I'm sore. My muscles are ripped, torn, shredded like sheets of wasted paper. From now forward I'll face my workouts with moderation. I vow to spin my stationary bike sanely and lift weights cautiously. I may even spring for more steady shoes to assuage my angry arches. But that'll have to wait till I find a job. In the mean time I walk slowly, my muscles tinged with pain, my mind tinged with regret.