I’m an advocate for change, yes…


BUT… not my ‘kicky fighty’ class! How dare they?

Some background. I’m by no means a gym junkie. In fact, generally-speaking, I loathe gyms, particularly the more pretentious varieties. Anyway, I do like to do ‘some’ exercise [I find long walks just as therapeutic or a good bash on a tennis court, etc.] but don’t really like the idea of being boxed in a room, pumping iron, etc… BUT, for some reason – motivation mainly – I got into ‘Tae Bo’ [aka Kicky Fighty, the coolest phrase, yes, coined by a mate in Dublin some years ago now] when I was, yes, living in a rainy city where the only exercise you get is of the elbow variety. And, I liked it. It mixes aerobic/cardio stuff w ‘girly punching’, and boxing kicks, etc… so not ‘real’ martial arts per se, but oodles of fun – felt ’empowering’, whilst as I said, not really gonna get you out of a sticky situation using self defence, etc… but just not completely ‘girly girly aerobic’ y’know? And so I didn’t feel like one of those ‘leotard-up-the-arse-wearing girly girly gym types’ either. Anyway, loved it, it suited me, and I could justify going the hideous place that is a gym w/o feeling like a wanker because of this.

I get back to Aus, and go through it all again, finding an unpretentious gym that offers ‘kicky fighty’. Man. There’s so many names for it now [Body Combat seemingly the most equivalent?! ] and so many pretentious/’lifestyle’ gyms. I finally found a place, which, despite being in one of Brisbane’s ‘hip and, in parts, pretentious’ innercity ‘burbs, and at the time, was ‘down the road’, so perfect. It was THE best Tae Bo I’ve ever experienced [you may laugh, but like a drug/sex, don’t knock it ’til you try it – truly elating!], the coolest instructor [hilarious woman], fitted my wk schedule perfectly and I went EVERY single week w/o fail. I didn’t got to the gym for anything else, had my kicky fighty once a week and was happy.

Next thing I’m pretty much living w my now ex-bf on ‘the other side of town’, and don’t find a nearby equivalent, and then moved in w the arsehole [ahem], so hadn’t been to the gym since, god, February?

[Obviously] having moved AGAIN, I couldn’t find a ‘worthy’ replacement gym, so decided, bugger it, I’ll go back to the trusty fave, it’s kinda on the way home, it’s cheap, unpretentious, has the best class/instructor – all good.

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Or so I thought. Firstly, my first attempt to get the motivation back was hilarious in that, in my excitement and haste, I, er, packed two different pairs of shoes… and didn’t notice ’til I was in the change room. Oops. Okay, so Take 2, Tuesday night. ‘Sensibly’ [and cos I’m early] I warm up on the bikes, do some stretches, etc… My instructor arrives and says, ‘oh my god where’ve you been? Are you still in love?’ Oh my, do I have a story to tell! She then says, ‘and, god you’ve lost weight?’ A rather odd thing for a gym instructor to say to someone who’s done nothing but wallow and comfort eat for the last month! Still, I guess I had lost a g’zillion kgs in my previous month of woe for all the wrong reasons – none of which had anything to do w a fitness regime! So we get chatting and she tells me, she’s 4 months’ pregnant [wha’? Not an ounce of fat on her, let alone a small child within!] so she’s toned down the classes and is only doing every second week, AND, the class itself has been modified.

Oh no, what am I hearing? This is not good. She explains what the class is like and I’m devastated. It’s more like a circuit than kickyfighty/cardio. Eek. We warm up [again] on the bikes, we run, we skip, we do step-ups, we go to ‘the machines’ [see, that’s another thing, I don’t wanna sit around looking at my muscles in the mirrors, I must be an ‘organic exerciser’] for a ‘brief’ circuit, I’m completely uninspired [therefore not the most effective workout], but give it ‘some’ cos, well, I may as well… This is NO kicky fighty and not a bit motivating. Mind you, when we switch during the circuit [as yer do!] and I get to the punching bag [again, I’d rather ‘punch air to silly music’], oh my, do I vent! So much so that she comments, ‘oh I can see why you like that one? I can’t imagine WHO you’re thinking of when you’re punching that bag?’ Still, it’s just not kicky fighty.

As I said, I’m all for change, variety being the spice of life an’ all, but kicky fighty was my ‘thing’ y’know. It actually made me look forward to going to the gym and ‘venting’ and laughing and havin’ a ball. What to do?

Flabby Ging w reasonably sore arms this morning however! ha!