3 Dates 3 Months Gets Physical!
3 Dates 3 Months challenger Laurie, otherwise known as My Potential One True Love took her search for a date to the gym. But she wasn’t searching for love on the treadmill, she went boxing! Read on to find out what happened…
Last week I attempted, attempted being a key word here, to pick up a guy at my boxing class. You may remember that I am going on 3 dates in 3 months ( #3dates3mths) as part of a little experiment from JustSingles.com – this was meant to be date 1. Here is what I thought would happen:
I would do a bit of skipping, I would pretend to do some boxing, a guy would try to help me – a bit like the ghost scene – come up behind me, take my gloved hands and teach me, then, overcome with passion, wanting and desiring, would slip me one, turn me around and kiss me.
The reality of what happened was SLIGHTLY different.
First things first- As not a massive fan of any light, the thought of talking to a boy in not only light, but the kind of light that I imagine HELL to have (fluorescent lights) did not fill me with glee. You know the light that is a little darker than dusk, well in that I look a 6/10. Fluorescent devil light on the other hand shows off my moustache, lady beard – we ALL have one jeez, and, years of fake tan errors. Sweet. Just the look that you want when you are trying to allure a man. But, surprisingly, far from men running away shouting- “Get away bearded cat lady” when I walked into the ring – men still talked to me and I even managed to find a partner for sparring.
Lesson 1 – Men don’t notice beards. Instead of running away screaming, the guys talked to me about normal stuff. They showed me what to do. They motivated me. They were, nice. Perhaps men aren’t only interested in looks.
Second worry – I usually pick up guys (sorry that makes me sound like a man eater) by being a bit weak and squeaky. A 3 hour boxing class is not the right time to be squeaky. At boxing you are praised for spitting in a bucket and skipping, not talking about puppies and hair ties which is my usual tactic. So for three hours I kept my chin down, pinned my arms to my sides, and punched the crap out of the boxing bag. In between rounds, during my 10 second breaks I started to think – men I have dated have not seen this side to me. I have always been a gym bunny but this has been an activity I have done alone – for fear that men wouldn’t fancy me with a sweaty brow and under tit sweat marks.
Lesson 2 – The men at boxing judge you for your upper cut and jabs, not your lip gloss and nails. It was a revelation to me that I could be strong, skilled and powerful, not squeaky and perfect.
Third worry – my body. As a pretty much male only boxing gym, run by an ex champion of the world or something – everyone that trains there has their shit together. Strong, lean and amazing at skipping. I am scrawny, bottom heavy and look like girl. When they skipped, they were light on their feet, in time and graceful. I wasn’t. My boy tits did not move up and down at all – I didn’t even need a sports bra. Also my nose would not stop running. Fit. And I could just about manage 20 seconds of loudly jumping. I was so embarrassed and kept stressing that people would be judging me.
Lesson 3 – As I was stressing about the arse, thighs and the fact my nose was running like a bitch, I looked around to see that it didn’t matter. People were focusing on themselves. I realised at that moment that I have to drop this self awareness in dating, in life, and in boxing – no one noticed or cared what I was doing. They were probably worrying about their winky willies moving up and down too much, or not enough! We all have stresses, whether we are skipping or dating. Immediately when I started focusing on me, my skipping improved and I got out what I put in.
After 3 hours, I was sweaty, my hair was frizzy, every single fake nail has pinged off, and I had spat in a bucket 3 times. But I was endorphined up to the max. I had dropped my self-awareness and worked like out to exhaustion. As I picked up my bags to leave, one of my sparring partners, quite a cute guy actually, said he hoped to see me next week. Walking to my car, I replied that indeed he would. So I didn’t get a date Just Singles – but that is OK right…. there is always next week.
Until next time,
The Just Singles Team.