Physical exertion upon my thighs and legs earlier this evening turned them into shivering furred boar-like creatures. Steps I have taken since those 45 squats with dumbells have exposed their presence underneath my skin. They vibrate when I walk; I can feel their bristles and their quivering movements when going from the computer to the kitchen sink, and back again. They are in anticipation for that state of disarray that mot-à-mot translation terms muscular fever.
I learned the term in Romania. It is when lactic acid remains in the muscles and while it is being burned off, so is pain. To me it feels like my muscles catch some fever and they cannot help but shake like unhealthy hunks of tangled fibre. After a while, as with any temporary ailment, the fever will go away, but continuing to exercise as I did today will help build up an immunity.
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