Tuesday, November 17, 2009

There are seven working defenses from this position. Four disarm with minimal contact, two kill, and the last one ... HURTS.

Quite an ego boost last night at cardio kickboxing:

I showed up to find the entire gym crammed with people, all of whom seemed to be using the class as one of their trial sessions. Many of these appeared to be CC kids, who apparently have followed me from the junior-high track to PPCS. I sort of rolled my eyes, wrapped my hands, gloved up, and got into it, and was surprised to find that these kids, as young and strapping and healthful as they all were could not keep up with me. Over the course of the hour, one of them, a tall and muscular young man, had to go lie down, as I continued to punch and kick and kick and punch and kick, and the rest of them, no matter how lithe, were panting and sweating and shaking their heads at how ridiculously hard they found it all.

Then, because I wanted to give back some of the encouragement others had given me, I told a small cluster of girls at the water fountain: "You guys are doing great. This is only my fourth class and I'm already finding it a lot easier. Plus, I've lost 12 pounds." The stared at me for a moment. "You're kidding." I shook my head. "Nope. Over the course of about two weeks." I then went to my cubby to put my shoes and hoodie on, and when I emerged, they were signing up for extended agreements. I should probably get a kickback for this.

So I skipped running this morning, since it only seems to aggravate my knees. Instead, I'll do cardio kickboxing again during my lunch, and then head to the regular gym for some more elliptical and weights tonight. This will be my last class for the week, sadly, unless I can slip in a quick one before I host pub quiz tomorrow night. Then I'm winging my way south to Florida for a regrettably punch-free weekend. I will somehow survive this and only grow stronger and more terrible.

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