Yes, my friends, it happened. My daughter somehow convinced me to go with her to a kickboxing class. The conversation went something like this:Shelby: Mom, I've been going to this kickboxing class and it really is great.
Me: Thats nice.
Shelby: It really works you out. I have been sore for days!
Me: Thats nice.
Shelby: We should go tonight.
Me: Thats nice....but thats gotta be a no! (Big girl + Kickboxing = Unattractive Awkwardness and Heart Attack).
Shelby: Come on Mom. It goes by so fast (total lie, felt like I was dying for two days). There are old people in there (total lie again, 50's or younger). Not everyone is skinny (liar, liar, pants on fire) and we will have lots of fun (Umm, pain does not equal fun).
To make a short story shorter, guess where I ended up at 6pm last night? I should have known what was up when the Grace Jones look-a-like in the military spandex took her place at the front of the room. Hip, funky music filled the room and she immediately launched into some punching and kicking. I stood there (in the back of the room of course) wondering where in the heck was the "warm up"? I later figured out that this chick was not concerned with warming up, cooling down or breathing (I quit breathing somewhere around the 5 minute mark). I kicked, punched, hopped, twisted, ran and twirled. Half the time I didn't know if I was coming or going, but I didn't pass out, puke or collapse so I figure I was doing pretty good.
Sometime during the hour, the painful fog lifted enough for me to notice something weird. All of the people were chanting in unison like some kind of cult. If she hollered "upper cut", everyone yelled "one, two, upper cut! three, four, upper cut!" I looked around wondering how they could find enough breathe to talk. At one point she yelled out "Want some more"?! Thank God I didn't yell out "no" (it was right on the tip of my tongue). The fitness obsessed cult members all chanted as if on cue "Bring it! We'll take it!" Creepiest crap I've ever seen. The pain kicked back in at that point and the rest of the class is a blur. I am not sure which leg hurt more, the one that was kicking or the one that was having to hold up my big butt all by itself! Overall, this is what I learned:
1) That there is no "happy place" in kickboxing class
2) That skinny people actually enjoy pain
3) That my brand of deodorant works
4) That I can keep my rotundus arse moving for a full hour straight
The picture to your left is the culprit who tried to kill me. Cute but deadly. Might take some time before I fully trust her again (she will lead you to the wolves with a smile on her face). I am only slightly sore (surprise, surprise) but I do seem to "stiffen up" every time I sit still for longer than 20 minutes. In a weird sort of way, I am proud of myself. Even though I modified some of the moves (my leg does NOT go higher than my waist and probably never will), I never quit. I am also pretty sure that despite all the "issues" I had, I probably burned some serious fattage. Will I ever go back? Your darn skippy. Call me a glutton for punishment, but I guess torture can be kinda awesome especially when you get to experience it with a bunch of fitness freaks (eyes glazed over, sweat rolling, and spandex gleaming). You gotta love it.
Fabulous kickboxing clip art and animated gif was taken from Blackpool Karate (and I didn't Photoshop them, aren't you proud?)
This entry was posted
on Thursday, February 5, 2009
at Thursday, February 05, 2009
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challenges,
exercise,
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health,
lifestyle change,
motivation,
overweight,
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