Saturday, July 24, 2010

The One Where That Who Do You Write Like Thing Says I Write Like Chuck Palahniuk and I Go All Fight Club Crazy


 A person can get stuck in a rut, you know?

Wake up, feed the cats, make coffee..............write.........nag my kids and any others who happen to be loitering about........screw around......clean things.....feed the cats again........read.....write.........eat things I shouldn't........go to the gym...lift weights, run on the elliptical.........watch British mysteries..fall asleep.

Like that.

Sometime last week, I'd finished my elliptical workout and Hans and Franz were hogging the weight benches.  I've told you about my impulse control issues so to avoid trouble, I strolled into the small classroom thinking I'd kill some time checking text messages.  As if overcome by instinct, I picked up the pink boxing gloves that lay there like pieces of already-chewed Bubble Yum, slipped them onto my hands where they felt as if they'd been made for me, and started punching away on the heavy bag.

Hey, this feels good!

Since then, I have used the heavy bag every time we've gone to the gym.  Sometimes I use the red dingly bag, too, but that little sucker is wily and needs to be lowered and I'm not climbing up on the folding chair again to do it.  I already had to climb up once and rehang the heavy bag after I knocked it loose.  (Thanks MathMan for doing the heavy lifting, literally!)

But holy cripes, who knew this punching thing was so addictive?

As my brother says, I come from a family where "the only emotion we embrace is anger."  So, yeah.  This should come as no surprise. My pugilistic tendencies are deep-seated and probably genetic even as I strain to keep them smothered under a pile of self delusion and discarded dreams.

I come from a long line of hotheads stretching all the way back to Ireland and Scotland, I remind myself.  They weren't the whiskey drinking, song singing fun Irish and Scots you see in movies and travel documentaries.  At least, they weren't by the time they'd come to inhabit a bend of the Ohio River.  They didn't temper their tempers with spirits.  They were mouthy and angry and there would have been a lot of brawling had alcohol been involved.  Maybe it was because they were Protestant instead of Catholic, but rather than enhancing their personalities with fermented drinks, they chose to overeat things covered with gravy and grind their teeth in silent rebuke of the world.

As for me - the only person I've ever actually fought with was my sister.  The last time we bare-knuckled, we pretty much beat the hell out of one another.  Oh, and there was that guy I grabbed by the ears and bashed his head against the car window frame, but that was just good timing on my part.  Had he not been disadvantaged by sitting in a car and being three sheets to the wind, that embarrassing episode would not have happened.

So now I want to learn how to box properly.  I don't want to break my hands.  I like the adrenaline rush of pounding the daylights out of the bag, but I want to do it correctly.

There's one problem.  The eventual opponent.  I shared my concern with MathMan.  "I want to box, but I don't know if I can take the punches."

MathMan reminded me that I'd had three babies with no pharmaceutical assistance.  "I think you can take pain."

"Yeah, but they won't be punching me in the uterus and vagina.  Much."

"How will you know if you never try?"

I wonder if he might enjoy seeing me get the snot beat out of me as a small repayment for my past sins. Sure it's wrong to be so suspicious, but I can't say I'd blame him.

For now, it's me and the heavy bag, those rockin' pink gloves and the instructions I got off youtube.  But I'm serious.  I want to learn to fight.  The stress release benefits alone would make it worth it.  If I'm going to do it, I want to do it right.  Maybe like this....



Video via theotherlisa Lisa Brackman author of Rock Paper Tiger. 

Okay, so maybe not exactly like that, but close enough. 

22 comments:

  1. I LOVE IT ALL!

    You are supremely righteous.

    I'd let you hit me.

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  2. Perfect! Combine fisticuffs with hours in a saloon .. oh, the stories!

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  3. There are pink boxing gloves?

    I believe some gyms and the Y give classes.

    Jane Austen's Fight Club. Aiiiiiiieeeeeee!

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  4. Rock 'Em, Sock 'Em, Grrrl!

    ...just don't hit me!!!

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  5. ...Hey, that worked... I'm in!!!

    ;)

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  6. Please Hammer, don't hurt 'em!

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  7. I'm passing the video on to somone whom I think will get a kick (-box?) out of it. Great fun!

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  8. Fight club in a triple D bra. Can somebody say remake? That film is so ready for a redo starring you.

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  9. Funny vid. That kind of exercise is a great release. I just submitted a request to sign up for Taiko drumming. That seems totally cool to me... playing those giant barrel drums in sync w other drummers. Another good release.
    I think it's cool to try something new, just to keep things fresh.

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  10. It's great that you have found something that is 1)good for you and 2)fun! Plus, you learn self defense skills. Very cool!

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  11. "Grind their teeth in silent rebuke of the world" sounds oh so familiar.The video is too funny. I'm going to share that one on facebook right now.

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  12. Can't say as I've ever even thought about doing this Lisa. I don't like pain period. But if it's workin' for ya, go for it. It's what makes the world go round. somebody's gotta box!

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  13. extremely cool. I have popped some corn

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  14. Everyone needs an outlet - and a Jane Austen novel!

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  15. Hans and Franz were hogging the weight benches

    heh. Vee Vant to Pump Yoo Upp! (Governator Ahhnuld's motto as well).

    You have such pretty lips, Miss Lisa. And nice writing too, at times.

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  16. Boxing lessons is apparently very popular in NYC gyms (I work out at home, but I see the hanging bags in the windows). Maybe this could be a career change for you. Ok, maybe not. Go for it.

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  17. Damn, as soon as I saw your title I went and grabbed a link to this video so you could see it and then what do I find at the bottom? Things might be better in the world today if this had been true then. Now all I'm left with is to remind you to watch Million Dollar Baby again (she had a very bad family) and go home.

    ps: Did I ever mention I'm not surprised Palanhiuk is a Portland native? There's just something about this place..

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  18. I love hitting the heavy bag. But not enough to actually join a gym. Maybe I could convince my family we need one in our already over-filled garage!

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  19. Violence? You just made baby Jesus cry. Oh, and the CIA is on line two.

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  20. Hummmmm.. I had to let this post settle in for a few days.... and I ruminated greatly upon the topic.... Really? I thought. And then, I remembered. When my mom was ill with cancer, she was told to visualize her body fighting the cancer. And she used boxing as the images.... And she loved watching boxing on TV.... (I never could get into it, even when she was ill....)

    A few years ago in some anger (a lot, really) I used my head to punch the wall in the hallway. The wall got me a punching bag for Christmas that year. But the boxing gloves never fit. I could wrap one hand and get the glove on, but that left the other hand...well... useless for BOXING! The punching bag was left alone. (The wall, thankfully, was too. But hubby left the hole gaping for quite a long time, as a reminder... or a threat....)

    Then, I read this post. And then, I went to Dick's Sporting Goods to look for a pair of pink boxing gloves, because unbeknownst to me until now, there ARE boxing gloves made to fit a more petite set of hands.

    I am now the proud owner (and darest I say "user") of not only the gloves but the punching bag as well?

    I imagine a little firming up of my tricep area...as well as some well worked out anger issues. Thanks Lisa. I love you. (Maybe not your desired result, but I am motivated, none-the-less....)

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  21. Uh... your post is good and all but you violated the very first rule of Fight Club.

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  22. You guys are great! Thanks for the funny and supportive comments. Now, back to the bag.

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