IF you’ve been reading this blog, you’ll know I’m almost a full year into my Britney breakdown stroke mid life crisis. The reinvention of self is ongoing. In my spare time, I do something new to bring on a heart attack or amuse.

At work, I’m mainly computer based. It has encouraged my ass to take on pumpkin formation and it was getting out of control. I’ve been walting away at Slimming World, approaching a loss of 1.5 Stone. But I hit a wall and needed to up my game with some moving around.

You know and I know that I hate the gym and unless I’m dancing with a bottle of beer in my hand, I have the speed of a sloth on heroin.

Me and sport just don’t get on but I like boxing and I’m onto Season 4 of Ray Donovan. For everyone’s sake, I’ll not re-watch American Pyscho.

This week I hit myself a boot in the arse and through a work exercise programme, I started going to a boxing club. My long term friend Pauline had been going to it. I didn’t know she was there and she didn’t know I was going so it was class to have a bud there.

I’d already done this before as I partook in a charity do when I was about seventeen and won against a door woman from Exit 15. This, you’ll understand was one of my favourite moments in life.

The instructor is really sound and was welcoming and encouraging the whole time. But. This is a big but. Bigger than my own butt. He made us go for a warm up run. Outside. Past rush hour traffic. The last time I ran, no joking was when the cops were chasing me years ago.


Me and Pauline turned into Phoebe and Rachel. I was elbowing people, my legs were moving but the self consciousness was hanging clean out of me and I was pure scundered. Everyone was faster than me. I tasted blood in my mouth. Actually think my lungs were bleeding from being inflated.

Back into the boxing gym and we strapped up. This is the practice of wrapping a couple of metres of bandage around your hands and wrists for support.

Everyone had a bag each and got down to punching it for one minute and then one minute of hitting it as hard as possible. This went on for half an hour, then we were told to do sit ups, star jumps, press ups and these evil things called burpees and planks. Whoever invented these is getting a dig in the face and beat with planks when I get good at this. Two days have passed and I feel like I’ve had a punishment beating while riding a horse.

So I’m planning a jaunt around the Falls Park this weekend to practice running like a normal human. If you see me, wave hello or ring an ambulance as I might need a defibrillator.