In Training

by Marinka on November 8, 2013

On Sunday morning I woke up and realized that I had completely forgotten to run the NYC Marathon. This is like the 46th year in a row, a real streak.

“How much does the winner get?” my son asked and I made up some number, and now he’s training for the one in six years, when he’ll be 18. So far the training consists of deciding how he’s going to spend his prize money, but I think that’s an important first step.

Later that day we went to the Y. He wanted to shoot some hoops, cross-training, I believe it’s called in the lunatic fringe community, and I sat around and studied the YMCA catalog of offerings. If my son is going to be an elite athlete, I thought, shouldn’t I take a stab at something myself?

I quickly dismissed water aerobics (too wet!) and ballet (too Black Swan!) but when I saw Boxing class, I was sold. Because who doesn’t want to be the Million Dollar Baby? That’s a lot of money! (I didn’t see the movie, so no spoilers please!)

My first class was this week. In many ways, it was great. One of the ways that it was great is that I got to tell everyone that I’d soon be taking boxing classes and would probably be away a lot this summer because of the whole Olympics thing. Another way that it was great is that Wendi suggested that I should probably get satin shorts and there is no way that that’s not happening.

The ways in which the boxing class was not great was that I almost died while jumping rope and not just because I fashioned it into a noose and also because in the many jabs I had to throw? deliver? one of them went into my own head. I could tell the coach was really impressed.

Also I made two potential pre-friends. One was a woman who apparently “drew the short straw” (whatever that means) and was therefore paired up with me and another guy who kept looking over at me and laughing. I’m guessing because he reads my blog and was remembering some of my wittier posts. Who knows.

I was sore during the class. I was achy the next day. Two days later I was considering a hip replacement.

But now that three days have passed, I can’t wait to go back.

If you need me, I’ll be floating like a butterfly, stinging like a bee.

One year ago ...

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{ 9 comments… read them below or add one }

Susan Weinstein November 8, 2013 at 1:09 pm

Don’t want to meet you in a dark alley! Seriously, I imagine these moves will inspire more respect on the home front. Don’t want to put out the silver ware? (Jab Feint) take that! Over to the dishwasher now!


Slow Panic
November 8, 2013 at 1:57 pm

Satin shorts and jump ropes. There’s really no way you can miss with that combination.


barbara sigelbaum
November 8, 2013 at 2:13 pm

That’s a jab ass thing to do. (like kick ass but more appropriate)


Jannie November 8, 2013 at 2:44 pm

Wait – throwing/delivering jabs WHILE jumproping? I see a spot on America’s Got Talent in your future. Wear those satin shorts and you’ll have the judges mesmerized!


awesome dude November 8, 2013 at 4:23 pm

Isaak was a light weight boxer in his young years.


November 8, 2013 at 7:06 pm

What I wouldn’t pay to see you box in satin shorts. Please make us a video.


Gdot November 8, 2013 at 8:27 pm

You’ll need a satin shorty robe too
with a cool name embroidered on the back
“JABba the hut” , “boxers or briefs ”
or “raging hormones”?


Tinne from Tantrums and Tomatoes November 9, 2013 at 5:24 am

You forgot to run the marathon too huh… I don’t know why this keeps happening to me each year…


Mama bird diaries
November 9, 2013 at 9:38 am

I just started a boot camp class and I’ve been trying to jump rope. Why is it so difficult?! Maybe I need satin shorts.


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