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Inspiration From A Punching Bag
I Am a Punching Bag.
I weigh 200 pounds, I am six feet tall, and I'm going to laugh at you as you punch and kick me. I will not move, but you will not quit.
I sit, silently watching you do pushups next to me. I feel your legs clutching at me as you do sit-ups. I can smell the slightly acrid smell of your sweat, rich with adrenaline as the class pushes you further than you thought possible.
I hear the instructor barking out combos, 1-2-1-1-3-2. I see the apprehension pass fleetingly over your face as you try to remember the punches that those numbers mean and the look of satisfaction as it comes to you. I feel your blows, but they don’t faze me.
Every day, I watch you come and sweat. I see your pain. I see your struggle.
But I also see your triumphs.
Your Victories.
The way your face becomes tranquil as you find that sweet spot where your muscles take over, and your blows come with speed, force and, most importantly, determination.
No longer do you need to stop and catch your breath every ten minutes. Now you lead the class! You are lean, defined. You are strong!
Now, now I feel your punches as they land! Your kicks lift me off the ground! My chain keeps me tethered, but I swing madly!
And you never relent! Mercilessly, you throw combos that land viciously and accurately.
I feel the sting of every blow as it lands.
100%
