It had been building up for 97 days.
I hadn't been to my gym since Sept. 3. I know this because it's been so long that I lost my swipie-card for the gym, and when the guy behind the counter ran my information the screen showed Sept. 3 as my last visit.
The past three months have not been good for my physical fitness. Some personal turmoil in September and my thesis in October and November conspired to keep me away. Sometimes in life you have to prioritize, and I had to put the gym on the back burner. The unfortunate side effect is that I'm much flabbier and fatass-ier than I was Sept. 3. It was all the more disappointing because I'd lost a decent amount of weight over the past year.
Friday I made my return to the gym, at which time I discovered that I couldn't find my swipie. They gave me a new swipie, but I was still nervous. My gym has a cool program where I can work with a small group of fellow gym members and a personal trainer for free. I didn't know if the others at the gym would judge me, and didn't know how long I'd be able to work out before fatigue got the better of me. Five minutes into the workout, my right tricep began to ache.
But everything returned to normal. I got through wind sprints, crunches, manmakers and a bunch of other exhausting exercises with only a couple of 30-second breaks. I'm sure I wasn't as good at them as I was Sept. 3 (and I'm already a little sore, which usually doesn't happen until a day or two later), but to a certain extent it'd like riding a bike. Most importantly, I didn't die.
I'll try my best to get to the gym four or five times a week in the next two weeks before my residency. Life is returning to normal, and it's worth it.