KICKBOXING 102

Ow.  My ass muscles hurt.

My daughter convinces me to again try the kickboxing class near her house.  Tonight the cardio is mainly line drills led by the jiu-jitsu sensei, and it's tough stuff.  I keep expecting my old judo coach to materialize and start yelling at me, maybe even kicking my ass (literally -- he would kick us in the ass sometimes if we were screwing up).  I wimp out of a couple of drills, as does my daughter -- we're still the newbies, and this is only Day #2.  We're not the only ones sucking wind, either.

By the time we get to punch things, we're pumped.  My daughter's punches are getting more solid, stronger, with more force behind them.  Everyone is incredibly kind to us and very patient.  It's hard not to come back because, even though we're getting our butts royally kicked, everyone is so incredibly nice. Seriously nice. So nice that even after we've been beaten to nearly senseless limits, we still can't wait to come back.


It might take us a while to get there.  You see, my daughter's legs hurt, my shoulders and neck are a little tender, and both of us desperately need showers lest someone sniffs us and thinks we just wandered out from three weeks in the forest rolling around in animal feces. 

But, I'm not going to lie.  It's a thirty-

minute drive from the tatami to my driveway.  When I arrive and try to get out of the car, my legs are tight and my feet are begging to know what torture lies ahead should this continue.  Worst of all, my ass muscles hurt.

And to think that we pay money to have someone kick our asses.