Charlie and I went to kickboxing last night. I had gotten her a LivingSocial voucher for her birthday for a month of unlimited kickboxing.
When I got home last night she was laying on the couch.
“What’s wrong, honey?”
“Nothing, hon, my arm hurts.”
She’s had about a thousand shots since she’s gotten here for working in the hospital and now going to school. Yesterday, was the first round of hep shots.
“You’ll feel better once we starting moving around. Let’s go get ready.”
We had both agreed that after Super Bowl that we were going to eat better and cut back on the beer. I was ready. In fact, I’ve been looking at my bicycle with longing. I had this huge fantasy of working downtown and riding to the train every morning, of riding to the boxing gym (I think we’d have to work up to riding all the way down there and back plus a boxing workout).
“Where is this place?”
“It’s over in Fourth Ward.”
“You’ll remember once we get down there.”
Like me, she remembers places not names.
Once we found the gym we pulled around back, parked and walked around to the front and went inside. We handed the lady behind the counter our coupons and two men immediately appeared and introduced themselves while they wrapped our knuckles in vein of Rocky Balboa. We followed them down a stairway to the gym below. The minute I stepped off the bottom step I was hit with the smell of sweat. Gym smell. There were punching bags everywhere and a boxing ring in the back. Along one side was an ongoing bootcamp class. On the other side was a full weight gym.
After our tour we pulled off our sweatpants and shoes and chose a bag. Pretty soon we were jumping up and down doing warm-ups. My calves started to immediately hurt. I needed to stretch better next time. Soon we were huffing and puffing and hitting the bag in between push-ups and sit-ups. At one point Charlie puffed out, “What set are you on?”
“I don’t know – I kind of went somewhere in my mind.” like to the pizza place down the street….
We were both dripping sweat by the time we were finished. We gathered our stuff and slipped on our sweatpants. The back of my shirt was soaked. As we started up the stairs we both groaned because our calves.
“That was great!” Her arm pain forgotten.
“It was! I hadn’t done that in a long time.”
“Let’s go find a smoothie place.”
As we drove up the road we talked about the kinds of smoothies we liked.
“I used to get a two piece bikini.”
This cracked me up for some reason, “Don’t all bikini’s come in two pieces and does it come with liposuction?”
“Ha-ha funny, funny!”
I was still laughing. We found the smoothie place and got back into the car sipping protein shakes.
“I hope The Following doesn’t start until 9.”
“It doesn’t. We have plenty of time to take a bath and wash our hair.”
“Wash our hair?”
“Yes, I’m not letting you anywhere near the bed until every bit of bacteria is scrubbed off of you.”
“Yeah, after awhile I couldn’t even stand the smell of myself in there.”
“I know and I kept stepping in a sweaty place on the mat when we were doing kicks like “Squish, squish, squish….”
“I know, me too – disgusting.”
“I think I’m going to wear socks next time.”
“I have a pair of shoes I’m thinking of wearing and a hat so my hair won’t go in my eyes.”
“Want to go back Wednesday?”
“Yes, let’s go.”
Tonight, we’re joining the group run/jog/walk that meets at the local running store.