Hardest. Boxing Class. EVER. tonight. Our usual Thursday night kickboxing-cardio group was getting too big, so they re-worked the schedule to split it into two classes. Albert and I chose the later, “boxing-only”, class tonight. As soon as I saw the instructor I started wincing. He’s this really small guy but he’s so strong and wiry and flexible I bet he sleeps all Jean Claude Van Damme-style at night, doing the splits supported by wooden chairs in his bedroom. We had about three minutes of rest out of forty-five; the whole time we were punching and crunching and squatting. The worst was the last five minutes: We all started lying facedown on the floor in front of our bags. When he said “go” we had to spring to our feet, do 10 punches on the bags, then get back down and do 10 pushups. Then it was up for 8 punches and 8 pushes, etc, and so on down to 0. I was doing them girly-style (with my knees on the floor) and I still barely made it. I’m not going to be able to lift my arms tomorrow… And you know what made it worse? The godawful music they play there. I find myself wishing that some Max would step up in our group and be all, “Here’s this kickin’ CD of mash-ups I made for today’s workout.” And I would be propelled to new heights of ass-kicking-ness. Alas, our class is 90% chicks wearing makeup and I just don’t see it happenin’…
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I wish I could be there to slide some music in the CD player when Lil’ Jean-Claude wasn’t looking, Kris. I have gotten so spoiled at my gym because my Boot Camp instructor plays nothing but my mixes for class.
Sounds like an awesome and pukeworthy (that’s a compliment when I use it for gym classes) workout, though–and how fast would I use it as justification for a pint of ice cream for dinner?
I used it as justification for a chocolate tart from the Bourke Street Bakery today… Soooo good. 🙂