I hit someone yesterday. Lots of times. With my fists. He asked me to. Insisted, in fact.
Oh, hey, background: I’ve been going to the M/W/F boxing class since that first time I went in early August. I like it. A lot. But that’s not where I hit the guy. I mean, yes, it was in a boxing class, but not that one (because yesterday was Tuesday, not Monday, Wednesday, or Friday). John and I both go to the M/W/F class, with this one instructor (Nick), and a fairly stable group of regulars. John has been going to the T/Th class with a different instructor (Doug), and for a few months now, he’s been the only person there. (The class is at 5:30am, it’s at the other location, not everyone likes Doug’s teaching style…) John has basically been training one-on-one with Doug twice a week, and he really enjoys it (now that he’s convinced Doug that he really doesn’t want anything to do with kickboxing).
Too much background? I like to explain things.
John has told me a lot about Doug, a lot about how his class is very different from Nick’s, and he’s invited me to go along many times, but I didn’t feel ready. I feel more comfortable now that I have some basics down (kind of), so I decided Tuesday was the day (since Tuesday was Veteran’s Day and I didn’t have to go to work). The first thing Doug did once it was my turn on the mat (John and I traded rounds with Doug on the mat, and then in the ring) was stick out his chin and tell me to hit him. My first jab was somewhat tentative. “No, HIT me.” So I did. Right in the mouth. Doug: “There. That’s what it feels like.” Then he put his hands up, and he let me hit him, sometimes blocking, sometimes not. I think he was trying to get me recognize openings and also stop dropping my right hand (’cause then he’d tap me on right side of my head). Early on, I hit him with a left hook to the ear, HARD, said, “OH, I’m sorry,” and he said not to worry about it. That I can’t hit him hard enough to hurt him. I know I’m new at this, but he says the same thing to John, who has a powerful arm. And seriously, guys, I landed that one. ON HIS EAR. And he didn’t even blink. His head must be stone. After that, I got over my fear of hitting him and took him at his word that I couldn’t hurt him. You want me to hit you? I’ll hit you. I’ll try, anyway.
So that was fun. I’ll go back. I just don’t know if I can take boxing five days a week. Plus, if I’m boxing every morning, when will I run? John hasn’t been running at all, and he’s missing it. We’ll have to figure this out.