I went to a boxing class today. I was absolutely terrified! A friend had invited me to go with her and I'd rashly said yes. I did spend the majority of the day worrying and fretting about it. I was feeling very very shy and gave myself a bit of a nervy bellyache. And I had been thinking along the lines of boxercise, kind of aerobicsish with a bunch of girls. I was wrong. It was time to go and my friend hadn't appeared and I was pretty sure this meant I could go for a jog instead. But I rocked up to the class and found it full of some pretty tough customers. Eeek! The teacher was as wide as he was tall. He told me if I borrowed a pair of gloves I'd get hep c. Great. Going well so far. So I got a pair of gloves to wear inside them - kind of like the gloves an archivist or rare books librarian would wear. (At this stage I'm clutching at straws to make me feel more in my comfort zone!) I got a pink pair of gloves (this was also quite pleasing!) The class began and I've never hated anything so much in my life. I thought I was going to die. But my friend turned up and we tried to hit each other for a bit. Man, for a shy quiet type she's an absolute belter. I'm beginning to suspect I have no inner demons. Imagine Doris Day in boxing gloves and that's me. But my, what a work out. I hated it but it was rather good. And though I can't move my arms at the moment I'll be back next week!
-Kirk Douglas looking evil. I do not look like this.