This is me flat out after each cardio-boxing class where about 150 push-ups and 1000 punches are grunted through and thrown, along with some crazy amount of kicks, squats and jumps. Then I do it all over again the next week. Madness.
My first class ended with me utterly winded. I was shell-shocked by how much effort goes into burning something like 700 calories in 45 minutes. It took me six weeks to catch up with the rest of the class. It's never a competition, but I don't want to struggle in class. Yet I don't want to go to all out because I want to stay injury-free and not stress the heart and drop dead. I do stop for water breaks and in a friendly gym environment, no one will pressure anyone to continue. Still I refuse to do push-ups on my knees. It's not about pride. If I want to get stronger, I will do push-ups exactly how they're meant to be done.
I'm not hot about cardio, but it has to be included in the week. I've learnt to embrace the utter SWEATFEST that sees beads of perspiration running down my eyelids, into my eyes or dripping off my chin. At least I've found enjoyable classes to sweat it out at. I dislike running, so that's not a preferred option unless the friends obstinately drag me out shrieking and kicking.
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