Week 7: The wall, the weight, and the waiting game

Alright, week 7 has descended upon me, leaving me feeling like I've hit the metaphorical wall—both mentally and physically. I have a newfound respect for athletes in their 30's, because let me tell you, recovery is not easy these days! But all is not lost, I definitely spy a glimmer of hope shining through the sweat-soaked haze.

First things first, let's talk about the elephant in the room (or should I say, the elephant on the scale). Despite my best efforts, my weight remains as stubborn as a mule in a tug-of-war, sitting at a steady 100.4kgs. While training I've been sweating so much, but still no change on the scale. But hey, my fiance is telling me I look like a snack, so that's a win, right?

Now, onto the main event: the boxing itself. Week after week, I've been soaking up knowledge like a sponge in a rainstorm, and let me tell you, I'm starting to feel like a regular Muhammad Ali in the making. Okay, maybe not quite, but a guy can dream, can't he? With each jab, hook, and dodge, my confidence is growing... I'm even getting used to get punched straight to the nose! Who would have thought!

But hold onto your gloves, because here comes the plot twist. As I bask in the glory of my newfound boxing prowess, the realisation dawns on me: fight night is getting closer. Cue the dramatic music and the sweaty palms because the thought of stepping into that ring is enough to send shivers down my spine. But hey, fear is just a four-letter word, right?

As I gear up for the next few weeks of training, I find myself honing not only my boxing skills but also my dance moves. After all, what's a fight without a little fancy footwork to keep things interesting? A little taunting never hurt nobody?