Aw, this is my last update from this particular reference desk you folks will ever get! It is completely dead here, because exams are over and it’s the long Easter weekend. Let us hope I get even one question. But the memories! The memories of all my lovely questions! Oh, such cherishing.
I have had some good times in kickboxing this week, let me tell you. I got kicked in the face! It was a complete accident on Rosie’s part, of course, just a matter of missing the pad and hitting my jaw, but it was a hard kick and everything. It was during drills, not sparring, so it’s not like I messed up by not dodging or blocking. I was supposed to be in the kick’s way, just a foot and a half lower. Anyway, I am totally stoked over this. Kicked in the face = officially hardcore. Poor Rosie kept apologizing, because what else can you do after you kick someone in the face? I would feel completely horrible if I did that. But I got kicked, so I’m just aces. Anyway, my reaction immediately after the kick was strange. About five seconds of being completely fine, followed by thirty seconds of freaked-out pain, followed by being completely fine again. I think in a fight, I’d hit back during those immediate “completely fine” five seconds, and the adrenaline would carry me through the painful part. I know this is probably common knowledge, but it’s the first time it’s happened to me, so I’m all intrigued.
On Friday, we did a whole bunch of kicking. I don’t know if you know this about me, but I have a simple dream. That dream is to one day become Anderson Silva. (IN CASE IT’S NOT CLEAR, SILVA IS THE ONE WHO WINS THE FIGHT. THAT’S THE ONE I WANT TO BE.) As such, face-kicking practice on Friday was a crucial part of that goal. I mean, getting kicked in the face is badass, sure, but at a certain point I would like to win fights in very cool ways.
Bootcamp on Saturday morning! We did some insane thing called plyometrics. Wikipedia with it’s fancified letter-words doesn’t get across what plyometrics is, which is jumping. Jumping a lot, in strange, inhuman ways, while being assured that anyone can do anything for thirty seconds. A really hard one, but probably my favourite for the “fun factor”, are called rock stars (found as the first workout of this video). Seriously, you pretend to be a rock star, jumping as high as you can while whaling on your guitar. The arm motion is completely superfluous, it’s just good goddamned fun, because if you’re already jumping that high, then you might as well air guitar.
Went home for Easter dinner and had Easter dinner times. It was also part birthday dinner because my birthday is next week. Whoo! I got Easter chocolate and birthday chocolate. Pretty much the best day ever. I also got cool new sneakers, because working-out people are supposed to get new sneakers every six months and I’ve had mine for almost a year. And they were falling apart, too, so I guess it’s true. Anyway, mine are awesome and black and comfy and you guys, I have a confession, every time I get new shoes I imagine myself fighting crime in them. Cool black sneakers are sort of ideal, and big boots, but it gets a little ridiculous with, say, sandals or high heels. I started this habit pre-kickboxing, too, so we can’t even blame that.