Me vs. My Health

The ring is fixed.  The ropes are back up, and everybody hopes they stay that way for awhile.  When I got to the field house Wednesday evening, Colonel asked me to help ask a staff person to get some soap and water so he could clean the ring canvas.  Cynthia and Mary found some cleaner, and Colonel mopped the canvas.  It really needed it.  Alan went over it with paper towels to make sure it dried up.

I was feeling up with energy, but that disappeared halfway into another sparring session with Sarah.  My hands stayed up so my head didn't take much damage.  But I was huffing and puffing like a big dog.  We stopped after two rounds.  "I've seen you tired before, Hillari, but never like that.  Why?" Alan asked afterwards.  "It's a combination of things," I told him.

The day before, I had to get a checkup in order for the doctor to refill my prescriptions.   My meds ran out a couple of weeks ago, but the clinic couldn't give me an appointment sooner.  The scale read 197 pounds.  That can't be right, I thought to myself.  I had left my shoes on, and I was wearing a hat when I stepped on the scale.  I assumed those added the extra weight.  The doctor looked at my chart, and he told me that I need to lose weight (which by now is a broken record phrase; I hear it each time I see a doctor).  "The blood pressure is a little too high, too," he announced.  My left foot is swollen,  a condition which has happened on and off for years.  The doctors I've seen over the years have always been concerned about it, but they've haven't recommended much as to how to stop it.  I have noticed that the high blood pressure meds help keep the swelling down.  My late sister used to tell me that she thought the swelling had something to do with my heart.  Now my right foot swells up from time to time, too, but never like the left foot, which looks like a brick right now. 

As the doctor went on with his light admonishment, I felt a little like Dad used to feel when doctors told him to pay attention to his health.  My late father would get on the outside of the doctor's office and grumble about how the doctor didn't know anything.  I couldn't really grumble.  The weight gain is no doubt the effect of me not cooking 95% of the time and eating out.  I also didn't exactly take the doctor's suggestion from my last visit to add more days of exercise, other than the couple of days I go to Loyola Park.  Oh, I've made attempts this year, but I've also made excuses:  it's too hot, I'm tired, I'm busy doing something else, etc.

Ray and his friend Colette couldn't believe what the doctor said about my weight gain.  Neither could Alan.  "I don't see it," Ray said.  I explained how my poor cooking skills probably contributed to the pounds creeping up on me.  "I could see if he said a few pounds," Ray continued, "but fourteen in such a short period of time?" "It's also probably hormonal stuff due to menopause," I said, remembering an article I read about menopause weight gain not long ago.  "But, still, you move around in here every week," Alan said.

"Eh, I'm fighting age, too," I said.  Ray looked at both Alan and I.  "Don't start that 'age' shit.  Come on, now," he said.  "You're right.  I need to stop bringing that up," I agreed with him.  I'm still well enough to come down to the gym and bang on people and get banged on, so I can't be too far gone.  "You and Alan last longer than some younger people I know.  I've seen 17 and 18 year old guys give up after just 30 seconds in the ring," Ray said.  While Alan was sparring with Jacob earlier, I overheard Ray praising Alan to Marcus about the older man's skills in the ring.

Alan backed Jacob into a corner, and threw a flurry of punches.  Jacob's head gear flew off his head and out of the ring, but Jacob kept answering Alan's punches.  Sarah and I were suited up, waiting for our turn to spar, and our mouths flew wide open.  Ray put Jacob's head gear back on.  "Hell, yeah!  That's what I'm talking about!  The gear came off, but that didn't stop him from fighting!  That's right!" Ray exclaimed.  "My goodness!" I said in amazement, then I started laughing.  I was still laughing just before the bell rang to start the first round between Sarah and I.  

Amy plans to spar on Monday.  She was waiting for the ring to be fixed because she didn't want to spar without the ropes being back up.  I don't blame her.  It was hard going trying to spar and watch out for the downed ropes at the same time.  "All she needs is a mouthpiece, and she'll have that by next week," her sister Sarah smiled.

The clip above is a very short portion of a round between Marcus and Oscar (Oscar is the shorter guy).  Unfortunately, the card on my camera ran out of room, so I didn't get it all.  Marcus did two rounds with Oscar.  He was getting hit a lot because his hands were down.  Also, Oscar had a lot of energy that evening, as he danced around and away from most of Marcus' punches.  But I have to give Marcus a 'A' for effort because he soldiered on during the rounds.