Eye of the Tiger

Today, at my first day of boxing class, I learned that this is a sport that hurts, even when you are not getting hit.

Actually, I don't get hit. In beginner class, you hits pads or bags or the air. I believe this is called "shadow boxing".

Remarkably, there are muscles in my body that after 25 years of life, have never been used. These are the ones that are screaming when I move, and that have burned for about ten hours.

So in my orientation group, made up of four people, I felt perplexed that I was the only one who had questions. And the only one who could not completely understand a right hook in thirty seconds. Or rapidly fire off random sequences of punches that are identified by numbers 1 through 4.

And the only one who was completely winded after forty minutes.

Fortunately I have a day, also known as my birthday, to recover before I have to go back.

As someone who has always despised physical activity, I feel compelled to succeed. Like, crazily driven to perfect a jab. Yes, someone who has never hit anything or anyone has spent all day thinking about how to maybe get some more speed behind her fist.

But I guess that if you want something, you work for it. And usually it hurts.