Kickboxing and pizza.

OKay, so I went to the gym last night. Thats three times in three weeks! Ugh. Better than the 2mo sabbatical I took during the holidays, right?

I really wanted to do this kickboxing class, but I got there early so I went on the bike for about 15min just to kinda warm things up. Got in the class, there's no punching bags or anything (lame). But, it is a cardio kickboxing, so what the hell.

Holy jesus, I only made it through like 20 min for the 60 min class. My feet were cramping up like NO OTHER, and I wanted to die. I was sweating (melting to the floor). I liked it, it was fun, and I felt like a strong, powerful woman...until I looked at myself in the mirror. The instructor was screaming "kick off that shake!" which really makes no sense to me, since anyone in their right ind knows that the fat isn't going to disappear from working a certain area.

I mean, okay, I liked it. But I don't know what was going on. They're newer shoes, they've been broken in, but I dunno. Maybe I need to run or jog around the building first. I punished myself for sitting in the sauna for like 20 min.

Then I came home and had a big plate of broccoli, followed by three slices of pizza. Nice.

This whole one-day a week thing at the gym is obviously not working for me. Duh. So I'm going to try and go tonight after work. No no no, I AM going to go tonight after work. "Never try, just do" type deal, right?