Wednesday, October 9, 2019

Punchy McPunch Face

One of the fun things about having sons is ending up with all kinds of gadgets and gear around the house that my sister and I never had as kids. We played wild west and had pocket knives, but our toys skewed pretty heavily to Barbie dolls, baby dolls, ballerina dolls...you get the picture. We didn't have superheroes or Nerf guns. Or a punching bag.

It's been a few years now, and I don't quite remember how the Everlast 60-pound punching bag came to be a permanent resident in my home. One of the boys probably suggested it sounded like fun, and my husband is always game for a trip to the sporting goods store. It got semi-regular use for a while, but with both boys in college, it now hangs in the basement of my empty nest, largely neglected.

Strapping on cartoonishly large red gloves and flailing away isn't something I'd be keen to do in public, but safely away from interested onlookers, I felt brave enough to give it a try. After the briefest of online tutorials, I was ready to give it ago. As long as I didn't hurt myself, I figured the rest didn't really matter. It's not like I was going for style points.

I started with 5 minutes the first day and added a minute each day after. At first, I was little stiff the next morning, but that didn't last very long. And it also didn't take long for me to learn that it's fun to punch something that doesn't punch back. It's great stress relief, is good for balance, and builds muscle and bone strength, all of which are important things at this point in my life.

Image result for rocky the squirrelIt goes without saying, but punching the heavy bag for a week didn't turn me into Rocky Balboa. It didn't even turn me into Rocky the Squirrel. My footwork is terrible, and my endurance has a ways to go. But it was surprisingly enjoyable, and that makes this week a Take It.






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