"You shouldn't be able to talk. And you shouldn't be able to read."
Sheesh. I used to save my Vanity Fairs for the gym. But no more.
Now I'm doing push ups and squats and crunches and the dreaded plank.
Oh, and I box.
Like this morning. Tim came over, big yellow balance ball, weights and...gloves!
I feel like I'm getting good at the gloves. He's calling out punches and I nail them like, 50% of the time. (This is excellent for me) The first time we tried this, Tim goes, "I had a feeling Spots'd like hitting shit."
I'm still working on my terminology, you know, hooks vs. jabs, etc. But this morning, I learned an upper cut. With sweat pouring down my face, I discovered how to break your jaw. So uh, watch ya'selves.
I am now setting the groundwork for a black tie party in the backyard where I box some hobo we pay 50 cents and have Scotch and cigars...