Well, my boxing workout have come to a head. Literally! I paired off with a female yesterday, who is experienced, to practice our usual combinations. Well, what can I say except that she came in with solid hooks to my dome about half a dozen times. I was furnished with no head gear and no warning. Just hard hooks to jiggle my cerebrum.
Today, I'm a bit fuzzy in the head and my vision is a bit funny. The last time I had a concussion was when Nolan, my brother, put me in a sleeper hold in highschool, by accident. As he had his left arm around my neck and his right behind my head, he walked me through the concept. As he released my arms, my body flopped to the floor and my head with it. I could hear the raucous as mom screamed and scolded him. I could hear everything even as mom ran to get the phone to dial the ambulance, but my body was useless. The ambulance arrived and awoke me with smelling salt.
Anywho, that familiar feeling is presently on me. The dazed and dream like state is up and about deafening any stamina.
I was fine last night. It was this morning that it caught up with me. At first, I was hoping that I was dreaming. Nope. My mom would whap me right now for being so negligent. She's been dissuading me from boxing, since I told her about it. She's right I am too old, but it's so fun and such a better workout than yoga. I just need to rethink things, like not get hit in the head the next time. Ugh. What a dork. Anyway, hopefully my brain will recover from this stupidity and I can get back to normal. I'm not ready to retire to my rocking chair just yet. Smile.
Lesson: A forgetful Grasshopper should remember that you have many opportunities to play, but only one brain.
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