As you read this blog, I must warn that you will find, honest thoughts, ambitions, and hopes from my mind.
After the usual hour-long chapel service on a cold Sunday morning, there is nothing better than trudging back to the house, jumping into your onesie and snuggling on the couch for some TV time for 2 hours before lunch. It seems to be what everybody does… Everybody who is sane anyway…
As you may have discovered through reading these blog entries, oh beautiful people of the Internet, I am not a sane person – I’m a crazy fool. So, this freezing Sunday morning, instead of laughing at Take Me Out, I decided to trudge off to the gymnasium for a Boxercise class.
If you have ever been to a Boxercise class, then bravo to you! If you haven’t, you must try it. It’s essentially boxing to music mixed with a few other exercises… Sound easy? WRONG! That class will bring out a boxing beast in you… You may scare yourself at your abilities… And you will surely leave weak and exhausted.
First of all, there’s the warm-up, or as it should be called, The Shocker. Warm-ups sound like a nice easy jog, or some gentle stretches to ease you into exercising. Not in the world of Boxercise. It teases you with a gentle jog around the gym, misleading you into thinking that you can handle this class… But the pace picks up into a basic run. Then you have to change direction, colliding with people in front and behind you, then change direction again, and again, and again… And again. Suddenly, numbers are screamed at you – 1 is touch ground with left hand, 2 is touch ground with right hand, 3 is touch ground with both hands, 4 is jump high with arms stretched to the ceiling, and 5 is fall onto your backside, roll and stand to run. You’re trying to breathe, keep your legs going, change direction without collisions, and remember numbers all at the same time. And then it becomes a sprint. Oh, you evil warm-up… How I hate you.
After all this, you can’t even sit on the floor – this is only the beginning. You stretch one part of your body, holding it for 30 seconds. You think the worst is over, as this seems almost easy. Wrong again. After those 30 seconds, on the floor for situps for 30 seconds. Then up, another stretch, followed by pressups. Another stretch, ending in a plank… Torturous.
Of course, this leads to the boxing – finally! Shadow boxing is extremely awkward. You just punch the air as hard as you can… Repeatedly. I feel ridiculous – I look so stupid! I’m told to ‘break my opponent’s nose’ – THE AIR DOESN’T HAVE A NOSE IT’S IMPOSSIBLE FOR ME TO BREAK SOMETHING THAT ISN’T THERE!
After the frustrating battle with AirMan, I paired with my Elvis loving friend, and we took it in turns of one punching while the other defended. I was careful not to punch too hard, as I didn’t want to hurt her, despite her wearing defence pads. “The defence pads will stop you hurting her, surely?” I hear you say… Yes, you’d think so, wouldn’t you? I thought that last half term when we went, but my dear friend apparently thought it would be fine to have a floppy wrist while I aimed amazingly, knock-out blows to her defence pads… To cut a long story short, we had to leave the class 10 minutes early due to me shattering her wrist. I am a boxing beast.
The beauty of boxercise is the music. My teacher who held the class had borrowed a CD of ‘Motivational Music’ from a German friend… As a result, there was a hilarious amount of German rapping. I am always amused to hear words I don’t understand in songs in different languages, and try to work out what they mean… For instance, my ginger friend and I tried to sing along to an Indian song yesterday, and concluded that the woman had been in love with an animal, but her Italian dinner of spaghetti made him leave… Such fun!
There was one English rap song on there, and as you can expect, there was swearing. It appears my teacher hadn’t thought of this, so when the word ‘Mother****er’ was said, and I burst out laughing, he raced to the stereo and clicked ‘Next’. His face was bright red, and he tried to turn the song off with his boxing gloves still on, hitting the stereo frantically before ripping the gloves off. I howled with laughter at his pure embarrassment at such filthy words on the CD… I don’t think he’ll be borrowing it again. Shame.
After an hour of this beastly class, I grabbed my water bottle and crawled out of the gymnasium, exhausted, defeated, and almost dead. I looked at my watch – 12:40. Lunch was at 1:00. That’s 20 minutes to get to the house, put my kit in the wash, have a shower, get dressed, blow dry my hair, get people out the house and arrive at the dining hall. I groaned in agony, both at the thought and the muscle pain. No rest for me then… I should have just watched Take Me Out.
Well, my dear readers, I wanted to hit 700 views by this entry – I burst through and recieved 719… YAY! Thank you all for reading this! Much love. Good night.