My girlfriend has this very gentle way of telling me to stop whining. She doesn't come right out and tell me I'm being a baby, she gives me the same advice I got in years of playing youth sports; "Walk it off". That phrase used to only carry meaning when I would get hit in the leg by a pitch or twisted an ankle going for a rebound because, ya know, it was in my LEG and therefor walking made it better (if it wasn't seriously injured, and it never was). Now Chelsey tells me to "walk it off" even when I have a headache, I want ice cream instead of a protein-filled meal or, in this case, my arms feel like they're going to fall off.
Monday (Day 6) was spent doing three-minute "rounds" of an exercise with a minute break in between, to simulate the time I will have in the ring. The first five rounds were spent kicking my soccer ball to learn how to kick humans. At one point I kicked and I felt a sharp shooting pain in my hip, my first bodily instinct was to fall (and possibly cry like a little girl, whatever) but instead I thought "walk it off" and I kept going through the end of the round. Turns out I'm OK (I can only assume, I'm not a doctor) even though it still hurts a little, but it sure hurts a lot less than it did when it first happened. The last six rounds were spent shadow boxing. When I felt like I couldn't even hold my arms up to block my face anymore, I kept telling myself to "walk it off" ... and even though that didn't totally work (sorry, babe) it did remind me that people I love will be watching me during this match and I certainly can't make a fool of myself, so I kept going.
Today (Tuesday, day 7) was spent with Barbara doing, what else, punching. Now when I woke up (way earlier than I wanted) I didn't have much life left in my arms or shoulders. I had a tough time even driving to the gym. When I got there and she said "OK gloves on, we're punching" I thought for sure they would detach from the rest of my body and die a slow painful death right there on the gym floor. They didn't, of course, but as I was pushing myself more and more and "walking it off" I felt a BURN like I've never felt before and unfortunately I only made it through four rounds. Barbara made sure to remind me that if I looked this way in the ring everyone I cared about would think I was an idiot. Very motivational. No, I'm not being sarcastic... seriously, I don't want to look like an idiot. So I walked it off, however at some point, my arms just quit on me. Literally. I told them to punch and they just like... were on strike or something. I said "punch" they said "bite me" and that was the end of that. I was disappointed in myself even though I know I didn't quit. I wanted to keep going but my body wasn't having it!
I stood there in the middle of the room feeling like I let her down, let myself down, wishing my body hadn't quit on me when she said, "I want you to go do 10 laps in the parking lot. Don't run, just walk, but keep up a good pace... walk it off". And I did.
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