Blogging
From Abroad

My roommate Eszti has a monthly aerobics membership to a local gym and offered me her pass for the day. I opted for a class at 6:30 and assumed it would be a “let’s dance and have fun. Yahoo aerobics! kind of class” but when I walked into the lobby I quickly realized it would be far from it.

The lobby was filled with women AND men each of them with their hands wrapped in athletic wrap, 0% body fat, and had so much muscle definition in their arms that screamed: don’t mess with me. I guess the schedule in Hungarian read 6:30- kickboxing. Oops!

I had never been to a kickboxing class but the timing couldn’t have been more perfect. Ladies and gents, I found the cure for anger: a punching bag. There is something empowering when you wrap your knuckles then complete a combination of uppercut right, side kick with the left.

30 minutes into that class, I was saying all sorts of things in my mind. I didn’t realize just how much anger I was holding inside. As I punched the bag I said things like:

This is for the fact that I suck at speaking Hungarian

This is for my communication teacher that forgot to show up to class – twice

This is for the fact that I haven’t completed my research paper

This is for the fact that I have no idea what I’ll be doing next year.

And the worst?
This is for my 7-year-old cousin who was just diagnosed with cancer

I left the class, totally refreshed, ready to take on tomorrow. An hour of anger releasing was just what I needed.