Intervals With Diana

Both Alan and I asked Diana separately last night, "Do you have a mouthpiece?"  Before she went on vacation a couple of weeks ago, she stated that she would buy one while she was away.  She didn't have one with her yesterday.  "I don't think I'm ready," she told Alan when he asked her about sparring. 

I sparred with Jamil for three, count 'em, three whole rounds.  I haven't done that many rounds with anyone for a long, long, time.  "Good for you," Alan said, when I told him I would do a third round.  I practiced picking out my shots, but I was favoring body shots over head shots.  A few times I backed Jamil into a corner with side shots.  He grabbed me to stop my momemtum.  "Break!" Alan called out.

"So you're no longer nervous about fighting with the guys?" Diana asked me.  "I always fought boys.  I can count the fights I've had with girls when I was in grade and high school on four fingers," I told her.  They may have been a few more than that, but not much.  I hated fighting with girls when I was a kid.  They would swing their arms like windmills, throwing wild and sloppy punches.  I really got mad when they resorted to scratching.  That would set me off like Curly in that Three Stooges short where he would go nuts whenever, "Pop Goes The Weasel" was played.  Luckily, my mother taught me how to throw punches.  Once the scratching started, I would step back for a moment, watch for an opening, then zap them with a right or a left.  "Now, scratch me again, expleted deleted!" I'd yell. 

Alan suggested that Diana and I do a "burn out" (interval training) on the heavy bag.  Alan is a nice guy, but I noticed last night that he can really bark orders out.  "Time!  Go, go, go!  You gotta be quick!  Don't stop!  Keep those hands up!  Don't lose your form!" he repeated throughout the rounds.  Diana was a little slow about switching off to hold the bag for me when it was my turn.  She did pick up the pace of her punches when it was her 15 seconds on the bag, however. 

Most of the guys were MIA again last night.  Jamil, Donald and Ralphie were there.  While Ralphie sparred with Jamil, I noticed he'd put his left elbow up to ward off Jamil's right punches.  "Is that legal?" I asked him after they finished.  Ralphie laughed.  "I don't know if it's legal or not," he answered.  "What's that?" Alan asked.  "Hillari said I was hitting Jamil with my elbow," Ralphie said.  "No, he wasn't hitting him with it, just using it to defend against him," I said to Alan.

Later, as Alan drove me home, he grinned about his wife knowing him "like a book".  "I'd answer a question of hers, and she'd say, 'You're lying, Alan.'  I asked her how could she tell, ad she said it was a look that I got on my face that gave me away," he shook his head.  "Well, you also know how we women tend to remember things you told us 10 or 15 years ago.  We remember what you were wearing when you said it, what date it was, what day it was, and so on," I grinned.  "Yeah, how in the world do you all remember that stuff?  I just figured the best way not to get my wife mad is tell the truth," he said.