Kickboxing

I crawled out of bed on a Tuesday morning over Christmas Break at 5 am to accompany Sharbear to her 5:30 am kickboxing class. I have never boxed in my life, kick or otherwise. I felt EXTRA uncoordinated. That's another plus to running: the clumsiest person can do it with little ill effects. Nevertheless, I persevered through the class, pausing to gulp water only 3 times. 

Sharbear is member at a small gym, the class had maybe 9 participants (the time likely drives everyone away) and had your stereotypical bouncy, overly energetic blonde who no doubt was headed to pilates upon completion of the class, the front row mom who did the opposite of whichever side the instructor commanded, the lone middle-aged man who reminisced about his old boxing coach before class began, and the obnoxious girl to my left who sang along to every. single. song. Honey, you aren't kicking hard enough!

I really enjoyed the group aspect and the coach dynamic of the gathering. It felt vaguely like old cross-country practices. Running is blessedly solitary but A Very Lucky Girl finds it comforting to sweat it out with others once in a while.