Kickboxing kicked butt last night. I could roundhouse til the cows come home! I looked in the mirrors as someone was clobbering me and realised with alarm that my right thigh (saddlebag, more like) is wider than the left. Gareth verified this later on, and he’s a cool and calculating engineer-type so it’s not body dysmophia on my part. I guess that’s the legacy of 2.5 years of knee injury. Ha!
But the knee is doing pretty well. I still have to modify moves – jump kicks are impossible and knee push-ups still hurt, so I do step kicks and one-knee push ups! It also behaved at Spinning on Saturday. For the first time in so very long, the jumping-out-of-the-saddle bits didn’t hurt. The instructor was bloody brilliant – there were only three of us in the class so there was nowhere to hide and she reduced me to a beetrooty pulp. I think it might have been RPM actually, I recognised some of the songs from my old gym. Whatever it was, it was bloody hard work and a smug start to Saturday!
. . .
The Postcard from New York arrived the other day and I’m bewildered by my nauseating cheerfulness. What was in the air over there? I must have been high on bagels.
But still, during this crazy busy wacky week its a very soothing thing to read. I think I will send myself reminder postcards more often. Buy toothpaste. Don’t forget to go to work. Be more brave. Get to bed earlier.
What would you write to you, today?