Tonight, I got to wrap my fists, fit my red gloves on and bang the heavy bag at will.
Punches would fly and so as my sweat. By the second or third round, the bag and gloves would be slippery with sweat. I would then be gasping for breath and noticeably, the punches get lighter and a tad slower.
Every second becomes much slower as I gaze upon my 3-minute timer hoping it reaches the 3-minute mark soon enough. For a 30-second rest. For water. For a brief moment to wipe off the sweat off my face.
Then the next round begins.
"Move your feet.
Faster jabs.
Arms up high.
Throw the jab. Double time.
Move your feet.
Power. Show me some power."
That was actually me telling myself to rise up a notch and punish the heavy bag.
OK. Last round. "Empty your tank and show me everything you've got."
By the end of the last 3-minute round..
The bag is covered in sweat but still swinging around and ready for more.
I would then be all tired and thirsty..
And clapping the gloves together in appreciation of another satisfying Friday night fight.
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