Enemy?! What is everyone talking crazy for? This is just for FUN!

And at that moment, young man boy threw a kick to his opponent’s head and it landed right on his nose! Blood was spurting out everywhere and by sound of it, it was broken for sure.

Oh my goodness, what did I sign up for? Was this some secret underground fight club and only one person was supposed to come out alive? Did my husband secretly arrange for me to be here when he was out of town to teach me a lesson? I'm not that competitive!

I started praying. Please don't let me bleed too much. I just got this uniform and blood is so hard to get out. Lord I will be nice when we play card games at home from now on!

I looked over at my secret movie pal, Siskel, now with fear in my face. Luckily she had same look in her eyes.

Fortunately for both of us, there is a lot less rage, stamina, and oxygen for that matter, in over forty women's division.

We both went out to middle. We shook hands and bowed. When they said "Sijak" which means "begin" in Korean, but always reminds me of Pat Sajak and makes me want to buy a vowel, we began.

Punch, kick, punch...huff, puff, huff puff. Kick kick kick. Whew, huff, puff. I don't know what it looked like from side, but it definitely didn't feel like ultimate fighting match we had just seen before us.

All of a sudden, Siskel threw a pretty solid punch at my chest, and then she immediately said, "Oh, sorry!"

I busted up. I laughed at thought of us, two ladies who should be exchanging movie reviews and recipes for desserts, out here punching and kicking each other and then apologizing for it. I laughed so hard, my mouthpiece came flying out onto mat and then she started laughing. She said at least it wasn't my teeth! I got a side cramp. They had to call time so we could compose ourselves.

We finished three rounds and score was 8 points to 4. I took home a gold medal and realized it WAS FUN!

I only wish I had video taped match so perhaps my husband would lift ban on my playing in game night!

© Gina Schreck is the “Cheerman of the Bored” and she helps people Reconnect with What Matters Most! She is the author of several books, including Inside Out Success: Reconnecting with What Matters Most, and Marriage Mechanics: A Tune Up for the Highway of Love! She speaks to organizations that want to improve relationships from the inside out. To contact Gina, call 303-978-0887 or check out her website at http://www.schrecktalk.com/

You’re thinking that I had only myself to blame, that not to stop and ask for directions is typical of a man. Well, I swear, I was just about to when I heard, in distance, what sounded like swift currents of a babbling brook. Groping my way toward sound it increased in volume until it was a deafening roar and I knew I was directly above its source. Reasonably confident that I’d located Peggie’s stomach, I paused to collect myself and survey my surroundings. In absence of a compass I was looking for some sort of marker with which to establish my coordinates. When I noticed that horizon ahead of me was blocked by an especially pronounced elevation in terrain, I reasoned that I was likely facing north. With a cautious optimism I began, then, to crawl slowly backwards. You can imagine rush I got when before too long my toes were caressed by a soft and lush foliage, and then bathed in gentle bubbling of a warm spring.

I was at last at pleasure grove.

Feeling like a world-beater, I was glowing with a sense of accomplishment and I have to confess that I indulged myself in a moment of pride. Relying on my instincts and wit, persevering in face of exceptional difficulties, I had achieved an elusive goal other men would certainly have given up on. The moment was short-lived however. After effecting penetration my mettle was tested some more. Twice I was jettisoned (and put in jeopardy of becoming a ceiling fixture) by astonishing power of Peggie’s pelvic motion. It was really disappointing. Each time I was forced to go back to square one and I had to reach deep inside myself for a stick-to-itiveness that I wasn’t at all sure I possessed. But I hung tough and on my third expedition, with my eyes now accustomed to dark, I was recognizing landmarks and proceeding with dispatch. At treasure chest within minutes, I managed, this time, to more or less stay put and, let me tell you, like clinging to back of a great whale in a high sea, those final seconds were every bit as exhilarating as Splash Mountain ride at Disney World.

In morning, Peggie, cheery and humming to herself (doubtless never before object of such committed attention), seemed unaware of my odyssey. After eating a cake, and washing it down with a quart of chocolate milk, she asked me if she could take a time-delay Polaroid of two of us naked in bed. (Should you ever come across this picture, I am in it. That’s top of my head, not a puppy, just behind her left ankle.) Then she announced that she was cutting her trip short and returning home. There was no reason, she said, to remain in New York now, because no big-city experience that she might imagine could possibly surpass her night with me.

Having completed my mission and worried she’d suggest that we get together again, I was enormously relieved by and immediately supportive of her decision.

As I departed though, I did sense from her expression that she was maybe a little ambivalent about changing her plans; that she was thinking of something she might later regret missing. Not wishing to prolong moment I chose not to ask any questions, so I’ll never know just what thing was. Yes, it could have been Transit Museum or Edgar Allan Poe Cottage. But I suspect that more likely on her mind was forgoing chance to discover a new food group.