My friend Anastacia Beaverhausen* always said exercise was dangerous. And now I know she’s right.
In an effort to detox** during the week and stop socially drinking so much, I agreed to the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. Stupider than every man I’ve ever dated. Stupider than the time I ate the custard tarts. Stupider than the time I accidentally told my boss he was an idiot. EVEN stupider than the time I got on a train in Hong Kong without my friends, a map, or knowing where I was supposed to be going, all because I was impatient and could see a tiny space into which I could squeeze.
Yep, I’ve done some stupid things. None more so than Disco. Boxing.
In theory, it sounded good (just like communism and carb-free pasta). A Monday night devoted to exercise with friends, on a rooftop in the valley, to give me fabulously defined arms and a distraction from my first night of alcohol detox. In reality, it was a group of four terrified individuals standing on a freezing windy building top with a giant beefcake man wearing one of those face microphone earpiece thingies, yelling at us.
I was already cranky because my male boxing partner was allowed to box first (what IS this, don’t you know women can VOTE NOW, beefcake man?!) and then I was cranky when they took our boxing gloves away, because that’s when the “disco” portion started. This mainly consisted of shadow boxing to 1990’s LL Cool J, while beefcake man didn’t even do the entire routine.
After 30 minutes of raising my eyebrows and not much else, we got to the kicking section. YES! Finally some real exercise! Finally I might get my heartrate up! I am going to kick the sh*t out of this thing! And out went my left leg. And…rip.
Goodbye, left calf muscle. Was nice knowing you. And thus, I cannot run for two weeks.
So – this is all because I tried to detox. So, if disco boxing has taught us anything, and I believe it has, it’s this: don’t detox, or you will end up injured and in pain. Drink instead***. At least that way, you and your muscles will stay loose.
*Not her real name, though if she’d been able to choose…
**It’s really hard to detox with the friends I have. One said: “Detox? That’s for people who are dead inside.” The other agreed we should detox, then texted me about how it was really time to have a white wine.
***So, after disco boxing, we went to get a pint of beer. Medicinal, obviously.
Sidebar – I am still planning to read Jill Stark’s High Sobriety. At least if I can’t detox, I can support someone who did.