Are there specific clothes you are supposed to wear for kickboxing? Some of the women in my class wore those little sporty shorts. I don't think this is a good idea for me. As it was, I wore a pair of cropped yoga pants and a sleeveless Patagonia top I dug out of my old t-shirt drawer. I figured the top would breathe, even when I couldn't.
Problem was, the yoga pants were a recentish purchase, while the top was not. In short, there was a coverage problem. While pants have had lower waistbands for a few years now, it took shirts awhile to catch up. And of all things I'd like to flash in an exercise class, it's not my belly. So I untied and retied my pants so they covered more but that gave me a wedgie, which was probably worse.
I quickly forgot about my fashion difficulties because Real Difficulties set in before I knew what hit me. Let's see, there was running in place, and jumping jacks, and lunging, and punching and running backwards. And I looked at the clock thinking, surely this must be over soon, and it had been seven minutes. I prayed for a 25 minute cool down.
At the end we did a 10 jumping jacks, 8 push-ups, 10 crunches, run in place sequence (repeat until dead). After ten jumping jacks I can't get down to the floor and back on my feet to the count of eight, much less do push-ups while I'm there. I got the giggles. Everything hurt, I was practically wheezing and I vaguely remember being more comfortable when I was in labor.
I ran into the teacher later. She said we did great - we kept going. Was stopping an option? Because no one told me stopping was an option. It's probably best I didn't know this.
And because I haven't talked about my hair lately, I'd like to say that it performed brilliantly. It's good to have over-colored sort-of curly hair in kickboxing. Because no matter how on the verge of death you are, it's up there being sort of bouncy and acting like nothing in the world is wrong. Nothing, oh no nothing, could be farther from the truth. And if Chris was worried that having a kickboxing wife would be detrimental to his health, he needn't worry about a thing. Except making sure my Epsom salt bath is the right temperature. And possibly being awakened by a maniac, screaming about cramping calves.
And yet I can't wait for the next class.