April 21, 2011

Until last night I don’t think I’d ever punched anything or anyone. Childhood sibling scraps usually involved weapons other than fists – a rolled up Green Guide, palm of the hand for slapping, fingers for clawing, maybe the occasional fart. But not punching. I’ve always been intrigued about what it feels like.

Last night I tagged along to a bona fide boxing gym where the walls hung with punching bags and some of the patrons had flattened nose bridges. I got gloves. I got bouncy. But most importantly, I got punchy. It was good fun and bloody hard work. I have no natural agility, light-footedness or coordination yet no one laughed at me.

Oh. And the PA played ‘Eye of the Tiger’ at one point. Really. That was cool.



  1. I assume you did this for exercise, rather than as an outlet for violent urges?

    Not sure about boxing, but I’d like to see some of your other childhood defences worked into gym routines – I think I could get into fartercise or slapperobics.

  2. Whoah! You boxed? While Eye of the Tiger was playing?!? I think it must be obligatory in the bylaws of every boxing facility/organization/what have you to play that song everyday. Sort of a morning prayer or something.

    So, didja bruise anybody?

    • Az – nah, but two days later I feel like I’VE been beaten up!

  3. If you enjoyed boxing… kickboxing is also hugely fun, and you get to kick things as well as punch them. And elbow them. And knee them. Seriously, it’s fun.

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