boxing

We are having a Wiener Schnitzel for lunch at the Institute today. I bloody deserve it. I can barely move, my lower back, shoulders, and quads are shattered. They were wrung out dry. I decided to pick up where I left off at Kostas's Garage of Pain in Jamaica Plains, where I was introduced to the world of boxing briefly. It took me awhile to find a boxing club in Vienna that wouldn't sound too intimidating and hardcore. Finally I settled on Schwarzweiss Wien Boxing Club. After all, their website says 'boxing for fitness' among other things, and there is a female boxer, with a straight, unshattered, nose depicted on the front page. I biked over yesterday, had my workout clothes with me 'just in case'. I should only watch the first time anyway. I bike through 9th, 1st, 5th and 6th bezirkt (district or whatnot) and find a rather large building. It takes about just as long as it used to from Somerville to JP. Ah, wish there was a Kostas in Vienna, with a little garage turned into a boxing studio, with picnics after training, guitar and good friends. No such thing. When I enter, I am soon seized by the trainer. He says we start in five minutes and to go change fast. Gulp. Me, too? Yes. I look around. The dark hall is dominated by a real boxing ring, with two guys going at it ferrociously. Groans, moans, and yelps dominate the silence. There are about twenty other men scattered about, some eyeing me, I suppose, amusedly. No other woman anywhere. Shit, shit, shit! What did I get myself into! Well, I ain't backing out now. Nobody can say I didn't give it my best at least. I change quick and come back with all my supplies - wraps, mouth guard, jumping rope. Trainer is pleased. He disperses us through the hall and starts barking numerous instructions. In German. Bloody hell. At the end he turns to me and says: "Jump". Ok. Jumping rope. Five rounds, three minutes each, with a minute of break inbetween. Why did I not also bring water 'just in case'? I will surely die today. I am thinking of Kostas'es garage. I could just run upstairs to get water in his kitchen, pet Mina the white cat and chat to his wife about the Sweetheart -their bed and breakfast in Western Mass. which they are trying to resurrect and start up. Whistle. Now we have to do footwork. We didn't really do that with Kostas. Damn. Long directions in German follow. I am told: "forward!". OK, forward I go. And then backward and to the side. Then the same with punches. Muscles starting to get tired. I realize I have no idea how long the training will be. Hour? Two hours? Oh great. Now we're running sideways in a circle. When the sadist whistles, we have to jump forward, punch, and run immediately in the opposite direction. Good god. Now the other arm. Then both arms. It's taking at least half an hour and all of my energy. When I think I am about to plop on the ground unconscious, it's over. Since I didn't bring any water I drag myself into the showers and find a hose there. Pretty nasty, but do I care? If I could survive tap water in Morocco, Turkey, and India, not to mention gypsy settlements in Eastern Slovakia, I can drink from a mildewy hose in Vienna. I go back to ask about next trainings, cost, and such. Turns out there's a bonus session for those who want - 10 stations where one lifts weights, wriggles with medicine ball, or jumps about for thirty seconds. Then on to the next station. Can I decline and say "no, that would certainly be the death of me"? No, I cannot. So I play along. Station 3 is pushups on a medicine ball. I cannot do pushups! Turns out that I can, when the brutish trainer Schwarz hovers right over me. By station 5 I feel positively light-headed and by station 8 I can see stars in front of my eyes. After that I give up. I would really faint. Or throw up. That would not be a good start.
Trainer praises me for 'being strong as a horse' (just what every girl dreams to hear) and tells me we need to work on the technique if I want to go into the ring - as in, compete in real boxing matches. Wot? Me? I look doubtful but he hardly notices me. Come three times a week for a beginning, then we'll up it to every day... Harrumph. Hopefully I will earn a ton of money in boxing matches and be able to pay someone to finish the darned dissertation that I came to write in Vienna. Now if you excuse me I gotta go lie down. Cannot sit straight. Or type.