My body aches in a hundred different places. On Friday night I successfully passed my first kung fu test; I'm now an orange belt! I sure feel like I earned it. The test was two and a half hours long, and though there were some moments of respite for the beginners while we waited for the higher levels to complete their routines, it was pretty grueling (if I stick with it, I'm sure I'll look back on this blog entry one day with bemused contempt). Consider: thirty-three different punches, ten repetitions with each hand ... I punched 660 times before putting my arms down. And that's just the punches - there were also blocks, kicks, and knee kicks, as well as stances and breathing exercises, and the obligatory sit-ups and push-ups. The fact I managed to get through it without being too tempted by the idea of passing out is a testament to how much fitter I have become in the last few months.
The worst pain is in my pectorals and adductors.
I'm hoping to start cycling to Henry V rehearsals this week to improve my endurance, if the weather allows. Where did all this motivation to work myself physically come from? I was always such a sedentary child.