I knew that this ballet class thing was going to have an eventual result: one day, I would wake up, and every inch of me would hurt. So far I've only had the pleasant soreness of having done something active and slightly strenuous, but I hadn't really minded, because it wasn't that bad, and also I felt a sense of accomplishment, like "I've done something good for myself! Yay me!"
Class number seven was the magic one. I woke up this morning, and my first thought was "ouch." And that was before I had actually moved at all. So instead of "Yay me!" this morning was "Yay Tylenol!"