Everything I needed to know I learned from kickboxing

Today stupid stuff interfered with my workouts, never a happy thing. This meant I had to miss my kickboxing class. I have to tell you it made me sadder than I expected it would, and I expected to be sad. This is kinda funny, since the first time I did kickboxing, I experienced a special kind of frustration, the kind that comes from wholly and royally sucking hard at something.

Nowadays? I'm totally into it, I lurve it.

It takes me out of my head like nothing else can, in a way I absolutely need, cuz my head is full of all kinds of very loud crazy. I was realizing that I have learned some very valuable life lessons from it, the kind of lessons I might otherwise have to read in a gawdawful smirky self-help book with pictures of teacups and rainbows on it. Lessons aside from how to hold your hands up so you don't get popped or how jump kicks in some series of more than ten are the most wrecking thing ever, in a good way, though I'd never request them. So what goodness has come from trying to beat the love out of a bag or pads using good form?

1. There is nothing quite like persisting at something you have no natural aptitude for. Now, when I say I have no natural aptitude, I mean kickboxing is over here, and I'm over there. It's inherently hard for me for a billion reasons, including the fact that I have bad depth perception and lots of discomfort with being even slightly unbalanced. I learn kinetically, which means I can't do anything well until I feel it---even if I watch someone demo perfect form a thousand times. This means I have an extremely steep learning curve, so if I suck at something, I'll be lame at it for a long time. Thus, I tend to stick with things that come at least a little bit naturally.

After the first time I tried kickboxing, I avoided it for a few months. Then for various reasons, I tried again. Still sucked at it. Kept going. And now, while I am still not good, I suck much less. I'm now just this side of sucky. I cannot tell you the satisfaction that gives me. To do something hard for a while, and persist until it gets easier---well, it's more rewarding than most anything else. I'd hug that feeling if I could.

2. If you want to work with others, you are better off communicating in some way with them. Anyone who has partnered with me for some exercise knows I'm a terrible partner, because I get in a zone and forget anyone else is around. And I'm not good at sharing, or moderating, or collaborating. In most of my life I prefer to be unilateral and independent. I tell people things after the fact, rather than working them out in the moment, and I gravitate towards things I can do by myself.

But if you are holding pads for someone, or trading punches, you'd better be able to work together or someone will probably get injured or annoyed and request to be put on the opposite end of the gym as you for all future workouts. I don't mean you have to yap yap yap the whole time, and actually I don't like that chatty business so much. But you do have to give people proper resistance to their kicks, react well, work with them, give them physical feedback of some kind. And it turns out I kinda like that, even though it also makes me anxious that I'm going to do a bad job at times (which may be part of my natural unilateral shtick.) I still have a long way to go as far as being a good training partner, but I'll never forget the time I paired up with this great woman in my class and we did leg kicks with pads. Lots of leg kicks. When she was done, I rolled up my pant leg and showed her the big mark she made on my thigh cuz her kicks were so awesome they went through the pad. She grinned, and said, "That's so great!" Then when I was done with my kicks, she showed me the bruise I made on her leg. I probably glowed. It was so freakin' nice, I can't even tell you.

To read more lessons or just get a soothing back rub, click here.