Thursday, February 14, 2013

Pre-Valentine Day's Training

 Reygie (working the bag in the above photo) passed a difficult test to become certified as a personal trainer.  He still has to take another test to get an extra certification, but he can now get work as a trainer.

Walter thought I was 42 years old.  People often think I'm younger than I am, but I thought to myself that I must be showing my age more these days.  Forty-two is nine years younger than I actually am.  People used to guess me to be twenty years younger.  Oh, well.  .  .the fountain of youth had to run dry on me at some point. 

Kenny did double duty, sparring and coaching.  In the picture above, he ducked as Sarah threw a left. 

He also sparred with Brandy, who got some punches in at Kenny's head.  I was watching closely, trying to figure out how she was able to do that.

You see, I had sparred with Kenny on Wednesday, too.  As usual, Alan had to remind me not to chase Kenny around the ring.  Kenny reminded me to time my overhand right to counter his left jab.  I got it in once.  "Don't walk straight in!  Work the angles," Kenny said, indicating that I should side step him, and throw hooks.  It worked once or twice, but my timing was off again after that.  "You did much better, Hillari, not as aggressive like the other day, but it was still good," he said afterwards.  "I need to be pushed more because I get lazy," I said.  "Keep sparring with fast guys like me, and you will get better.  We'll work on it," Kenny said.

Kenny also sparred with Paul for a couple of rounds.  He was giving a lot of tips to Paul in-between the punches.

The subject of the Ringside Boxing Tournament came up.  That takes place in Kansas City each summer, and they have matches available for all ages, including those of us who are over 35 years of age.  "We should get a group and go to that tournament!  Hillari could fight someone her age.  I know she would knock those b*&%#es heads off!" Kenny said.  "She fights people here," Alan said.  "Have you ever fought someone your age?" Colonel asked.  "No!"  Kenny said.  "Never.  The last person I fought was 17 years old," I said, backing up Kenny's answer.

I got excited about the thought of having a Master's Division bout.  Then later, the dream crashed when I remembered that I can't get an amateur boxing license anymore due to diabetes.  I always forget about that detail.  Sigh. . . .

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