The sweat was actually dripping off my nose and forming a
little pool of desperation on the hard, black dojo mat.
I could feel my lungs burning like a million tiny midgets
were inside them at a Metallica concert and waving theirs
lighters at the end of a blistering guitar solo.
I could tell I was pushing my body to its limit. Anytime I
am near my aerobic maximum my perception of the world
collapses. Everything becomes two dimensional. My eyes
lose the ability to see vivid colors, and my ears stop
sensing the space around me. All you can hear is your own
labored breathing, the rhythmic pounding of your own heart
and a screaming inner voice that is crying for you to stop
the insanity and find a donut shop!
I was at my third Aerobic Kickboxing Workout class at my
gym. I'm a recovering couch potato desperately searching
for a chance at redemption, or at least a smaller waistline.
My training partner looked to be a decade younger, and in
roughly the same horrible physical condition as me. He
was holding muay thai kickboxing pads around waist high. I
feebly kicked the pads 10 times with my right leg, then
switched to 10 with my even more pathetic left leg, then
I moaned through 10 knuckle push ups, then 10 hill climbers
then 10 jumping squats, then 10 burpees … burpees, good
old burpees. Then I dimly remember smiling as I thought
I was done … instead of switching places, the instructor,
Kru Evil, made me do it again … and again … and again.
Was this kickboxing workout the most difficult workout of
my life? Not sure … I can barely remember it. All I know
is I felt amazing at the end of class. Exhausted, drenched
but with a strange feeling of euphoria. I'll be back in
3 days to do it all again!