Flipflops in the Rain


flippy ali

i’m going boxing tonight! i’m mildly nervous, but i have a (very, very, very) light background in martial arts and kickboxing (as in, i took a few rec classes in college), so it shouldn’t be toooo bad.

my main goal with this class is to find an extracurricular activity i can be passionate about — other than heavily drinking on the weekends. i went through a big yoga phase a couple months ago, but i’ve been finding it hard to motivate myself to attend classes lately (including the free twice-a-weeks my work provides at lunchtime). i’d say the best way to fall in love with a sport is to fall in love with the instructor’s teaching style. i’ve unfortunately not had great luck in the yoga department. whyyyyy would a “peaceful”, “soothing” yoga instructor feel the need to scream out the poses? i didn’t skip my lunch for boot camp — i skipped to unwind and forget about annoying customers. boxing, on the other hand… i *want* to be yelled at. i *want* to fight and kick ass.

if nothing else, this is probably a much more efficient way of getting out my aggression than stupid yoga.



if i say it on the internet, i guess i have to do it…

… i’m going to the gym tonight.

i’m going to the gym tonight, and i’m going to like it. i’m going to run, i’m going to sweat, and i’m going to make my muscles scream at me.

and i’m going to start going three times a week at least once a week.

and i’m going to forget chik fil a exists.

and if the Caps win tonight (WHEN! WHEN the Caps win tonight!) and my roommate tries to get me to go out drinking to celebrate, i’m not going to do it.

i’m not going to drink and i’m going to the gym and i’m no longer eating chikin and i’m going to like my decision on all counts.

there. i said it. so now i gotta do it.