Jumping the gun

How quickly one can get cocky. My next session. All I had been told to work on from my first session were the very basics. Footwork=balance. stance=chin down, elbows in, gloves high. Shots=lead with the jab (left), follow with the cross (right). Easy. Thats all I needed to do while walking him round the ring. But, throw in a couple more shots, left hook (which requires positioning the wrist carefully, or you’ll snap something), and “doubling-up” the jab (requiring a step forward in between shots) and the whole routine goes to shit. My rythm broken, holding my breath when throwing shots, throwing shot after shot after shot, getting dizzy, no breath, no focus, getting angry with myself, getting angry with Nigel. Why the f**k did I have a smoke before I came in today? Idiot. Time out.

..and hiding in the red corner…

The time finally came. 10 am this morning, after sliding through the snow on my scooter and wanting desperately to be back in the warmth of my bed, I stepped into the boxing gym for my first one-to-one session with my trainer, Nigel. As I changed into my running-gear, I became acutely aware of a long list of my short-comings. And these were just the ones I knew about. What about all the new ones waiting to be discovered on my first entry into the ring? I felt like a big girls blouse. But I cant say that, or think it. They train girls in boxing here. I could get thrown around like a damp rag by a girl down here. One thing about this gym is that they will train anyone (as long as the sufficient fitness level is there). I’ve been looking at footage of Laila Ali, Errin Toughill, Shelly Burton, Nikki Epilon and other top class female fighters and have been woken up to the lack of novelty value that I was expecting to find in the womens arena. I had watched some female boxing before, but the boxers in question were trying their hand at it and were not primed and on top of their technique, so it looked awkward and wrong. I was watching the wrong footage (or wearing the wrong trousers). From what I have now seen, there is more room for a big debate on whether female boxing has a place. Or should I say there is no need for a debate, they seem to know what they’re doing. And boy do they know how to box! Anyway, less of the girls blouse, maybe more of the great pretender! At least, thats how I felt.
After being strapped up (hands, more of this later…), and put through a few of the basics about stance, balance and defencive guards, it was gloves on and in the ring.
as much as I would love to give you a second-by-second account of what went on throughout the session, I shall spare you that as i would be on it for weeks!
In short, it was all about geography(?). Learning the ring, its obvious. Dominate the centre, keep away from the corners, and try to keep your opponent walking backwards. Chase him down, …….but dont get hit. Breathe when you hit (not easy), plant your feet, keep movement in your legs, relax shoulders. Punch and move, punch and move, focus focus focus, ding ding, now recoup in one minute, breathe breathe sweat sweat, loosen up, big breath, ding ding, back in……
soon enough, my time was up and sore as I was, I couldn’t have been happier. Never has my entire being been as employed and stretched to capacity like that.
Nigel reckons I coped quite well. I’ll take his word for it!
With regards the wrapping of the hands, there was a seminal moment, as nervous and excited as I was, standing next to my heavyweight trainer, a boy next to a man, the delicacy of his attention to wrapping my skinny hands (nervously shaking), with his battle worn “anvils”. Something to behold.

Self-defence

Something I’ve been playing with. A bit rough, just wanted to see if it would work. Needs to be choreographed but an idea nonetheless…

Art of impact

Go on fella….

picture-4.pdf

Mother(f***ing) nature

Kissing cousins…

Seeing is believing?

In theory, not a comfortable topic. Not so strange once you have a look…