I realised that while I mentioned what my plan was for wednesday night, I never actually came back to that(or post) yesterday. So… boxing.
The petite, chipper asian woman who taught the class lulled me into a false sense of security with her smiling and friendly attitude. We punched and used weights and punched and used weights… and then we did that a bit more. We did an assortment of strange leg exercises and I spent the entire class partly out-of-breath. I was a bit confused about what she actually meant, when, partway through the class, she announced that ‘Now we’ll try to get our heartrates up!’… if my heartrate had gone up anymore, it would have exploded from my chest.
As we were leaving the classroom, our cheerful instructor pointed at my sister and I (I dragged her to this class with me) and said, ominously, “You’re going to hurt tomorrow!”… but in an upbeat and chipper kind of way.
Yesterday morning I woke up expecting the worst. Huh… nothing. Ok, that’s good! I felt that ‘nothing’ right up until about 10 am, which was also right about halfway through a two hour meeting to listen to presentations. From that point on, I fidgeted, I twisted, I held in my moans of pain to the best of my ability. My legs, my shoulders, my everythings… they were all on fire, and no-one could see it! I could hardly kneel to pet my dog that afternoon without pain throbbing and pulsing through my legs.
What I’m trying to say is : Boxing class beat me up!! It was mean to me… the punching bag punched back, and my legs feel like I ran a marathon.
Last night’s exercise? not much, though my muscles were screaming otherwise – I went on a three hour long walk and then made sangria and appetizers for my friend’s housewarming party tomorrow night.