Certain breeds of dog will exercise themselves to death, I think I'm right about that. I'm pretty sure I heard that someplace before. It sounds true.
How I wish exercise was addictive for humans, not to the point of death, but just something that you really want to do. The reality is: it's a chore. Something you have to do. The endorphins give you a kick and you certainly feel better once you're done, but that feeling is usually because you're done. That "feeling" does not make you want to get up the next morning and do it all over again.
How I wish exercise was addictive for humans, not to the point of death, but just something that you really want to do. The reality is: it's a chore. Something you have to do. The endorphins give you a kick and you certainly feel better once you're done, but that feeling is usually because you're done. That "feeling" does not make you want to get up the next morning and do it all over again.
This is not to take away from anyone's enjoyment of exercise - I love the elliptical thingie myself - but I do question the notion that there are people who wake up in the morning, completely "psyched" to exercise.
I myself exercise more than a few times a week - I even got my Gym Rat badge from Foursquare (jealous much?). A crowning achievement, since I was essentially a cough potato until god invented the internet. Then I became an internet potato.
Anyway, I was beginning to feel a little complacent at the gym recently. I could feel myself being drawn to the same old exercise machines and equipment. The same old routine. I knew I needed to shake things up, pronto.
At my old gym last year, they had a boxing class. Everyone in this class was hot, young and dripping with sweat. All things I was not, even after killing myself for 35 minutes on the Precor ... at level 3. After moving to a new neighborhood this year, I switched gyms, and to my great surprise they too had a boxing class. To my even greater surprise, the people in this class were a total mixed bag. Some young, some old, some hot, some not, some thin, some ... not-so-thin. I was a shoo-in to easily join this hodge-podge of mediocrity. I decided to participate.
That was about a month ago - and I've been going most Thursday nights. The class kicks my ass. The hardest part is the crawling - and it's not just because there are drops of sweat all over the floor that I have to dodge for a personal reason. (The Reason: It's gross and if I were to fall in someone else's sweat drops I'd throw-up in front of everyone, including my teacher, Juan, who'd probably make me clean it up all by myself, and then make me do ten jumping jacks).
Initially, I was seriously apprehensive of taking a "group" class. I have this fear of being the worst in any class. Even though I'm "sorta in shape," I was still petrified of falling behind in class (assuming they'd all been there for years .. or weeks). Being a good student, I went in about 15 minutes to speak with Juan. I knew that speaking with the teacher first would put me at ease before the class began.
At my old gym last year, they had a boxing class. Everyone in this class was hot, young and dripping with sweat. All things I was not, even after killing myself for 35 minutes on the Precor ... at level 3. After moving to a new neighborhood this year, I switched gyms, and to my great surprise they too had a boxing class. To my even greater surprise, the people in this class were a total mixed bag. Some young, some old, some hot, some not, some thin, some ... not-so-thin. I was a shoo-in to easily join this hodge-podge of mediocrity. I decided to participate.
That was about a month ago - and I've been going most Thursday nights. The class kicks my ass. The hardest part is the crawling - and it's not just because there are drops of sweat all over the floor that I have to dodge for a personal reason. (The Reason: It's gross and if I were to fall in someone else's sweat drops I'd throw-up in front of everyone, including my teacher, Juan, who'd probably make me clean it up all by myself, and then make me do ten jumping jacks).
Initially, I was seriously apprehensive of taking a "group" class. I have this fear of being the worst in any class. Even though I'm "sorta in shape," I was still petrified of falling behind in class (assuming they'd all been there for years .. or weeks). Being a good student, I went in about 15 minutes to speak with Juan. I knew that speaking with the teacher first would put me at ease before the class began.
Juan was a short gentleman, with a face that looked like it'd been seriously beat up a half dozen times. So much so, that his age could fall anywhere between 32-ish and 58-ish.
Me : Hi, I'm Brian. This is my first class, just so you know. I'm a little nervous about falling behind and not being able to keep up, or not being able to do some of the movements. Is there anything you can tell me about the class or any tips you can give me?
Juan : Hey, it is what it is. It's intense. You sweat. You're jumping the entire time and doing push-ups.
Me (to self): Holy Eff.
The convo did not go the way I'd hoped, and now I was petrified. I'm going to hurt myself, I thought, or I'm going to hurt someone else.
Before I knew it, the class started - fast. Very little warm up. The class was going by so quickly - including oodles of push-ups, jumping jacks, running in place, running in circles, crawling in circles - that I barely even had time to worry about what I was doing or if I was even doing it right. All I could do was ... do. I just kept moving and listening and moving again. It was very exciting and very sweaty.
Me : Hi, I'm Brian. This is my first class, just so you know. I'm a little nervous about falling behind and not being able to keep up, or not being able to do some of the movements. Is there anything you can tell me about the class or any tips you can give me?
Juan : Hey, it is what it is. It's intense. You sweat. You're jumping the entire time and doing push-ups.
Me (to self): Holy Eff.
The convo did not go the way I'd hoped, and now I was petrified. I'm going to hurt myself, I thought, or I'm going to hurt someone else.
Before I knew it, the class started - fast. Very little warm up. The class was going by so quickly - including oodles of push-ups, jumping jacks, running in place, running in circles, crawling in circles - that I barely even had time to worry about what I was doing or if I was even doing it right. All I could do was ... do. I just kept moving and listening and moving again. It was very exciting and very sweaty.
No one was the "worst" in the class because everyone was trying and doing their best. Some people walked out, some stopped for a sip of water, but I got the feeling that everyone was just doing what they could do. It reminded me of something an old yoga teacher said to me once: Do your best. Not someone else's.
When the class was over, I actually felt like I had accomplished something. What exactly, I had no idea.
The next day, I couldn't feel my body from the waist down - and I did not have any desire to do another boxing class. I was completely sore, like lead-filled-legs sore. It didn't surprise me - the class was non-stop - but it did take days for my body to feel okay again ... just in time for my next boxing class.
The next day, I couldn't feel my body from the waist down - and I did not have any desire to do another boxing class. I was completely sore, like lead-filled-legs sore. It didn't surprise me - the class was non-stop - but it did take days for my body to feel okay again ... just in time for my next boxing class.
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