Wednesday, January 30, 2019

Day 30: we box

I just got my butt kicked for an hour and a half. Quite literally, kicked.

Here is one of the many things I learned today: boxing is a TON of leg-work. I honestly had no idea. I thought it was just a bunch of bouncing around and jabbing. Turns out I was very, very wrong. I spent half of our session unsuccessfully blocking kicks from this guy:

Mike, our trainer, was so fast that when I'd throw out my (shin-padded) leg to block one kick, he'd instantly bounce to the other leg and WHACK! WHACK WHACK WHACK! It's like I was moving in slow motion. It was also a comedy when he was teaching me the various kicks. The high kicks were the worst. I don't know if you know this about me, but the highest my leg goes is roughly knee-height. It's just wonderful how flexible I am. Every time he'd encourage me to kick his side or his stomach, I'd futilely swing my leg up as high as I could and smack him in the thigh. At one point he grabbed my foot and lifted it to the right height and while I was windmilling, he told me, 'You have to open your hips.' OPEN MY HIPS. I gathered as much dignity and balance as I could while having my leg hoisted in the air and angled to the side like he indicated to get my shin facing the right way. 'You have to open your hips!' he repeated. I protested: 'I am!' 'No, like THIS' and before I could blink, he twisted my entire leg and I nearly face-planted on the mat. 'Like THAT,' he said with satisfaction.

It wasn't much better when I sparred with Nigel, the friend who brought me. He's a member of the boxing gym, fights in actual matches, and is clearly a madman. He was so good that he could block all my kicks without even breaking eye contact. He also had to keep reminding me to keep my gloves up; if I were in a real match, I would've been punched in the face every six seconds. 

I limped all the way home. 

Much to Mike's glee.

I'm almost sad that tomorrow we end this month of torture. 


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