Not trusting the squiffy supporting structures in this house, I thought it would behoove me to purchase a stand to go with my new punching bag instead of hanging it from a beam in the basement.
Of course, I always carry a measuring tape in my purse.
Did I use it?
Nooooooo. That would involve intelligence. I instead “eyeballed it”. I stood in my basement and reached up and touched the ceiling. I then reached up and touched the top of the stand while at the store and went “hmmm. It’ll be close but I think it will be ok.”
And then we got it all in the basement and started putting it together.
All I can say is two inches can be a bitch.
Two frickin’ inches.
So, my first real workout will be emptying out the garage of all the crap that I will be sending to the dump anyway. I’ll be swinging a sledge hammer and breaking up the last of his crap. Then, and only then, will I bring the stand into the garage and begin to set up our family gym.
I believe I will call it “Silvers”.
Complete with my new best friend “Punchy”.