When it hurts to sneeze.

This kickboxing circuit class.  It’s going to kick ass.  I know this every time I sneeze, cough, or burp because all those muscles that are apparently used to do these simple bodily functions scream in pain every.single.time.

It’s been two days since my test run, with my only intention to see if the combinations flowed smoothly and, most importantly, to make sure the intervals app I downloaded on my iPhone worked without crashing.  I’ve realized through the years of teaching that anything related to technology can go wrong at any time, so the latter will require some crossing of fingers and a back up in the form of my old school iPod Classic, which has it’s own story of death and resurrection that I will save for another blog entry.

At least now I know what sorts of pain the participants might be feeling a week from today, and hopefully it’s the type of pain that will keep them coming back for more.  Not that I have a no-pain-no-gain mantra by any means, but at this particular gym I know the members have been seeking a class that isn’t Zumba or anything related to music and choreography.  It’s bare bones, simple, but intense, which will add some nice variety to the evening schedule.  Followed by CXWorx, a 30-minute core conditioning class, we will all have awesome core muscles in a few weeks’ time.  Honestly, can it get any better?

Well, I can answer that more honestly in a couple more days after I get a much needed massage from the hubby and the soreness subsides.  Until then, all those muscles.  They seriously hate me right now.

Circus, I mean, Circuits

Next week I’ll be adding a kickboxing circuit class to my schedule.  It would be nice to say that I’ll be a participant this time around, but let’s face it, I never seem to have the time (or the motivation) to head to the gym to do my own thing, unless it’s squeezing in a few miles on the dreadmill for marathon training.  And even then I feel like I’m sometimes doing it under duress, like if I don’t adhere to the training schedule then I will be doomed in 15 weeks so it has to be done, no matter how miserable it feels.

I have to blame the mind tricks.  The first couple of miles are awkward and slow, and I ask myself why I can’t just skip today and do this tomorrow.  Then in the last one-tenth of a mile I’m in a euphoric state because it’s another few miles in the books and my runner’s high suddenly outshines my old, lazy, unmotivated self.  Yes, I must do this again and it will feel awesome, it really will!

Which leads me to the question, once again:  How did I get myself into this?

Oh that’s right.  It was winter.  Training through the summer in preparation for a fall race sounded like a great idea at the time.  Most days it still sounds like a great idea because it does the body good to do something different every so often.  But some days I am so tired.  The knees hurt more this year than last year and the previous years.  I’m getting old.

Or maybe I just need to stop teaching so many classes.

Which leads me to another question:  How did I end up teaching a kickboxing circuit class?

Simply because I really wanted to teach CXWorx, a core conditioning class, right after it.  Currently I only teach it during the summer and it was my chance to teach it on a regular basis.  It’s only 30 minutes long, but does a phenomenal job with functional core strength, which is needed for every day things such as picking up children, gardening, lugging groceries up two flights of stairs, and of course, teaching one too many group fitness classes and marathon training.

But before I start to convince myself that I’m not a kickboxing anything, I must be reminded that it was my first group fitness class many, many years ago, when I was too scared to join a gym and a girlfriend decided during her bachelorette party that she would like all of us to attend a class as part of the festivities.  It became part of my workout even after I started teaching classes, though I never personally taught it.  I know the technical basics, which is all I need to see how this class fares the first time around.

If there is anything I learned as an instructor, it’s to teach in the essence of the program.  I know that’s totally Les Mills thing, which is engrained in all of us when we go to the initial training for any of their phenomenal programs.  It simply means do not show up to an RPM (spin) class wearing leotards and a tutu.  Needless to say, the gloves have been broken in, and the outfit is in the works.  The rest will come in the form of an attitude.  If it’s an opportunity to hit stuff, then it will definitely be worth it.