Thursday, August 25, 2005

Cowboy is teaching me to box! I've always wanted to learn to box, ever since I was a wee girl watching the Rocky movies in my family's darkened living room while eating pizza and drinking that rarest of treats: soda. My brother and I actually had an inflatable Mickey Mouse punching bag when we were little, the kind with sand in the bottom so it would bounce back up when we hit it. Alas, it quickly acquired a hole that refused to remain patched.

But a couple months ago, Cowboy got some books from the library and started teaching himself how to box. Just for exercise, you understand. You see, he's always trying to get me to exercise. I was doing really well with my yoga for about six months, doing it at least 30 minutes 3 times a week. Then I went on jury duty, and never really got back into yoga after all that disruption. Then Cowboy came up with the brilliant idea of combining violence with the exercise. Perfect! Once he'd learned the basics fairly well, like the stance and things like that, we went out and bought a punching post thingie and bag gloves for each of us.

So now he's teaching me to box. I'm still working on my stance and jabbing, that's all. But we've learned something rather interesting: although I'm ordinarily right-handed, when I box, I'm a southpaw! We found out because, when he started teaching me the stance, I kept reversing my feet because I felt off balance. And he'd tell me, "No, no, the right heel has to be ahead of the left toes." And I'd complain, "But I'm gonna tip over!" Also, I kept wanting to jab with my right instead of my left. So finally we switched me around to see if doing things the other way would work out, and it did! Weird, huh?

6 comments:

  1. Way cool! My sister and I had one of those punching bags when we were young. We had a lot of fun beating it up. Violent children, all of us!

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  2. I practice Italian-American boxing. Two of your buddies hold him, and you practice boxing! :-)

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  3. Hee - I like that, Cowboy!

    And I remembered today (and confirmed with my sister) that our punching bag was a Spock punching bag. Very odd thinking about it now... we were beating up Spock. 'Course you were beating up Mickey Mouse!

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  4. And we are living proof that violent children who love to hit things do not necessarily turn out to be mass murderers (except when it comes to stomping spiders).

    At least, I don't think you're a mass murderer...

    "Remember that time you thought Frank might be the Unabomber?"--You've Got Mail

    I'd rather punch Mickey Mouse than Spock. Poor Spock!

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  5. Yeah, and who was the one recommending I bury the bodies standing up under my garden to save room? LOL!!

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  6. Good point. Forget everything I've ever said. Violence does breed violence. Violins breed violins. Take two hares with no cares, pretty soon you got a room full of rabbits. It's an endless, vicious cycle!

    "It is up to people like you and me, who are out of our tiny little minds, to help these people overcome their sanity."--Monty Python's Flying Circus

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