After going three rounds with Mama in Wii boxing, I’ve decided that if I want to avoid heart failure, I’d better stick to the long distance biking.
Before you get all up in my grill about beating up girls, I’ll remind you that Mama’s a second-degree black belt…OK, so it’s in Tae Kwon Do, not boxing, but they still punch more in TKD than I do on my bike. Furthermore, she picked a boy as her Mii for the match, so I wasn’t even virtually beating up on a girl.
Also, she hit me first.
Did so. Did so. Did so.
What was I saying? Oh yeah, about how out of shape I am for my upcoming ride. I helped my cause by kicking off the new year with a knee injury. I’m hoping it goes away soon, but last night, as I was bouncing and swaying and shushing our little Jewel to sleep, I strained my knee. Something about the combined vertical, lateral, high repetition, high frequency motion while carrying a medicine ball didn’t agree with my 41-year-old knee. Imagine that.
OK, she’s a lot cuter than a medicine ball, but Jewel is also probably heavier than one too, so it’s a fair comparison for these purposes.
Somehow, when I was a teenager, I didn’t imagine the day that 15 minutes of bobbing and weaving would cause me to pull up lame. Then again, neither did I imagine the day when I’d go three rounds with my wife, laughing all the way, before finally knocking her out then giving her a kiss and having her challenge me to a rematch.