On Friday morning I was at the gym by 6:10am. Longtime readers will be shocked by this double whammy of early rising and gym patronage, but it is true. For the first time in my life I have joined a gym, and I have been training myself to wake early in anticipation of my membership. I could make up all kinds of stories, but the truth is that my motivation is fear. Kirsten’s parents will be coming to Australia in less than four weeks, and I am a boombalada. This needs to change in order to make a less-bad impression.
Joining the gym wasn’t entirely unprecedented though. I have been swimming semi-regularly since I moved to Lane Cove, and kickboxing for 6 months. The kickboxing helped me choose my first class at the gym: Boxing. It wasn’t as softcock as I feared, but it wasn’t as good as I’d hoped. There was no focus on technique – it was all a bit “accessible”. A cross was a punch, a hook was a rib (seriously) and an uppercut was an under. At least we were using focus mitts, I was afraid it would all be a bit tae-bo.
I will continue to go to the ‘boxing’ class, it was a good workout. I will try and maintain proper form. I will also do normal gym stuff.
I think I will have to go back to kickboxing as well, so I don’t get corrupted by the Punches, Unders and Ribs.