Boxing Baby!

‘My best friend (Emily) invited me to a boxing class’


As most of you probably know, I’ve been going through the process of a break-up, as well as living a stressful life in London. My best friend (Emily) invited me to a boxing class with a group of our friends. Well, why not? I’m open to trying new things, and beating a punching bag where I can pretend it’s my ex boyfriends face is the perfect cure for stress! That was a joke, I love my ex.


‘There I was looking like a malnourished Rocky Balboa’


We travelled to Brixton station, where we then walked to the boxing gym. As I walked into the room, I was ushered to the front of the class to be shown the punching movements. Once complete, we were given boxing gloves. Well fuck me, they smelt. A smell so disgustingly footlike, it stuck to my hands and I had to smell it throughout my journey home. I live in Richmond, that’s a long time to have hands that smell like arse.

So there I was, looking like a malnourished Rocky Balboa with my stinky boxing gloves, punching the ba whilst, trying to give the impression that I’m a bad arse, but really I was petrified I was going to damage my tiny wrists (thanks dad).

The instructor began shouting his commands as the class punched the bags in unison. We jabbed, threw hooks and what have you. Well I was bloody sweating my arse off. For half an hour I hit this damn bag – my ladylike hands were ruined! What I was not prepared for was the half an hour of circuits that followed. Well… shit. Now I’ve always been involved in sports and like to think I’m reasonably fit, but I was close to vomiting.


‘Basically, I’m bloody amazing in the bedroom, clearly!’


We were doing 30 press-ups at a time, diamond press-ups, wide-armed press-ups, the lot! There was even this snake press-up, which was very sexual. I was the only one that could do it, I was given a shout out from the instructor and he told me I was better than him. Basically, I’m bloody amazing in the bedroom, clearly!

If you stopped, the instructor came over and shouted at you to carry on. I was living for it. I loved it. When I go to the gym by myself, I don’t have the same enthusiasm or motivation I had when in this class. I went for it, there is some sort of solidarity in a group of people all trying to not die!

I felt like I’d really achieved something when I had completed the class – after the wave of sickness slowly drifted away.

So if you’re looking for a way to exercise, which is fun, a little different and you really feel like you’ve had a good workout, I recommend a boxing/circuits class. It’s brutal, I won’t sugar coat it, but what do you have to lose? Apart from a little vomit.

The class I went to is at Miguel’s Boxing Gym and costs £10. The class is an hour long and it’s every Tuesday at 7pm. I believe there is also a class at 8pm which is for women only.

Give it a go!


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