Monday, May 1

I can hardly move
Yesterday morning, I ventured to my local leisure centre to get those endorphins pumping with an hour of cardio kickbox.

I have a really irrational fear about fitness classes. I dread turning up and being the only person there. My nightmare is just me and some uber-fit, foxy, early 20-something instructor - them yelling instructions at me over the banging techno tunes while I sweat, wheeze and pant my way through the longest hour of my life.

I was a bit late, so as I rushed up to the doors, the banging tunes had already started - they must just be getting going on the warm-up.

But when I opened the door, it was just me. The nightmare had come true. Just me and a female instructor who looked like she'd just come off the set of Prisoner Cell Block-H. Just me, "The Warden", the banging techno - and a set of boxing gloves and pads.

"Don't worry," she said. "I'll partner you."

Oh. My. God.

I was expecting a Thai-Bo style workout - girlie aerobics with extra kicks and punches. Instead I was about to embark on sixty minutes of sparring with a woman who looked as if she'd seen a fair few fights in her time.

I wanted to run away, but we were straight into the warm-up, then on to the toughest work-out I've ever had in my life.

Punch. Kick. Harder. Sprint. Jab. Jump. Run. Skip. Squat. Sprint. Faster.

For one whole hour.

Today, it really hurts.

2 comments:

  1. Sounds a bit too much exercise in one go that to be honest. Best take it easy and just go for a long walk or something 'cos that sounds much too much x

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  2. Oh. My. God @ 'don't worry I'll partner you!'

    I would have wished to die on the spot and would have had a job shuffling away from the brick I'd just errr shat!
    (and in my dream of such things I'm often naked or can't find any suitable attire to exercise in!! At least you were fully clothed ;o))
    And you got your money's worth! A personal training session no less!

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