i get up to run at 6.20 but the aches and pains are amplified well beyond anything so far. i run about three minutes before my ankle ceases to flex normally and i stumble.

'glad that wasn't for a gym audience on a treadmill,' i think to myself, forever the optimist.

i limp back to my room and stretch my ankles and shins as best i can before class, then go and do my best skipping impression-- it's not a very good one and i know it. i stop to stretch a lot, drawing disapproving looks from pot and X. "heeey, skipping, skipping," pot yells, mimes skipping and points at everybody skipping. i go back to skipping but hit my ankles with the rope more times than i clear it. sweat eventually comes in a thick, belligerent ooze. "heeey, lead stretch lead stretch," pot says to me. i go through the group stretch as best as i remember, sweat now running in rivers off me. i can't catch my breath until finally i get something resembling a second wind even though i never have a first. i ride it as long as i can, through the bag and pad work, going something like quarter speed. my joints rattle even at this pace and my pulse feels like it's pushing sluggishly through veins three sizes too small. i finish the workout. i go back to my room and throw up, thankful this wasn't for an audience either.