An Essay on Kickboxing, Drug Dealers and Resting On the Sixth Day

by | Jan 31, 2012 | Health, Life | 2 comments

Well, I’ve been working hard to… well, feel better overall.

Aaaaaaand try, try, trying to reduce my warehouse-store-sized-muffin-top to more of a standard-sized-muffin-top.

Am I making sense?

I really am just a woman who sets reasonable goals. I will always have a muffin top. I’m OK with that.

Well, not really, but that’s what I tell myself.

I tell myself a lot of things.

But that’s an entirely different post.

Aaaaanywho. I’ve been taking this challenge for the last month. Which means I am counting calories and exercising more. But in the last week, specifically, I have set my mind to the kicking of my own butt.

I hear that is considered hawt in some cultures. And crazy in others. So.

stuff for working out

I have been going for the 500 calorie burn everyday for 7 days straight.

Like I said, I am a reasonable woman doing reasonable things.

And I was doing good… I went 5 days straight!

But on the 5th day I met kickbuttingboxing.

A “friend” (see :: below) had posted on The FB a few times about this kickboxing class and all of it’s calorie burning awesome. So I decided to take her up on the challenge.

I went.


::looks at Shayne::

Isn’t there something about crack dealers not smoking their own stuff?

I am a little naive when it comes to The Crack. Does one smoke it, shoot it or snort it?

I actually don’t care. Useless information.

I digress…

Kickboxing. And how my friend Shayne was being like a dealer and she wasn’t there to brave the pain/shoot up with me.



You want to know what I think? I think God would have rested on the SIXTH day instead of the SEVENTH if he had gone to a kickboxing class.

That class is why I did not burn 500 calories a day for 7 days straight.

Because on Day 5 I kickboxed with Castor and on Day 6 I passed-out rested.

Actually, I started resting THAT DAY. I was passed out COLD by 10 p.m. That is unheard of for nocturnal webmistresses such as me.

People, I could not stay upright!

Even sitting was too much of a request for my kickboxed-out body.

Then on Day 6? I NAPPED.


I was ALL up in the face of that nap.

Slobber. Limbs immovable.

I owned that nap in the same way a toddler owns a balloon animal. Don’t mess.

Mothers? You know that tired you feel the first few weeks after giving birth?


But I didn’t have to wear those mesh undies and do all sorts of “undercarriage” care.

So… Kickboxing 1 – Childbirth 0


Turns out, a different friend, Staci, was at the kickboxing class! We parallel kickboxed!

::looks at Shayne::

I neither kicked nor boxed my friend Staci.


Funny thing though… When I got/dragged myself home I had a note in my FB messages from that Staci saying,



And I think the lactic acid build-up had already reached my brain because I was all, “OK!”

::wild eyes::

::no, WILDER::

So on the 6th day I rested and on the 7th day I went to this “boot camp”.

At boot camp the guy forced us to do things… “worms” or “the worm” or as I call choose to call it, “the most unattractive thing to do in public ever”…

I also did more push-ups than I think is considered legal…


(I think I may be hooked)

See??? Just say no to drugs!

Wait. I didn’t do drugs.

Well, I know one thing for certain… I may be saying NO to stairs for the next few days.

Oh so much.

::ow ow::



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