Sunday, February 17, 2013

Getting a Kick out of Valentine's Day

You might think that because Shira and I skipped the romantic dinner and box of chocolates this year, that we didn't celebrate Valentine's Day. You'd be quite wrong. This year Shira truly kicked it up a notch by arranging our attendance at a V-day couples Kick Boxing class offered by the Northern Virginia MMA studio she attends. The idea was to give significant others such as myself a view into the training that the ladies do on a regular basis.

This is only slightly problematic for a few reasons: (1) I'm not in shape for this kind of work out (take me on a 5 mile run, no problem. Make me do 10 push-ups, and you've got a big problem, and (2) my coping mechanism for dealing with stressful situations is to talk, and there's a strict (yet unwritten) no-talking rule during workouts.

Still, for the sake of love, we decided to go ahead with this little adventure.

I got to the gym and Shira wrapped my hands. I tried as best I could, but I couldn't resist one crack about the wrapping feeling oddly similar to my Thursday morning Tiffilin ritual. See:

The work out got started, and the I found myself actually enjoying the warm-up. A little light jogging around the gym, a couple of burpees, maybe this wasn't going to be so bad. I was even keeping my mouth shut.

After about 20 minutes of the hour long class I was spent. I mean done. I didn't have a single burpee, push-up or or high knee left in me. There were 3 other couples in the class, and I was clearly the only guy struggling. I would have felt bad if I had any energy left in me to feel anything.

Somehow I managed to make it through the entire class. For a few moments in there I thought, you know, this is probably what it feels like just before one passes out. But I didn't pass out. Instead, I just lost my dignity, and got a blister on each foot (apparently I was failing to pivot on the kicks. Yeah, pivoting was the least of my problems). And in a strange way, masochistic way, had fun. For the record, I did chit-chat with the instructor and Shira a little bit (I had to!), and the class didn't fall apart.

The gym had each of the ladies present their man with a rose and we posed for some pictures. I left sore, and with additional respect for the workouts Shira endures. Maybe I'll be ready to do this again next Valentines day, but certainly not a day before that.

Maybe next year we can just do the candle lit dinner thing? I know, where's the fun in that.

I love you babe, thanks for a Valentine's Day I won't ever forget.

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