Muay Thai and a 5k Run

This weekend was interesting. I've wanted to take up Capoeira or Krav Maga for a while, so what do I do? I go and sign up for Muay Thai classes instead. I know, the way my brain works is pretty darn amazing.

R (I managed to convince him to join me) and I had our first introductory trial class on Saturday and it was a combination of giggles, sweat and breathlessness. The instructor who took us was Thai and had the strongest Thai accent. Which effectively meant, I didn't get half of what he said and R got even less. For some reason, I found that funny. That obviously didn't bode so well with the instructor who probably thought I wasn't taking anything seriously (which he was half right). Long story short, the whole session smelt like a boot camp. We ended with push-ups and sit-ups and by then I had run out of energy to laugh over anything. R and I were exhausted after the class...ane we read that as a really good work-out. So...next thing we know, we've signed up for 31 classes and have committed ourselves to 1 session a week. I suspect that R's motivation was mostly driven by the prata shop below the school and the fact that he could have a weekly prata guilt-free after a hard work-out.

Sunday was a bag of fun. I woke up and realised I couldn't extend my left arm without it aching. My thighs, calves and feet were also hurting, although I wasn't sure if that was because I was traipsing around on Saturday night in high heels or because of muay thai. Now all this would be a good enough excuse for me to just laze around all Sunday, but thanks to the stupid 10k Mt Faber run in less than a week and my complete lack of running training in the past few weeks, I had to haul my lazy ass out the house. It sounds like I came to this decision on my own, but in reality I was more than happy convincing myself I'd wake up really early on Monday and run then (yeah, right). R had to guilt-trip me into running over to his and it was NOT a fun run at all. First off, Sixth Avenue (which I had to run through) was just almost uphill all the way. I was more or less ready to throw in the towel at the end of the Sixth Avenue stretch, but didn't want to suffer the humiliation of hailing a cab to a place less than 5 minutes away. So I sucked it up and stuck it out and made it to R's. Throughout the entire run, there was not once that my stitch wasn't there to stick it in me. Bah. I wasn't a happy camper.

So here I am today, nothing much has changed. I'm still aching waist down, my arm is still unable to extend fully and I have a muay thai session some number of hours away. Happy days.

What I did over the weekend:
Saturday: 50 minutes of muay thai
Sunday: Ran 5k in 40 mins