|I do not look like this. Yet.|
The torture began again last night. Yes, boxing bootcamp is firmly back in my diary. I’d been putting off the inevitable for a week or so of the new year – mainly due to diary horrors, weddings, and the Cairo cough which I came back from Egypt with. Yes, it’s procrastinating, but two full nights a week, starting at 7.30 in the evening, are not always achievable when you’re a) working way too hard b) trying to have a social life.
Anyway I quit moaning and cleared some time to get back involved. There are so many benefits to bootcamp that I can’t believe I stopped for so long (regular readers will know that way back when, A and I hit it hard for about 3 months. I was even there the week after the car crash, bandaged but boxing!).
It’s in one of Dubai’s beautiful parks, meaning lush grass, greenery, and lots of people enjoying the cooler evenings. This does also mean that you are a subject of much interest from the public – 10 crazy people punching the living daylights out of one another is a sight to be seen, to be fair! It also means I get to have a good catch up with A – gossiping whilst exercising definitely makes the hour fly by!
Last night we covered topics as diverse as: sex, perfume, work (dull), relationships, clothing, and the compulsory: “what are we having for tea later”. A treat!
Despite dreading the whole thing I really enjoyed it, and woke up this morning feeling sprightly. I’d expected to feel like I’d been hit by a truck. Bootcamp, I never thought I'd say it, but I missed you!