Climax

I haven't done this for quite some time. Long before Christmas in fact. And the whole vacation, i felt something was missing -- that rush of blood to the head, the drumming of my heart against its cage, the shortness of breath, the feeling of exhiliration.

I knew when I took my first step into that room, I would be facing one of my great fears. How do you do this again? How do you pick up as if nothing happened, as if starting tabula rasa but really not. After years of doing it on and off, I was apprehensive if I could perform well again. I knew after I commit to doing it, my body would ache the next day. I may not be able to move with the pain coursing through me. But I did it anyway. I knew I had to do it.

Slowly, I started stretching. Feeling the warm blood rush through my body. I can feel my heart beat start to pick up, as if revving up for a race. Trying to get the kinks out of my joints, I patiently go through the routine. The sweat starting to gather on my brow. I told my partner that we should take it slow, take it one step at a time. So we play around for a while. Taking little steps, dancing around as if children in their first play group. I try to control my breath and my heart. Inhale, exhale. Slowly getting the rythm. Trying desperately not to push my body to do something it hasn't done for a while. From one position to another, I try to familiarize myself again to the rounds. I can feel my hands clenched into fists as I wrap my fingers against black satin. With full concentration, I push a little harder. Inhaling, exhaling, taking deep breaths. I feel the sweat travelling down my body, trickling down the valley of my breasts as the breaths come quicker, the rhythm becoming clearer. I take a step back, then two steps forward. The sweat now dripping to the red floor, droplets of water covering me, making us both slick.

I take a break. And though it's so painful, I know I had to finish it, or else I won't get what I went there for in the first place. So I take it slow again. One step, then another. Can't wait til it can end. Patience. Just a little more patience and it will over, and the exhiliration will wash over me. Just a little more and I think I can get past the pain. So we're at it again. This time, as if knowing it will finish soon, the moves become more calculated, deliberate and frantic. Screaming with every forceful blow. Delivering the last hit, I try hard not to collapse. Finally, the last ounce of strength wasted.

After everything was over and done with, I get a cigarette and take a long drag. Too exhausted to even want to stand.

Gawd, I missed boxing. I just wish I can drag myself out of bed early tomorrow to do it again.