Day 19: Carrying the Pig

If you read Kid's Lit, as I frequently do for work, then you may know what I'm talking about. If not, you may want to read Louis Sachar's Holes.

In the story the main character's no-good-dirty-rotten-pig-stealing-great-great-grandfather is cursed because he doesn't fulfill a promise to the local, magical, wise woman. She tells him how to win the woman he loves, by impressing her father with the best and biggest pig in the village. She gives him a scrawny runt of a pig and lays down the rules: every day you must carry the pig to the top of the mountain and let him drink from the magical spring. When the boy complains that he won't be strong enough to carry the pig when it is fattened, she explains that each day as the boy carries the increasingly larger pig up the mountain, he too will be getting bigger and stronger.

So I'm carrying the pig.

At times it feels kind of like this.

But slowly I am seeing improvement.

My pants are fitting better. I did my workout when I got home from work. 900 with trips, but no stops! I would not have believed I could do this 19 days ago.

Then I ran off to capoeira:

two hours of playing, singing, working on my handstand and no-hand cartwheel and my feet ache and my ankles feel tight, but I'm not nearly as tired as I would expect my body to feel.

And at long last my pull-up bar came, so hopefully I can tackle those incline or real pull-ups without cursing out the underside of my table.

My no-hand cartwheel could look like this someday!

So my fellow peakers, here's to carrying the pig!