Well, as many of you know, I'm attempting to use my membership at my local fitness centre as a way to make friends in my new neighborhood. This past week, it may have gotten me in too deep!
I was at my Thursday dance/cardio/aerobics??? (I don't really know how to explain it) class. I started chatting with one of the girls my age and we talking about different classes we've done at the centre, which the good instructors are, etc. One benefit of our fitness centre is that we can also use other fitness centres in the borough. She mentioned that she was interested in trying a new class at another centre and asked if I would be interested in trying it with her. I responded with an enthusiastic "Yes!" and the only later thought to ask..."What's the class?" I should learn to ask before I agree. M responded by saying that it was called Boxfit. I figured that meant kickboxing. Well, that made me hesitate a bit, but I thought, "Hey, I'm here to get in shape and make friends, so why not?"
Then a few days later, I went online to book the class. As I selected the centre and checked the time, sure enough, there was a course called Boxfit, but it was a Level 2-3 class. I like to stick with the Level 1 (beginner!) classes, so I was thinking...."Hold on, now...This class is AN HOUR AND A HALF and it's a level 2-3 class?" I texted M and asked if she realized that it was a more advanced class. She responded by saying, yes, but when she called the gym, they said it was a lot of pair work and it was easy to a lower skill level than the other participants. When I heard that it was pair work, I didn't want to leave M in a lurch without a partner, so I figured, "Lord, give me strength" and I signed up for it.
So then, the evening came, and I checked my googlemap and decided to walk to the gym. Since it was a new location for me, I wasn't sure of the buses in the area, and it was fairly straightforward to walk.
I left my house, and after about fifteen minutes of walking realized that I had neglected to put my Oyster card in my pocket. I've never NEVER forgotten my Oyster card. Now I knew I would also be walking home.
I found the gym and checked in at reception, getting pointed at to the right studio for my class. M showed up shortly after me and we walked in.
Friends, it was not kickboxing. It was proper boxing. BOXING. I had to wear the smelliest germ infested boxing gloves imaginable. My hands reeked with the most incredible stench when I took them off. The instructor had such an East London accent that I almost couldn't understand his instructions. I mostly was paired with M, but for a segment of the time, I had to spar with fellows with names like Prince and Shaz. All very charming fellows, by the way. I don't think I challenged them to their full potential, considering their biceps rivaled my head for size, but they were very good and patient teachers.
After a grueling HOUR AND A HALF, I proceeded to walk home. Out of curiosity, when I got home, I decided to check googlemaps again and see just how far I had to walk. 1.8 miles. Then the class. Then 1.8 miles home.
Let's just say I slept well that night!
