If you need a reason to celebrate, well I'm still boxing like a fiend. I can't get enough of it. As you all know, I am infamous for not sticking to things. Such as my bitch n' stitch knitting spree, or my hip hop dance fest, cooking in the top restaurants phase. All of this is a blurry line towards my commitment.
Boxing has given me something to look towards to. Even when skipping rope has become as mundane as the mullet, it's mind over matter. Even when my knees are shot and my calves are stiff and tight, I take a deep breath and continue. Everyday differs and being able to exert the days frustrations is exulting.
Occasionally, I'll giggle in class, because I just want to bust out in some hip hop freak boombahlah moves. The boxing shuffle bob in, bob out, left hook, uppercut, straight, hook, triple jab, switch. It's a riot! Laughing is not condoned. It's a rough environment. It's a man's world. Laughter is frowned upon. Believe me, I've gotten in trouble for my usual chuckles. Unfortunately, I come with a million laughing gadgets so you see where my problems lie.
I'm content! Sure, I could step it up incorporate medicine balls and weights, but it's all good! Yoga, pilates, bar method, or personal trainer could never fulfill the satisfaction that I get from the theory of boxing.
Lesson: Young grasshopper must learn the way of the wind in order to find his way through grass.
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