August 11, 2017 - News Post

This week, after roughly a year of watching me celebrate my own inactivity, my wife finally dragged me to a gym. Apparently, the “skinny dude with a gut” look isn’t as fashionable as I thought.

I’ve been to gyms before. I’ve lifted weights, I’ve run on treadmills, but one thing I haven’t done, is punch a bag.

Somehow, of all the weird pop-up gyms in our area, we managed to go to one that emphasized punching, kicking, and squats. There was no punching of fellow humans, just lots and lots of bag abuse. This was a non-violent boxing gym.

If you know me, and you do know me, boxing isn’t my type of thing. I’m fairly fit, but I learned within 20 seconds of punching a bag that I would lose in a fight with a moderately aggressive 12-year-old. Still, with all safety precautions being followed, it was an interesting adventure. I made it through the entire workout without hurting myself or anyone else, which is all that I can ask.

The next day, I went out to lunch with friends (i.e. went by myself to a place where the people making sandwiches are forced to make polite conversation). I told them that I was sore from my recent trip to the boxing gym. Their reaction was the same as yours: “You don’t strike me as the boxing type.”

Jerks.

...Okay... observant jerks.

Honestly, it was a better workout than I expected. It’s good to escape my comfort zone every now and then. I’m not certain if I’ll continue down the boxing route, but I do plan on going back a few more times, even if I don’t love it.

You should try it. Try it now. Just don’t beat me up.

-Jeff