Sweat and Hard Work
I missed the Monday session at the gym because I wasn’t feeling well, but came back on Wednesday with enough oomph to give myself Jello arms. This time, I was paired with someone extremely skilled, who also happened to be a good teacher. If I wasn’t getting the rhythm face-to-face, she’d stand beside me and have me mimic her motions. It was exactly what I needed as she taught me entirely new moves and combinations.
She also taught me how to properly left kick (there’s a little switch-hop to get my legs into the right position, something that had been eluding me in previous classes), and how to do a four-count series from left to right and back again: left kick – cross – hook – right kick, and right kick – hook – cross – left kick. Again. And again.
And then I did some solo time on the heavy bag, practicing my technique. Switch-hop-kick. Jab-jab-cross. Jab-jab-kick. Hook-kick-kick. Elbow-elbow-jab.
By the time I left, my limbs were useless. I came home to make my requisite post-workout peanut butter and jelly sandwich, only to find that I needed to open a new jar. Jello arms shook and slopped peanut butter all over the counter as I stirred.
And then, of course, I needed to take a shower. That was fine, but drying my hair? Yeah, I just sat on the floor and wished that I had one of those giant dome dryers that they have at salons.
I have another week before I have to decide if I’m going to commit beyond the month. I should, right? I actually like it! But there’s a large part of me that feels utterly ridiculous. “Oh, you go to the gym at lunch? What class do you take?” MMA. “Whaaaat?” people ask as they look at me strangely, wondering what the hell a 40-something is doing in a class like that. Hell, I wonder what I’m doing in a class like that.
And can we talk about how much I drink on gym days? Ha, no, not alcohol. That would only make me more tired. I’m talking about water, and lots of it. After my last workout, I plowed through 98 ounces of water in an eight hour span, and probably could have had more. I sweat buckets in this class — literally rivers of sweat running into my eyes. This is new for me. I didn’t even sweat like this in a hot afternoon half marathon in Germany!
And speaking of running… yeah, we don’t really speak of running anymore, do we? I miss my running buddy, but I’m really not missing the actual running. And since I’m going to be in DC for my board meeting the same weekend that I’m supposed to be running the Golden Gate half, I really have zero incentive to actually get back into it.
What do you think? Is it ridiculous for me to be going to this class?