It’s been 6 days since I rejoined the gym in Madurai after 13 long years — and so far, I’ve been doing one thing consistently: stretching. And by stretching, I mean attempting to bend my body while it protests like an old rusted door.

The first 4 days were… let’s just say, humbling. My arms were so sore, my right bicep started pulsing like it had a heartbeat of its own — tup-tup, as if to say, “Welcome back, buddy!”

Stretching used to be my favorite part of working out. Back in my old gym days, I’d look forward to it so much that I’d pester my trainer (and friend) Satheesh to stretch me out every chance I got. Fast forward to now — Satheesh runs his own gym, and it’s nostalgic being back under his guidance. With him around, even pain feels like a reunion tour — starring Me vs My Body.

The last two days, I finally started enjoying the stretches again. There’s a strange comfort in feeling slightly less stiff. Progress, right?

But the real villain in this comeback story? The foam roller for abs. Just thinking about it makes my stomach muscles whimper. I’ve tried using it for 6 days straight, but my core refuses to cooperate. I now understand why it’s called a “core” — because mine has gone completely missing.

Anyway, I’ve promised myself three months of pure discipline. No shortcuts. No giving up. First, I’ll get back to being normal. Then, slowly and steadily, I’ll work toward light workouts — you know, the kind that don’t make me look like a baby giraffe trying to stand.

So here I am. Six days in, halfway broken, slightly bent, but fully committed.

Let the comeback begin — one stiff stretch at a time.