Today I planned to travel up a dak windey road in a distant suburb after dark in order to pick up and pay for an air pump.
From a complete stranger. In the dark.
In a place I’ve never been before. Relying only on public transport. In the dark.
I was all ‘puh. Whatever, I’ll catch a bus at 7, be at scary stranger man’s house at 8, and home by 9!’
And it seemed like a pretty good plan… Right up until I was standing at the bus stop realising that I’d missed the first bus. The second bus was only 1/2 an hour away… But I think my intuition kicked in. All of a sudden being chased by a serial killer down Maupuia Road – while awesome for todays cardio quota – did not seem like such a great idea.
I kept imagining all the rules my Dad gave me when I moved out of home at 18. I think this little outing was going the break three of them. Four if you count my own personal ‘No being stupid’ rule.
So now I have to email the guy and be all “Hoho Serial Killer, you thought you had me, right! Well you don’t. I’m going to get you to post it, even though we live in the same city, and it’s actually going to drive the cost up to exactly what I’d pay at a pet store anyway.”
I am in a bad mood tonight.
Also, I did Fight Do this evening, and I try, and I try, but good god I hate that class. There is no freaking point to it. We punch at the air in time to music, and use stupidly bad technique, and they make us do these ridiculous blocks – that as far as I see wouldn’t block anything in the real world – and yes you sweat, but it’s not great cardio, it’s not great resistance training… It’s just not much of anything!
Also? It makes me mad and frustrated, and then I start wondering why they won’t just let me kick something, or hit something, and then my mood ends up in the toilet, and I have to deal with vivid fantasies of punching people in the face for the next two days.
In short, I think I’ll go into the gym tomorrow and do a proper boxing workout. Since I didn’t get to flee from a serial killer tonight.