Classes

The hardcore fitness instructor at my gym is leaving. Tomorrow is her last tabata class, which I'm going to try and attend even though it'll leave me with just 30 minutes to get home, shower, change and get in a cab. Hmmmmm maybe I'm being over-ambitious.

She stopped taking the kickboxing boot camp class already, which has been replaced by an instructor who clearly knows her stuff, but doesn't always come with a game plan. Last week she took a class and only three out of 12 people had their own boxing gloves. The punch bag was in the corner of the room and she got everyone to run around in a circle.

'Punch the bag 10 times when you get to it.' She ordered.
'Won't that mean there's a pile-up?' I queried.

She looked thoughtfully for a second and said,

'Let's just give it a go.'

As soon as we started running round the (very small) room, she understood what I said. So she switched her game plan. Only people wearing boxing gloves should hit the bag 10 times. This meant that everyone else was just running round the room in a circle. Hardly scintillating.

It's a bit of a metaphor all this, I guess. Classes change. New people come in. They don't always know what they're doing. They adjust to the surroundings. They get better. It becomes the routine. They leave and the cycle starts all over.