I went up to Boxing yesterday a bit blue. But nothing like doing heavy bag for 20 minutes or more to get the endorphins going. I developed a six punch combo for both hands, a sixteen punch combo and a 52 punch combo (this will be my secret weapon, like in the films when the coach goes, “She's turning it around, look, look: she’s doing the 52 punch combo!” And then my opponent falls unconscious to the floor – except I am a pacifist, just not a very convincing one).
I did bouts with a) a male kickboxer, b) a girl scared to hit me, so I had her practice hitting my head. Linda is watching me type this and just shouted: “She was a QUICK learner!” and c) R., a woman with the hardest, leanest arm muscles of anyone I have boxed who gave me a very good hook, and while trying to help her in practice of a single block and jab move, she misunderstood and stepped in to give me a full roundhouse to the head. Oh did I hear bells. I seriously think she would have broken my nose if she hit lower.
Good news is that I have better memory today. I just keep tipping over and slurring my words. But I laugh a lot, which is good. Coach Ian kept yelling at me to breathe (by which he means, ‘take a five second break’), and at one point jumped in front of me yelling ‘BREATH’. My muddled mind thought, “Do I try to hit Ian while he ducks?" And kept working on my combinations, until he grabbed my hands. “Breathe”
Ian: “You aren’t doing 12 rounds you know.”
Me: “No. So Ian, can you prepare me for a 20 round bout?”
Ian: “Some guys only do ONE bout.”
Me: “How about 45 rounds, like the Canadian that beat Jack Johnson in Cuba?!”
Ian: “Hey, where is your oxygen?”
So that was boxing. It hurt last night. I had funny dreams and moaned a lot.
Today I went to the library and wheeled home, so that I do not get slothful. Because that’s me, right, slothful.
Then came the Thanksgiving Surprise: Someone came over and dropped off this a few minutes ago, which wasn’t from them, we don’t know who it is from. But thank you.
This holds: Turkey Breast, buns, Coleslaw, wine, apple sparkling drink, instant mashed potatoes, gravy mix, can beans, can peas, can corn, cranberry sauce, taffy, chocolate, MINT GIRL SCOUT COOKIES, hot chocolate and apple pie.
That’s a whole Thanksgiving feast.
I started crying writing that list, because the idea that someone I never met could care so much about us, so that we could have a thanksgiving dinner. It is everything I wanted to believe in people: amazing, kind and generous.
There is a friend, a guy in the building who can’t get around because he is waiting on the same health system to see if they will give him a heart operation or just let him die, him and his two bachelor boys. So we are going to invite them up to have thanksgiving dinner with us. Because caring should beget caring, I think. So somehow, for those who have no thanksgiving plans, and we know all the people with disabilities here, we will try to have a real family dinner.
I did not think I asked for help, because stuff is what it is, and I know that a lot of people are going through sucky times right now. We paid for our computer repairs with snacks (rice crispy squares) and small gifts, and he said, “Next time it will have to be money.” Yeah, but right now, I have a computer and as much as I love the soup I’ve been having the last couple days, having something other than soup sounds pretty good.
Thanks to everyone who gave a thanksgiving surprise, we will try to pass it on. I wish I could have you all over. But we got excited at this tangible food in front of us because – someone came to our door…and there was food. So we were like, 'let's take a picture!' That’s cool. I was so happy, I lost balance and fell against the wall. Next time, less ‘whack a Beth’ at boxing I think.