Friday, June 13, 2014

So... It Turns Out I Might Be A Masochist.

I suppose, if you've been hanging around here long enough, eventually seeing a post with a title like the one above won't really come as a shock. In fact, a few of you may think my admission of something like this is long overdue. Unfortunately, you're going to have to wait a little longer for me to admit to my twisted sexual tastes. I guess you'll just have to use your imaginations. Actually, don't. Forget I said that. I've hung around some of your places a while too and I'd rather not be a part of some of your own twisted imaginations.

Well... maybe a few of you...

My confession is nowhere as interesting as the post would lead you believe (no shocker there). Truth is, I'm hoping by the time you got to this part and realized this post contains no stories of whips, ball-gags and leather unitards, you'll decide to continue reading just out of the sheer principle of finishing something you've already started.

Which would probably make some of you the real masochists here.

Anyway, I digress (no shocker there either). One of the updates I neglected to pass on is that I restarted the gym a few months back.

I know, right?! How could I leave something like that out?

But not just any gym, mind you. The gym. The place where I first started learning Thai boxing back in secondary school.
source
The place I've tried to make time to rejoin but made every excuse not to could never get the timing right to get back into it. This is the gym where I was so pushed to my limits, physically, I likened the instructor's training technique to sadomasochism.

And now the title makes sense.

Of course, there have been some changes to the old place, over the years. New students, new equipment, bigger training area and all that. But, at it's core, it's still the same old place where you train hard and develop an unnatural affection for pain... and the guy in charge likes to occasionally sneak up behind you, flip you and send you flying through the air, just for the heck of it. I'm already getting back to my old form and keeping up with guys more than half my age... realizing there are now students there more than half my age training there now... feeling a little bummed by this fact...

Still, I am keeping up with them so I guess that counts for something. Plus, one time, one of the guys saw me practicing my kicks on the bag and insisted he be allowed to wear extra padding when he was told to spar with me. I've always wondered what it's like to be feared.

I like it.
This bag is actually the oldest one there. He keeps it far in the back where I have plenty of "alone time" with it.
I swear it looked like that before I got there. Honest!
All that being said. I have been reintroduced to the pain I had long forgotten. The first few weeks especially were rough and I spent a lot of time trying not to move very much. But... I kept going back... I keep going back! It's almost as if I enjoy this violent abuse being inflicted upon my body. I-I'm allowing people to hit me and they let me hit them back.

And I like it...

Maybe the title of this post is more appropriate than I thought. Come to think of it, I do get this special feeling of power when I strap on my leather training gloves.

By the way, if you're worrying about me regaling you with constant gym pics and posts, don't expect much more than this post. I did wait five months to actually let you all know I was back there to begin with so I think you don't need to worry.

12 comments:

  1. So, teach me the five finger death punch, sensei! It's imperative that I learn it so that I may defend myself against the bullies at the parking authorities who wish to ticket my car as the meter expires! #ImA5DeadlyVenomWannabe

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    Replies
    1. I will be happy to teach you. By the way, how do you respond to suddenly being thrown through the air? You'll need to sign a waiver.

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  2. Replies
    1. Yes, it is. Painful sometimes, but cool.

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  3. Even if you don't talk about your masochism any further, it sounds like we may well be in for a future post about addiction?

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    Replies
    1. No doubt. Only problem is, once I start talking about one, my other vices may get jealous & want their one posts too.

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  4. I get grappling--kind of--but enjoyment from getting blasted in the face...uh, getting punched or kicked in the face? That's out of my realm of understanding. Maybe because I have such a pretty pretty pretty did I mention pretty face. And I hate peeing blood.

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    1. I was afraid of my own beautiful features being marred as well. Then I figured out the solution was to warn the others that if they did hit me in the face I'd leave them needing more bandages than the old punching bag in the back (pictured above). Intimidation seems to be working so far.

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  5. I am a little disappointed not to get gym pics....
    My imagination is kinda working overtime..

    must behave.. lol

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    Replies
    1. If you're talking about pics of me in the gym, your mental image may be the the better way to go. Actual pics of the gym itself may be more exciting. I could send you pics of some of the other guys, though. That could be worth your while.

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  6. I am so impressed that you're doing that!!!
    It is so hard to get back in the gym swing of things. I was recently (uh,,,5 months ago) cleared by my doctors to go back to the gym & I just barely started this week (checked the hours and did some walking! Oh brother!)
    Boxing sounds like fun, except I wouldn't want anyone hitting me back, because I'm wimp. I wonder if there's a class for that!

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    Replies
    1. A class where you can beat someone up & he'd just stand there & take it without hitting back actually doesn't sound like a bad idea. I bet it would be a great stress reliever too.

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