By Max

OK. Let get this out there from the beginnning. I have done next to no exercise for the last 6 months, and have gotten a little pudgy around the middle.  OK OK you got me I'm pudgy every where..... (Except no mateter how fat you get it seems your johnson doesn't get fatter. What a pity.) I'm 180cm and weigh 102kg's. I'm big.

So when a mate of mine suggested we go down to the local fight GYM for a session of Muay Thai, I naturally Imagined myself kicking arses and taking names, what really happened was not quite so glorius.

To set this up, I better explain how my afternoon went to start with.
I left for home at 5pm planning to start the Muay Thai session at 7.30pm. So I get half way home and my motorbike starts making a weird noise...kinda like it was about to run out of fuel, I however knew this wasn't the case as judging by my trip metre I had at least 50km's left in the tank. I pull off the highway anyway and decide to take a back street home, just in case it konked out......3 blocks later it dies. FUCK FUCKING FUCKER! So next, I check the fuel tank and sure enough its empty. Mother Fucker! I walk to the nearest shops (about a km away) and call the missus to come and rescue me then I walk back to the bike(another KM). Once at my bike I realize that There is no-where for the missus to pull over. Just 2 lanes of traffic and no shoulder to park on. So I decide to push the bike to the nearest service station, which was near the aforementioned shops (that's right, you guessed it, another kilometre away) So I pushed the heavy mother fucker all the way and await my lady.

 While I am sitting there is occurs to me that it is now 6pm and I am going to have a hard time eating and then getting to Muay Thai on time. Then It occurs to me that I had eaten nothing all day. No wonder all that walking and pushing was killing me.

My lady arrives and gets me some fuel and I ride home.It's 6.30 and I'm 30 mins away from the GYM. Just enough time to slam down a chocalate YOGO! That oughta keep me going.

So I finally make it to the GYM at 7;15pm and the first thing I see is a guy with a busted face- (a big puffy, might be infected, black eye) walking out. I start to re-think this whole martial arts thing. But  Im here now and decide to get going. The instructor hands me a skipping rope with the simple instructions "skip". So I start skipping after about 15 mins of this dam skipping I am knackered and I haven't even hit anyone yet. A little timer goes off  and I he say "ok, squats" I look around and yep, we are all doing squats I starting to think I have been stitched up. Then after what seemed like 4 hours of  squatting (probably 5 mins) he says "push ups and sits ups ..GO" Now I am totally fucked. But inspired by the pictures of Danny Green and many other finely tuned fighters that adorned the walls I push on. The Timer thing goes off again and, you know what I am thinking? "FUCKING FINALLY, I get to kick or hit something" WRONG WONG FUCKING WRONG....MORE FUCKING SKIPPING! AHHHH!

When the skipping finally finished we grab some pads and prepare to start kicking and hitting each other. I make it through a few rounds of "left, right,.. Kick" and feel the sudden urge to get a drink of water.The thing was I was so absolutely shattered from all the fucking skipping I couldn't think straight.After staggering around in a daze for a minute  I finally realize that the dunny is my best option. I take 3 steps  in that direction and realize I am going to fucking chunder.

 I bust into the toilet and hurl.Then my legs give out and i find myself hurling while sitting next to the dunny. Tears streaming down my face from the sweat stinging my eyes and the effort of hurling. Of course I only had chocolate Yogo in my stomach so there wasn't much to hurl, which made it that much worse. After like 10 mins I go back in to the gym for another go. I do a few kick and fall over because my fucking calf muscle cramped up. I push on through it for another few minutes cramping on every other kick.

Finally its my turn to stop kicking and  I get to hold the pad and stop all this kicking bullshit. Time for some rest....Nuh uh. *Bang*- kick to my "belly ring" (a big pad to protect your stomach) ...'Oh god Im fuking winded.' Then I move my arms (which were like lead by this time) to block a kick, but I wasn't positioned properly and my own hand bounced up and smacked me in my sweaty fat face...OWCH! Not going well.

We finally finish all the kicking and punching and I feel like I have my second wind and should be able to ride home without to much trouble..... Then that sadistic fuck of a trainer tells us to get on our backs and do ....fuck I don't know what its called, but it was a fucked up abdominal exercise...the last thing I needed after all that spewing and shit.

Finally the session is over and Its time to go home. I try and slide my foot into my slip on shoe, but my fucking leg cramps up more. FUUUUCKKK. After like 2 mins of fucking around I finally manage to get my shoes on and I am on my way home.

After the 30 minute ride through the freezing night I make it home only to find my missus waiting for me with mop in hand..."you said you were going to mop...I have guest tomorrow... now get to it."... I would have kicked the bitch, but my legs wouldn't move, So I mopped the floor as promised.


So I would have to say my final evaluation is that, I FUCKING ROCK at this Muay Thia shit! Can't wait for next week.