Boxing is hard. I fought a high school student yesterday who I probably outweighed by a good 80-100 pounds, and I landed 2 (wussy) punches on him in 3 minutes. This was as long as I could go before being reduced to a ragged, gasping, sweaty mess. The other guy had been in the ring all night, but he's been boxing for a lot longer than I have.
It's good to get some exercise. I'm sure the 10 years of heavy boozing, smoking, and other toxic foolishness that I have only recently (and imperfectly) put behind me will catch up to me sooner or later. My intent is not to "save myself" by becoming a fitness nut, but rather to try to enjoy my residence in my body while I still can.
I used to think that I hated sports, but now I wonder if I just had a bad attitude. Misfit sports, like boxing at Bob Edgett's Boys' Club in Sackville, can be a lot of fun.
I wonder if jocks get together for misfit reading groups (my guess is they don't).
(Image from blog.simslearningconnections.com )