My new-old favorite workout

For some reason I never entirely understood, I've always been enthralled with kickboxing. While I don't exactly have the demeanor to pummel someone into submission, I definitely have the wherewithal to beat the stuffing out of a heavy bag.

So when I saw kickboxing classes offered at the local YMCA some seven years ago, I signed up.

It was officially one of the most empowering, emboldening, and downright coolest things I've ever done with my body. Like many overweight folks, I have a lot of power; my legs are strong by virtue of carrying my body weight around. It was liberating to find an exercise in which I could not only participate, but excel.

I may have been surrounded by beautiful, skinny, high school cheerleaders, but in that class, I was queen.

The class didn't last long, only ten weeks, but ever since then I've been missing it. Seven years is a long time to miss something.

Tonight, I decided to do something about it. Something easy, something free, and something sure to make my back and arms scream for delicious, delicious mercy.

I shadow-boxed.

Shadow boxing is typically regarded as a warm-up. It's something you do before you step up to a bag, or before you move onto other training. But tonight, darn it, I wanted to make it count.

I put myself through the paces of warm-up: static and dynamic stretching, then some core work in the form of crunches and a feeble plank (that's just got to get better someday). The weight room where I was working at the gym was starting to fill up, so I grabbed a set of weights and staked my claim on a patch of carpet in front of the mirror.

Starting with three-pound dumbbells, I went through the jabs, dancing back and forth as much as I dared when surrounded by ladies who wanted the prime real estate I was taking up. A minute of boxing alternated with a set of squats to keep my body moving, repeated several times. I was sweating in less than five minutes.

Don't ever let anyone shame you for using three-pound weights. After a few reps, those things get heavy. Like, really heavy.

I wasn't satisfied to leave it at that, and before I'd spent my shoulders I picked up the five-pounders. I put in another few minutes before finally giving in and dropping the weights. Once I saw my jabs drooping below my shoulder line in the mirror, I knew it was time to give it a rest.

That was nearly two hours ago and my traps are still dancing like giddy schoolgirls.

Tonight was, without a doubt, the most fun I've had yet in the gym. I've promised myself that, when I hit that glorious 200lb mark, I'll be gifting myself with some gloves and a bag to put in the garage.

Meanwhile, you better believe I'll be boxing again, in my little corner of the gym.