Week 3: Boxing Class


Well the rumors are true, Santa is always watching, even in boxing class, because he is the instructor.

‘Tis the season of giving, of family, and, most importantly, of New Year’s resolutions so my gym decided to get festive and have lights, food, and Mr. and Mrs. Claus teach class. And I must say, Santa is ripped. Mrs. Claus is ripped too, of course, but I always imagined her ripped. She has to stay home with a bunch of elves for an entire day; I’m sure she had to kick some of those little guys out of her house a few times.

New Year’s resolutions, as everyone knows, are usually abandoned about one week into the new year. It’s sad, because we need to do so many things to do to improve our lives: eat better, drink more, get over a guy/girl, etc. But the problem is we make these resolutions while we are home reminiscing about life with no work or real-life to deal with. We need to make these resolutions on a crazy day at work so we don’t forget that we still gotta do this stuff on a busy day. Instead of going to the gym everyday when you work 60 hour work-weeks, maybe do ten squats every time you go to the bathroom. Or take the elevator up to the tenth floor, then stair it for the rest. Much easier to fit into a busy day.

But let’s get back to ripped Santa. I will cover New Year’s later, I promise.

Over the course of my life, I have seen and/or interacted with very memorable men. There was the Balding Anchovy, the Captain America Physical Therapist, the BTS concert. Today, I add another to the list: Ripped Santa.

As I mentioned earlier, all the instructors at my new gym are incredibly ripped. I saw one in baggy sweatpants and could still see the muscles. But this was a whole new level. If you can see someone’s muscles through a Santa costume, that’s the Terry Crewseine level. Ripped Santa was also mean. He knew that if I didn’t do something, I would be put on the naughty list. And I really want a humidifier guys. It was basically extortion. I am surprised that Santa didn’t find it inappropriate to be so violent on a holiday though. It is really to hit stuff to “Jingle Bell Rock.” He is supposed to be all jolly; what a lie. Santa is savage with his ab workout.

Most of the stuff he told us to do, I didn’t think was psychically possible for the body to do. But I did it. And with it, completed another week of working out. My stress is still relatively down, and I’m hungry all of the time. Those are my only improvements so far.

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