My friend the Polish Princess is my ticket to any kind of social life here, seriously, because I find myself resorting back to my old ways I cursed about in Korea -- being a workaholic. My weekdays consist of boxing and coaching the morning and then weight training in the early evening. I fill my afternoons up with running errands, chores, napping, and doing some volunteer work. Mind you, everything I do is directed by, focused on, and connected to my training. My errands consist of things like getting groceries to fuel my training and reading up on nutritional stuff of fitness articles, chores consist of washing training wear and boxing business emailing, and I nap so that I can recharge my battery for my second session of training that day.
I train with the Polish Princess and by that I mean I have started to teach her boxing. I've given her some new hand wraps and next week I'm going to surprise her with some sandbag gloves. I teach her to box and she teaches me to relax.
I need to learn to relax, to kick back and relax. I need to learn to not be 24/7 about my training. Coach Brown asked me today what day I take off training and I had no answer. I box 5 days a week at my boxing club and weight train 7 days a week. I usually hit the heavy bag as my warm up before the weights though.
Tonight I headed out of town to a birthday party. The Polish Princess had invited me. I didn't know the birthday boy but know the Polish Princess enough to know it'd be a guaranteed good time. I have never not had a fabulous time with her and tonight was no exception.
...that is until I returned to Toronto and decided to make a house call to someone. I had visited him earlier and things were great. Sorry to say it but it wasn't the same when I returned some hours later. I won't go into the details of what happened because I refused to talk when the police approached me down the street. What's done is done. I shouldn't had gone there in the first place and what was said as a simple comment got misunderstood and then a massive argument exploded. The person I had gone to talk to then refused to let me leave the building so I fought my way out. My boxing glove charm and necklace ended up getting ripped off my neck in the whole scrap and I think I'm more ticked about that then anything because a friend had made it for me.
1 comment:
What the heck happened? And with who??
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