Kick, Punch, Right Hook, Left

So far today has been a productive day. I don’t have too many of those on my days off, so when they come, it is cause for a celebration…once all the work is accomplished of course. As you can see, I updated the blog today. I felt some new pictures were needed – A little light to help us get through the long, harsh winter still ahead.

I also got my booty to the gym this morning and attended a cardio kickboxing class. I run five miles three times a week (during a good week), and I kept telling myself “This will be a piece of cake.” As I was stretching my ligaments with fifteen other girls (I’m pretty sure five of them were the models in the high-end designer ads in last month’s Vogue), in walked our instructor. The first thing I noticed was a large bump protruding from her stomach. A pregnant woman is going to be teaching me kickboxing? I thought I joined a New York City gym. I was a tad disappointed some size 0 Barbie doll with rock hard abs wasn’t standing in front of me. Oh well, I would see how it went.

Five minutes later, this self-proclaimed “in shape” blogger, was wheezing, panting and cursing the day she ever had one shred of doubt for the prego instructor. How the hell was she able to kick so high…and all those punches had to be disrupting her fetus. I felt as if her eyes were on me the entire time. I was clearly the newbie of the group, kicking when others were blocking (bringing your knee up to your chest) and punching when others were giving a right hook. At one point she told the group to get water if needed and I swear she was directing this order only to me. I took a quick gulp of my water bottle and kept mustering through. It was the hardest 55-minute class I have ever participated in. I hated Alison (the instructor with child), the female martial arts expert with the black spandex standing to my left and ALL of the songs that refused to end throughout the class. It was an embarrassing experience to say the least, but the competitor inside of me will not be defeated. I will be back next week to prove to these Upper West Side workout fiends that I belong. I don’t care if I die in the process. I felt great afterwards, and if I keep this class up, those extra pounds keeping me warm this winter are going to melt off just in time for spring.