Five years ago I used to do kickboxing training, nothing professional, just for fun and fitness. My instructor taught me a combination of boxing, kickboxing, Thai and Jiujitsu moves, and it was AWESOME.
I felt SO good, strong, energetic and fit. All that punching and kicking was surprisingly very satisfying – even though I’m not a very angry or intense person, and I’m definitely not one to describe myself as “needing to let off some steam”. Anyway, I also played socially in a mixed netball and soccer team, scuba dived and danced. So I guess I was pretty fit back then.
Now? Haha, I’d be lucky if I went for a walk each day.
Anyway, with my 27th birthday approaching and reminding me that I’m creeping towards the big 3-0… I decided that I want to feel good, strong and fit again.
I haven’t been able to find a kickboxing training course, so in the meantime I’ve been going to a kickboxing aerobics workout.
Ha, I thought it was going to be a nice easy introduction back into the world of fitness.
But oooh maaaan, 30 minutes in, and I felt like I was going to puke. My muscles were burning. I wanted to crawl into a hole and die from implosion, like a lamb casserole in a microwave.
I sit here, my whole body aching and groaning, as if I’ve been bashed and left in a gutter by the side of the road. Walking is torturous. Holding my head straight is hard work. Even clicking my mouse is painful. And I thought having a baby was bad.