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Oct. 5th, 2012 11:58 amThere have been all these posts I've wanted to write, but haven't had time, what with work and kids and Jewish holidays and consulting and entertaining (or failing to entertain, as our dinner plans for this evening fell through). I was going to be all anthropologicially intellectual and stuff, sounding off about ritual and transformation, but what's consuming me instead is this kickboxing class I just signed up for. I am so excited; I'm going to learn to beat the shit out of a punching bag. How awesome is that?
I've wanted to get into kickboxing for something like ten, twelve years -- ever since my friend Mo asked me to take classes with him. I was very much intrigued (not least by the idea of actually getting to move around and lose some weight) but also very much saddled with an extremely grumpy toddler and a husband who didn't like me doing anything that didn't involve him, and he'd determine what we did, thank you very much. So kickboxing? Not so much back then, yeah. But the idea has stuck with me, and was revived when I was looking for fun stuff for L and me to do together, and saw kickboxing advertised in a spring flyer for adult education at the local high school. At the time I didn't sign up because L is positively obsessed with bridge and they also had a bridge class, and the whole point of taking classes was to do something together, and kickboxing is kind of not a guy thing, as I'm coming to see. Also, the administration shoves all physical education classes into the same two gyms, and after past experience I know better than to try to learn a physical activity in a large auditorium full of other groups of people trying to learn completely different activities. Any direction your instructor gives you rebounds off the walls and ceiling, as do other instructors' directions. You know how you hear an emergency siren when you're driving, but you have no idea where it's coming from? Yeah, it ends up being like that. So no kickboxing last spring.
But two days ago, I opened my "junk" email client -- the one I use for groupons and other assorted ads I kinda want but kinda actually don't -- and there it was, right at the top, a groupon for kickboxing! 10 classes for $20, at a real boxing gym nearby. A real boxing gym! With real coaches who'll scream bloody hell at me and not let me say, "oh, I just can't do it, let me rest a moment." And real gloves, which will be quite cool to try on (I surprise myself with this last -- boxing has never been a sport that I've glorified in the least. I think it's awful, really, making a sport out of two men beating each other senseless. But honestly, how cool are those little red girl boxing gloves?)
So I am very excited. Mondays the kids are usually with their mother (god help us all), so I called and scheduled classes for Monday nights at 8 pm. That will give L a little time to write or at least to look for his research materials for the article he'd like to work on, or just time to comment on everyone's LJ or whatever the man wants to get up to while I'm punching away at a bag hanging from a ceiling.
And yeah, I do realize that my next post will be a complaint about how I can't move parts of my body I didn't know I had. Yeah.
I've wanted to get into kickboxing for something like ten, twelve years -- ever since my friend Mo asked me to take classes with him. I was very much intrigued (not least by the idea of actually getting to move around and lose some weight) but also very much saddled with an extremely grumpy toddler and a husband who didn't like me doing anything that didn't involve him, and he'd determine what we did, thank you very much. So kickboxing? Not so much back then, yeah. But the idea has stuck with me, and was revived when I was looking for fun stuff for L and me to do together, and saw kickboxing advertised in a spring flyer for adult education at the local high school. At the time I didn't sign up because L is positively obsessed with bridge and they also had a bridge class, and the whole point of taking classes was to do something together, and kickboxing is kind of not a guy thing, as I'm coming to see. Also, the administration shoves all physical education classes into the same two gyms, and after past experience I know better than to try to learn a physical activity in a large auditorium full of other groups of people trying to learn completely different activities. Any direction your instructor gives you rebounds off the walls and ceiling, as do other instructors' directions. You know how you hear an emergency siren when you're driving, but you have no idea where it's coming from? Yeah, it ends up being like that. So no kickboxing last spring.
But two days ago, I opened my "junk" email client -- the one I use for groupons and other assorted ads I kinda want but kinda actually don't -- and there it was, right at the top, a groupon for kickboxing! 10 classes for $20, at a real boxing gym nearby. A real boxing gym! With real coaches who'll scream bloody hell at me and not let me say, "oh, I just can't do it, let me rest a moment." And real gloves, which will be quite cool to try on (I surprise myself with this last -- boxing has never been a sport that I've glorified in the least. I think it's awful, really, making a sport out of two men beating each other senseless. But honestly, how cool are those little red girl boxing gloves?)
So I am very excited. Mondays the kids are usually with their mother (god help us all), so I called and scheduled classes for Monday nights at 8 pm. That will give L a little time to write or at least to look for his research materials for the article he'd like to work on, or just time to comment on everyone's LJ or whatever the man wants to get up to while I'm punching away at a bag hanging from a ceiling.
And yeah, I do realize that my next post will be a complaint about how I can't move parts of my body I didn't know I had. Yeah.
