten my legs completely.

I took a few tentative steps, swore vehemently, and quickly decided to crawl. My lovable but ignorant dog, Snickers, took my posture to mean, “playtime.” As I crawled out of my bedroom, down the hall toward the top of the stairs, my overzealous brown mutt bounced all over me, treating me like a chew toy. “Play, play, Mommy play,” her antics shouted at me.

Good morning indeed.

I struggled down the steps, taking one at a time. My gait reminded me of my grandmother’s after her knee replacement surgery. Michael, my ever-supportive husband, just snickered behind me.

“You’re going to hurt yourself with all this exercise,” was his only comment.

I’m going to hurt myself? Um, yeah, I think I’m already there.

After downing my morning latte and 800mg of ibuprofen, my legs started to loosen up. I found that as long as I didn’t extend my legs completely, but instead walked around like a semi-erect Neandrathal, the pain was tolerable.

Remember that blog I wrote the other day? The cocky one that said, “Oooooh, Marq’s not working me hard enough. I’m so awesome, I’m not even sore.”

Yeah, that one. I take it all back.

The esteemed Mr. David Draper from Brigham Young University has this to say about my pain. “Soreness can serve as encouragement in a workout program because people like immediate results. So something like soreness can give people encouragement that they are in fact working the muscle.”

It probably can give some people encouragement, for example, masochists. Normal folks like me aren’t so keen on this level of discomfort.

I have been reduced to a crawling, humbled, prehistoric woman.

Me in much pain.

Me no like Marq.

Me hit next time me see.

Ugh.