Boxing Training..
"The Ultimate Workout"…..or "How to feel like throwing up the lunch you haven't eaten workout"
It was hell. Precisely which part of the entire experience was hell is debatable. First days back into a fitness regime are never particularly fun …due to the fact that I am always hopelessly unfit when I attempt to get my lazy arse back off the floor, couch, beanbag, bed or wherever there is little need of exertion . Why I leave getting fit until I am terribly unfit is a huge mystery to me. There seems to be no sensible ongoing routine in my life when it comes to fitness.
No, I prefer to attack it in bursts. It doesn't matter how many times I hear the benefits of ongoing activity and see the ads on the telly (while I am lounging around watching them, nodding in agreement) that recommend 30 minutes a day of walking, it still does not motivate me to lift a finger let alone my gluteus maximus. Mmmmm… get up at 6.30am for a brisk power walk around the park, breathing in the beautiful fresh air, cheerily saying "Morning" to everyone, blood pumping, coming back feeling alive…OR have another hours kip in the comfort of my snugly bed…..sorry, I am not a morning person.
However, I will endorse the idea of fitness to others, fully prepared to share my experience (however long ago) of what worked for me. Do as I say, not as I do!
I think it's because I get bored so quickly. At least far quicker than the duration of my gym membership. Where are the results… like… now!!!? I know it takes perserverance and patience, but that means nothing to me as I weigh up the comfort of cruising on the couch on a cold night, (specially if Coronation St is on!), versus the temporary pain I am going to endure for weeks before I notice that clothes hang off me in the right places. Every gym's dream, that's me. Pay the membership, run out of steam within a few months and continue to sponser them anyway.
I wonder if I carry it on just to ease my conscience a little. A very little. Being able to say that I belong to a gym seems to indicate that yes, I am a busy , fit, active, interesting person with a good balance of work and play . Then of course there is which gym you belong too. They all have connotations attached…
Having said all that it was time for my fitness burst. Purely because of the reluctance of my body to conform to the shape I had envisaged for the past few months on its own accord. What's that saying… 'Think it and you can Be it' hmmmm well I had proof that that wasn't quite the case!
I gave myself adequate buildup to the idea of getting into shape. Six months had been spent generously telling everyone who was interested about the wonders of boxing and kickboxing… 'at a real boxing gym run by real boxers'. After six months of selling it to myself, and to avoid becoming the girl who cried wolf, there finally came an evening when I had run out of excuses not to go and was faced with the inevitable….doing it!
It was quite pitiful just how nervous I was. Thoughts kept flashing through my mind from people who had already gone through it. 'You'll feel like throwing up'. ' Make sure you have a good sports drink so you don't pass out'. 'It's the hardest cardio workout I've ever done'. 'You'll be a sweaty puddle on the floor at the end'. These comments from legends who believed running up the Sky Tower stairs was fun. What's wrong with the lift? However they also said, 'You'll feel fantastic afterwards'. 'You can eat what you want'. 'You'll feel so confident' and importantly for me 'You will get results fast'….I liked the sound of that!
My trepidation was not eased when I turned up and quickly established I was the only female in a small group of eight. And what was this warmup business with the skipping ropes? (Whatever happened to good old fashioned stretches?) How was it that as a wee girl at primary school I could do magnificent things with skipping ropes? And the speed that I could jump rope was mindblowing, one leg at a time, both legs, no legs, crossing the rope, you name it. But oh no, twas not to be when there was an audience around (all men) as an adult. Where had my co-ordination and speed gone? Apparently to the guys! Who was the clumsy awkward girl in the middle of the floor? Mental note - practise skipping before coming again!
A fleeting thought passed through my mind before we started…was there a good reason why women chose not to do this class I wondered. YES was the resounding answer after the five longest minutes of my life.
Our instructor was the only other woman, no wait, half woman half machine. Honest. As she cheerily yelled out ,'RUN', I looked around in astonishment as all the guys sprinted off after her. Surely not I thought to myself. That wasn't in the brochure. I HATE RUNNING. What's running got to do with Kickboxing? Well to give her the benefit of the doubt (maybe she was new to instructing?.. and I had paid $12.50 for the pleasure ) I hauled arse and sprinted after them. I was impressed with my pace to start with. Kept up with the boys no problem…then we hit the hill. One by one they all passed me. At the stage where my lungs were on fire and I thought I might just sneak back, grab my car keys and go home,( they'd never know), our instructor's head popped out from around the corner of the hill, grinning away at me. Machine woman was waiting for me! To her credit she assured me she couldn't even make it around the block the first few times she came. That made me feel heaps better. There was hope.
I was feeling pretty ok when we ran back into the gym. However, machine woman then demanded ten laps of the gym with ten burpees at either end (it was beyond me how burping was going to help me get into shape!). Was she completely mad? Only then were we warmed up enough to begin kickboxing (!@**!!). That was when I looked at the clock. NEVER and I repeat NEVER look at the clock. It was 7.07pm…class went for an hour and we had started at ….7pm.
Some parts of the class are a blur or maybe I just chose to block them from memory (like people suffering from some sort of traumatic experience). I distinctly remember wanting to throw up the lunch I hadn't eaten that day and used it as an excuse to stumble to the sidelines to catch my breath. And I surprised myself with the fun I had punching my instructor (she had protective pads on that we had to aim for).
Despite the situps, pressups, starjumps, squats, burpees, laps of the gym, handstands, kicking and boxing, our group bonded. No-one even spoke, lets face it , no-one could. But it was comforting getting the nod from a fellow sweaty, red-faced, trembly leg, fitness seeker.
Oh the joy when the whistle blew at the end of the session. I had managed to complete what was definitely the hardest and most relentless cardio workout I had ever done!
It begs the question….will I return? I have a feeling that my boredom threshold will be severely challenged there!
My body was exhausted. Too tired to care about my trembly legs, sweaty hair and bright red face, I drove home slowly. Ahhhhhhhh the feeling of sinking into a tub of hot water and bath salts! When I finally and gratefully went to bed that night I don't even remember falling asleep… but boy did I feel good.
Regards, a very exhausted and sore..
romiley
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