Kick-my-ass boxing

Mixed feelings about Kick boxing tonight.


PRO:  As I walked in I realized that the instructor was my crazy-in-shape Gym crush. I’m allowed to talk about him because I describe him as “Latino W”– he really does look a lot like W.  Height, bone structure, hair… but Hispanic and with a bit more… um… edge.  And tattoos. And his crooked nose is probably from boxing, not genetics. But as long as my gym crush isn’t the 6’3″ hunking black  Adonis that also trains there, W doesn’t seem to mind that I have a gym crush that resembles him.
CON:  intimidated by cute crazy in shape instructor!

NOT my gym crush


CON: For the first 5 minute “warm up”, Latino W BLASTED hard core metal. To, uh, get us amped??  I just about ran out of the room
PRO:  Metal turned to COLDPLAY during our punching series.  Vida la Vida!


PRO: First time I’ve used a jump rope in who knows how long. FUN!…
CON:  Yeah, fun FOR THE FIRST 2 MINUTES.  Then it lost its luster and I felt like I had to puke.


PRO: During my first one-on-one punching time with Latino W he called me “Champ”.  I believe he was being ironic.
CON:  When he called me over for my second series, I said something along the lines of, “Are you starting with me again, punk?”  To say I didn’t get a reaction would be an understatement. Instead he just yelled at me about how exposed I was leaving my ribcage.  He also applauded the 8 of us for our “seriousness” during class at the end. hmm.


CON: I felt like Shay on the Biggest Loser. I really thought I was going to pass out or throw up a couple times. And I really hurt myself kicking the heavy bag, but felt stupid so kept on going. And I can’t really do more than 5 squat thrusts in a row. And I definitely can’t walk my hands out and then do a push up and then walk my hands back and then do it again for 3 minutes.
PRO:  “Middle Eastern Belly Dance” was the next class, and when you walk out of the doors past girls in their belly dancing skirts after you’ve been through a class like that with Latino W, you can’t help but feel a bit smug.  AND I allowed myself to have cheese ravioli for dinner.

A champ has got to carb up, son. Get me my ravioli

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