What Training Ain't

It's always a red flag when a new person has the expectation of personal training in the gym. No matter how many times Steve explains to the new people that the class is not set up for one-on-one, like he did last night, the expectation continues to exist. I worked with several of the new people, but there's always the realization that some will be gone before the month is out. Most of boxing involves self-motivation, and if some don't possess it, well, so much for that.

The place was packed last night. I enjoyed myself a lot, especially coming off of another crappy day in a week where everybody and everything at my job is working my last damn nerve. Boxing does take some of the edge of my naturally bad temper, but there's only so much I'm going to tolerate at any time.

Turned in my volunteer application to Mary last night, so I will become an official Park District volunteer soon. Don't know why I didn't do it sooner. Steve had brought it up to me at least a year or more ago.

The son of a coach at another fieldhouse has been bugging me for a date--I mentioned him a couple of posts back. We met at the Clarendon Park boxing show that took place recently. I keep dropping hints that it's not going to work--he gives the impression that he doesn't exactly look after the kid he has, there is a baby's mama on the scene, and he still lives at home with his mama. His devotion to boxing is suspect, as well. He was supposed to help his dad out while at Clarendon, but he spent his time bugging me and slapping hands with his friends. The guy may show up at the boxing show tomorrow night. If he does, I'm going to be very clear that there will be no "us". He seems like the type that won't understand "no". I would hate to have to insult him to get the message through.