It was Amy’s idea. She suggested taking a class at the local Y. I have been on this kick and my new motto has been: You only have one life so you might as well try and experience all you can of it.

So I paid my $45.00 dues and signed up. It was going to be fun, interesting and I was going to learn something new. Plus, I have never known how to throw a punch correctly.

When I got to class it was after a full day of drafting court paperwork, court appearances and meeting with clients. I hadn’t had anything to eat all day. This is a bad habit I know. For nourishment I drink lots of coffee with sugar and milk. This is all the daily energy I had pumped into my body. I wasn’t off to a very good start. I just didn’t think it through.

I should have known the class was going to be hell the minute I saw our instructor. A beautiful blonde named Emily. She appears to have a great personality. She has a really firm handshake. She remembered all of our names by the end of the class. I thought she looked like a venus but with arms as big as my upper leg muscles. I instantly liked her and I think I am going to try and make a new friend.

In this class I believe there are about 10 to 12 people. I did not memorize everyone’s name. I was in too much pain. I should have known I was going to be in trouble the minute she gave the speech. It went something like this: Your life is a ring. Your life, your mind, your body. When you feel like giving up you need to give it an additional five (it really was a better speech than this but this is all I can remember.)

We ran stairs. We did hand weights while punching. We did planks. We did sit ups and crunches with handweights. We did the boxers stance and the jumping from toe to toe. We pretended to jump an invisible rope while jumping up and down and up and down.

We ran the stairs. Up and down and Up and down.

Did I mention that we ran the stairs?

I really thought for a few minutes I was going to puke.

Emily took pity on me. I was the worst in that room. I got a full view of me in the mirror. I see why. Working 80 hours a week, not eating so good, reading and writing all the time does not make for a very healthy body. I am also probably one of the oldest people in the room. I have absolutely zero upper body strength. I take in all my flaws because that is what I do.

Now all I can think about is making myself better. Now I am going to work hard so that I don’t have to stop to take any small breaks. I am going to start running on a regular basis again. I am going to quit putting sugar in my coffee. I am determined to get rid of some additional weight.

My arms are sore. I am going to feel this tomorrow morning I know.

But instead of turning to drugs and alcohol I am deciding to heal some of my emotional pain with physical pain. I like how it feels. I like that I am so sore. I know I am going to look and feel better in the long run.

My physical imperfections motivate me. I am not scared of the ring. I want to be able to go those three minute rounds without puking on pretty Emily’s toes.