Choose sweat over beer

I’m in the FIGHT center by myself, just me and the heavy bag alone in the corner. The large room is dimly lit from a distant light in the back and from a few orange rays from the setting sun breaking through the glass front door. The only sounds are my breathing, thud after thud from my gloves impacting the bag and the creaking of the steel chains as the sack of leather and stuffing jerks and swings from my barrage. The bag moves toward me and I slip to the left. The bag moves away and I land a 1-2 combination. The bag moves toward me and I slip to the right, pivot and land a devastating hook to the body, and on the walls around me this motion is recast in shadows of my legs dancing and my arms firing like pistons.

At least that’s how I envisioned my Friday afternoon, alone in the FIGHT center without any scheduled classes that day, getting some much needed practice on the bags. But my plans were foiled by a simple text message, a few aches and pains, and my overactive imagination.

The text from my friend asked: Wings? And then, in my mind, the image that played was a warm bar on a cold day, and the bar was filled with beautiful women who were all incredibly interested in everything I had to say and with every beer my wit and humor only grew and after my fifth beer and my belly full of delicious chicken wings, a dark-haired woman approached me, took the stool to my left and asked if I wanted to buy her a beer.

Well, the wings were so-so. The only woman in the bar was with her boyfriend and I had to stop at three beers because I was driving. And later that night the wings had given me indigestion and the beer left me with a vague ache in my head.

The moral of this story: Even if you’re tired and have some aches and pains and your friend tempts you with chicken wings, just go do your workout. Just go do your workout because even a bad workout is better than an ok time at the bar.