Thoughts From the Coffee Table: My knuckles are bleeding. And I couldn’t be happier!
OK, that’s stretching the truth. My knuckles are a little skinned up. There was actually no blood involved. Yet.
December 1 I had to admit that I had made virtually no progress towards my bold statement to be in the best shape of my adult life (thus far) by the time I turned 50, I went all in.
I went to a class at Title Boxing. I was terrified. I can’t deny it. But I went. And then kept going.
No one is punching at me, but I get to work out all kinds of aggression against a 100lb bag while it tallies my score.
I have no idea how the score is calculated, but being a fan of gamification in any form, I revel in the increase I see each class.
The more times I go the clearer my head gets. I could easily compare myself to the people around me. I am very competitive by nature.
But I find myself happily competing against me. The person I was the day before.
If you would have told me that I would be taking boxing lessons, I would have laughed. But this thing is no joke.
15 mins of crazy cardio. Eight 3-minute rounds. 15 mins of core that makes me want to throw up.
And I love it.
It is easy to wonder what the world thinks of you. But so much better to be clear about what you think of you.
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