The Fighter in Me

My friend said this morning she was going to start calling me "Mo". That's short for Mohammad Ali. And while I'm short, white, and horribly uncoordinated -- that comparison is nothing but funny.

This came from our workout this morning. As part of our CrossFit circuit, my friend's husband included the boxing bag as part of our workout. Here's the workout:

Warm Up: 2 minutes of AMSAP (that's...As Many Sit Ups As Possible)
Circuit: 1 minute Flutters (that's a sit up while kicking your legs in a scisscor kick as high as you can without stoping), 20 second rest; 1 minute air squats, 20 second rest; 1 minute punching bag, 20 second rest. (5 rounds of this)!
Cool Down: 2 minutes of AMSAP

Post Workout: Cut clothes off with scissors because you can't lift your arms over your head!

I'm telling you...boxing is the hardest thing I've ever done! My friend's hubby (alias Cross Fit Nazi) said: "That was a great workout ladies but now I know why Deborah's children are so well-behaved!" We all laughed. I said I'd never thrown a punch in my life, and my good friend responded: "Yah! That's your problem! The way you were hitting that bag, there's a lot of pent up aggression!"

Ha! I was just pretending it was my realtor, the bank, and President O. Whatever. Needless to say, my arms are gonna be sore. But NOW...I want a punching bag. WHO KNEW?! I never knew I could sweat so hard from hitting a bag for 60 seconds. 60 seconds. That was an eternity each time I did it.

And for the record, it's fine. You can call me Mo. Mo better. Mo stronger. Mo meaner. Mo no sissy girl!!! I am empowered!