Tuesday, May 22, 2012
The first time I walked into cardio kickboxing, my instructors did a double-take. They took the time to stress that I should take things at my own pace and not overdo it. I don’t really blame them. I was one of the heaviest people in the room and one of the oldest. At the end of the hour, they both said the same thing, “I’m amazed at how much you can do!” I’m fairly sure that meant, “I’m amazed that I didn’t have to do CPR on you!”
I wrote in my diary on that day and just went back and looked at it. I wrote that I was amazed that I was still alive. In fact I think the only thing that was assuring me that I was alive was the full body pain I was feeling. I was so sore that I needed my son to help me up the stairs. My husband said, “Are you sure you want to go again? I’m not sure you could survive it.”
It has been almost 6 months since I started kickboxing once a week. I went last night and while I was tired and lightly sore, I didn’t have to break out the anti-inflammatories. I didn’t have to march in place while everyone else did jacks. My kicks are still low compared to everyone else and my jump roping is more of a quick march, but I’m keeping up with the class!
Now I get a kick out of the double takes that I get from people when I mention kickboxing. I still haven’t turned into that lean mean fighting machine. But I’m pretty proud of myself. I’m doing something that is hard and am sticking with it. And instead of having my “you know what” kicked, I’m kicking it!