Two sessions of boot camp this summer must have shaken my brain loose or something. As I've said over and over, I hate to exercise (and have the wide butt to prove it). But there is some strange little voice in my head that keeps telling me it's ok to try out new forms of exercise. It keeps telling me that I'm stronger than I think. That I'm tougher than I look.
But cardio kick boxing?
My favorite trainer, Denise, offered a "beginner" cbk class at EWHC. It started on October 1 and naturally, the little voice convinced me to sign up and go. After all, I survived boot camp with Denise AND a month of personal training with her this summer. How hard can it be if it's a beginner class, right?
Right. The first night I did my usual have to keep up with all the skinny girls in class to prove that the fat girl isn't as out of shape as she looks. Yeah, that was stupid. I could barely walk for 2 days after that. Last week, I was the whining I-don't-want-to-go 'cause it's too hard personality on Wednesday. I went, but whined to myself the whole way there, all through the class, and all the way home. I even whined to Denise after class.
So here I sit, with less than an hour to go before class starts. I brought my workout clothes and my fancy new shoes that allow me to pivot during class. I'm carefully watching the clock so that I can spring forth from my desk at exactly 4:55 p.m. to make it to the gym in time to change and be on the floor by exactly 5:30 p.m. I'm not sure what my attitude is today. I'm not trying to talk myself out of it, but I'm not happy about going either.
One thing is for sure: I know I'll be sweaty and pooped in less than 2 hours, and I'll be sore again tomorrow.
Just call me Kel Kick Boxing Queen. Or, as my friend Angela calls me, KKBQ.
Until next time,
Kel
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