Everyone knows Facebook has become a bit of a stalker.
What I didn't know was how much it was learning about me personally.
A couple weeks ago, my feed displayed a promotion for a kickboxing class in town. $10 for gloves and 3 classes!
I have no idea how the social site knew I wouldn't be able to resist. But I couldn't.
Today was my first class. And holy **** I haven't worked that hard since my swim coach made us do three sets of stadium bleachers without pause.
I was wheezing and dizzy after the warm up and sure I was going to fall over at some point the rest of the time.
But I punched and kicked my way through it.
And I loved it.
It's my working theory that taking karate ten-plus years ago paid off. The stances were pretty much the same, even if you hit with your shin instead of the top of your foot with the one kick. Pivoting with my back foot came back like a muscle memory that had been dying to be used. And, damn, I made that bag MOVE.
Now, at the end of the day, I feel proud of myself for going. And for not quitting partway through like I wanted to when the breathing got bad.
I don't think any of the instructors would have blamed me for calling it had I chose to--they certainly didn't have an issue the couple times I had to take a seat for a minute when I felt a little puke-y--but I think I might have genuinely impressed them with not giving up.
Cynics would say it could have been an act that was part of a sales pitch.
I really don't think so, though. (And I've got this one really annoying, constantly yammering part of my brain that's all gloom and doom and everyone is out to get you.)
I'm in bad shape, y'all. It's not a big, shameful secret.
But...wow. I did it.
And I liked it. More than liked it.
And holy hell do I want to go back.
~Liss
What I didn't know was how much it was learning about me personally.
A couple weeks ago, my feed displayed a promotion for a kickboxing class in town. $10 for gloves and 3 classes!
I have no idea how the social site knew I wouldn't be able to resist. But I couldn't.
Today was my first class. And holy **** I haven't worked that hard since my swim coach made us do three sets of stadium bleachers without pause.
I was wheezing and dizzy after the warm up and sure I was going to fall over at some point the rest of the time.
But I punched and kicked my way through it.
And I loved it.
It's my working theory that taking karate ten-plus years ago paid off. The stances were pretty much the same, even if you hit with your shin instead of the top of your foot with the one kick. Pivoting with my back foot came back like a muscle memory that had been dying to be used. And, damn, I made that bag MOVE.
Now, at the end of the day, I feel proud of myself for going. And for not quitting partway through like I wanted to when the breathing got bad.
I don't think any of the instructors would have blamed me for calling it had I chose to--they certainly didn't have an issue the couple times I had to take a seat for a minute when I felt a little puke-y--but I think I might have genuinely impressed them with not giving up.
Cynics would say it could have been an act that was part of a sales pitch.
I really don't think so, though. (And I've got this one really annoying, constantly yammering part of my brain that's all gloom and doom and everyone is out to get you.)
I'm in bad shape, y'all. It's not a big, shameful secret.
But...wow. I did it.
And I liked it. More than liked it.
And holy hell do I want to go back.
~Liss
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