kick this

I took my first Kickboxing class tonight.

How'd it go, you may wonder?

Let me tell you. Using. One. Word. TOUGH!!

My muscles are already tired from yesterday's Power Pump class (weight training for wimps trying not to be wimps anymore); I'm over the major aches of such a class, but the poor little fibers in my muscles take a beating each time I life that darn dumb bell.

But, oh, no, that's not enough for this wimp-turn-meathead (not really). I had to go ahead and challenge myself more and take the one hour long kickboxing class, something I've never done.

It was fun at first-my flexibility helps in such exercise-but then the instructor went all psycho kickboxing fanatic on me and assumed we all knew what exactly she was doing. I was sweating all right and I'm pretty sure I kicked some guy standing next to me, but overall I had an enjoyable time...as far as enjoyment and working out are concerned.

I came home, sat down to eat dinner, watched American Idol (sniff, sniff, Ace is gone), and got up again to make lunches and clean the kitchen. I'm stiffer than a board, my elbows are tender from hitting the stand so fricken hard, and my toes hurt (even though they really shouldn't).

I can't get the routine out of my head: jab, jab, cross, jab, hook, hook, elbow, hook, knee, knee, barrel kick, kick, kick, kick, hop, kick, jumping jack.

It wears me out just typing it.

I'm off to bed with 800mg Ibeprophun and a heating pad.