Pumped! Or, Why Do I Hurt All Over?

Wow, I had forgotten how much I love weightlifting. It is fantastic. I pick things up and I put them down again. I am both Hans AND Franz! I have a new answer to the "Why do I hurt all over?" prompt from Cards Against Humanity. That answer is:

Because I am lifting weights like it is my job. My job at which I only work for two hours a day and for which I pay. Nonetheless, I feel fantastic.

Throughout the spring semester, I could feel myself atrophying, melting into the chairs in which I was continually sitting, turning into the Marshmallow Man and/or Senator Kelly. No more! I am reversing the process, morphing into The Mighty Thor (slowly).

Of course, we cannot tell that I am The Mighty Thor yet because my winter layer of insulation has not yet receded. However, according to my spiffy new Star Trek scale, today I weigh two hundred fifteen pounds with forty percent (gasp) body fat and thirty-three percent muscle.

My short term goal is to get my body composition such that my muscle is equal to the fat.

One hitch in this whole plan is that since I started lifting the other day I AM HUNGRY ALL THE TIME. Invocation of sundry deities here. Over the last couple of years, I have gotten pretty good at ignoring being hungry, which I suspect has been a valuable skill; I do not even want to speculate on what would have happened this past semester if I had not acquired that skill.*

So now, my challenge is to get enough protein without eating all the calories because those pants are not going to fit into themselves. Or something. I have recently started consuming protein powder-based drinks (I can hear everyone groaning now. They are not that bad) and choosing my food based on how much protein per calorie it contains. I have also been eating so much spinach that my right arm, by now, should have turned into a giant  sledgehammer with which to smite my beady-eyed enemies. Alas, this has not yet occurred.

The upshot, however, is that I feel great, I am leveling up on Fitocracy with much greater speed than previously, and that I am maintaining my caloric deficit with only moderate pain. The proof will be in what my result is by the end of the month; I am shooting for two hundred five. I will accept a result close to that, but if I am too far off I am going to have to reevaluate my diet again.

However, until then, Hans and Franz have nothing on my, and my nails are sparkly and fabulous.

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* I gained thirty pounds this semester. For reference, for the fall semester I only gained five, and much Taco Bell was eaten last fall. I think I drank exponentially more this semester, so despite having cut out all fast food ever, I gained vast quantities of weight. Thus my present program.