Title Boxing

About a week ago, there was a Town Wild deal advertised on Facebook that gave you four weeks of unlimited Title Boxing Club classes, gloves and wraps for $40.  Ten dollars a week?  I can manage that.

So, last Wednesday, I took my coupon and headed over to the Cedar Rapids Title Boxing Club for a 4:00 PM class.  I got the preclass tour and then watched the people come in to work out.  Four o'clock rolls around and our instructor says to lightly jog around the room for three minutes.  Three minutes?  No problem.  I took the advice of the gal who said if I'm not a regular jogger to run around the inside of the bags or people have trouble passing.  Well, coming from the fat girl who hasn't worked out consistently in 18+ months, the inside it is!  First lap, good...no problem...I got this.  Keep jogging...or maybe it was more of a shuffle.  Heart rate's coming up, sweat's starting...it's all good...I'm doing this.  Instructor yells out that we have two minutes left.  What?  It's only been a minute?  I keep going around the bags like a mouse in a ball....sweat's a dripping, heart's a racing, my legs hurt, my lungs hurt, and all the while, I see these fitter people not breaking a sweat, swiftly running around the outside.  Instructor yells out there's one minute left.  One minute?  I want to die.  Seriously.  Kill me now.  My feet hurt, I'm more speed walking than jogging.  That was the longest minute of my life.  We then go on to do some stretches.  Feels good.

Then....jumping jacks.  Now, let me tell you something.  If you weigh 150 pounds and have a small chest, jumping jacks are nothing.  But when you're 255 pounds with a stomach and enlarged chest (I think my weight went there this time, too...), it's not pretty.  There are things flapping that shouldn't be.  But I did it.  The rest of the first 15 minutes are random exercises and stretches to get our heart rates up. Then it starts.

The next 30 minutes are eight three-minute rounds of boxing/kickboxing.  Jabs.  Crosses.  Hooks.  Uppercuts.  Back fists.  Round house kicks.  Front kicks.  Knee kicks.  Ouch.  After three minutes, you get one minute of active rest.  That's an oxymoron.  Mountain climbers, burpies, push ups, jumping jacks, high knees.  Active rest, my ass.

After dying for 30 minutes and just when you think you're done, it's 15 minutes of abs.  And there is no mercy here.  I have zero ab strength, so I try to modify if possible.

I've completed four workouts.  I'm tired.  I'm sore.  I'm exhausted.  But I'm moving.  I guess that's what I get from going to nothing to hardcore.  I need to quit weighing myself because I have this mentality that now that I'm working out, the weight will just magically fall off.  I haven't really modified my eating yet.  I'm focused on moving.

So, that's where I'm at.  This will bring us up to our vacation....Vegas, baby!  We're going because it's cheap and we need a break from life.  Hoping my weight is back in the 240s by Vegas.  That's five pounds in four weeks.  Sure should be able to do that!