The bell and the can and the bodies on the floor

I quasi-accidentally acquired a new trainer today. I was as the gym, doing my usual routine, and about to spend my last ten minutes on the heavy bag. A fitness class was using the floor, so I made sure I wasn't going to get in their way. The instructor then noticed that I have no fucking clue what I'm doing didn't have wraps, and offered to show me how to wrap my hands*. He turned out to be the ex-MMA guy who installed the bag in the first place. In between making his class do hideous lateral shuffles on the treadmill, he proceeded to give me pointers on form and technique for half an hour**. I was already feeling pretty inclined to give him money at this point, when my old trainer showed up and revealed that she's moving to California. He was well placed to catch me on the rebound.

So now I have a session on Tuesday, and will begin learning how to punch things more effectively.


* It turns out my knuckles aren't bruised and sore after ten minutes if I wrap my hands. It's like magic.

** And I didn't feel mansplained at. This should not be worthy of note, and yet...