Making Myself Sore

Almost every day, I have about 2 hours-ish after classes before I actually start to do stuff. Yeah, stuff. Most of the time, I just chill and be lazy. No more, says I. I've decided to pull a stupid: I'm gonna start working out again.
Well, I DID start working out again. Yesterday was the first day, and it was pretty cool. I'd forgotten what the adrenaline rush of pumping iron felt like. But this morning... not so good. My muscles are destroyed, and that makes the body think to itself "why did I do that? That was really stupid, why would I do that again? I need time to rest."
However, in the red corner we have the mind. "It's called working out, remember? We did it waaaay back when? It'll hurt for the first while, but you'll look better." "Are you nuts? I just ripped myself apart for this and that blah, blah...."
That's kind of how the argument goes, but the mind finally wins. So now, the body's angry at it, and I'm mad at it.
Not very good odds for my mind.