Today I went to a kettle bells workout class at my gym.
Now, in the past, I have not been known for being good bedfellows with my gym. We were barely on nodding terms for a long time. But in the last seven or eight months, since joining Fitness First, in Leeds, I’ve really started to enjoy working out.
Now, after a few months of hard work, running 5k is not really a big deal. Spending a good couple of hours in the gym on a weekend is a pleasure, rather than a chore. I don’t have to drag myself there anymore. I’ve even reached that pinnacle of exercise being a stress-buster that makes me feel amazing (I’d always suspected this was a cruel myth, and was proved happily wrong).
So thanks to the above, I started to feel like my workout wasn’t pushing me hard enough, and that I needed to try some new regimes to help me to get more out of the gym. So, with gusto, I sprang to the gym after work today, ready to GO HARD OR GO HOME.
However, I do not think I was quite ready for kettle bells. Especially after having done boxercise yesterday, and being encumbered with a significant dose of man flu today. I went along to the lovely, welcoming class and I worked a lot harder than I have in a long time. My muscles ached so much it was actually an effort lifting my arms to take my top off after the class… I’m sure it’ll get easier with time, and the class was actually a lot of fun (especially as we did it outside, like P.E.). I liked it more than Zumba and spinning, don’t think I’ll do the former again but the latter I will.
I’ll definitely be going again. If I survive tomorrow.