Chill Time In The Gym

Stephanie asked, "Why aren't that many people here?"  Over past weekend, temperatures reached as high as 71 degrees.  But today, it was snowing with temperatures in the 30s.  This is typical of Chicago weather this time of year.  I figured the snow would keep some people out, even though not much of it fell nor stuck to the ground.

Alan was out because this is the first day of Passover.  If I had remembered, I would have reminded Alan earlier to put in a time-off request with Mary.  I had forgotten about Palm Sunday; I made a rare appearance at Rogers Park Baptist Church during the weekend.  It didn't dawn on me what day it was until I noticed that everyone had crosses pinned to their clothes.

Carolyn opened up the gym when I got there.  I was the first person in.  Igor showed up next, followed by Brandy, Stephanie, and Diana.  Patrick, Keith, and Colonel came in after them.  I told everyone about Andres' win at the Chicago Golden Gloves.  Colonel told people about the Police vs. Firefighters tournament that had also taken place over the weekend.  The police won.  "There were nine fights and the fire fighters lost six of them!  I need to come back and coach them," Colonel said, shaking his head.  Colonel is retired from the Chicago Fire Department.

Professor held the punch mitts for whoever wanted to get the practice.  I would have taken him up on it, but both of my knees were grumbling.  The last few times of me sparring, plus working Andres' corner at the Golden Gloves really did a number on them.  In the photo above, Keith stands on the apron and watches as Professor works with Patrick.  Professor really had Patrick moving around in the ring.

Patrick was hanging over the ropes afterwards.  He saw me staring at him, and smiled.  "Are you okay?" I asked.  "Yes, I'm fine," he assured me.

It was a pretty chill time in the gym.  No people wandering in to look around and no one who hasn't been in the gym in ages showing up out of blue to get a free workout.  I always hope for an easy time when Alan is away from the gym.

"Stay On His. . . !"

I was waiting in one corner of the ring for the bell to ring.  Oscar was in the other corner.  "I want you to stay on his ass like you did the last time," Alan told me.  I nodded.  I did okay, but I have a bad habit of letting the other person get two or more punches in before I respond.  Bursts of energy take place, but I don't keep going with them.  They are allowed to dissipate, and it takes too long for me to build back the energy again.  Meanwhile, Oscar -- who's about 25 years younger than I -- zipped around and away from me easily.  After the three rounds were done, Alan asked me to help him put on sparring gloves.  I was struggling to stand up straight while trying to help him.  Sparring with Oscar is no joke.  Luckily, that happened near the end of the evening, so I could sit down for a long rest.

Kevin basically does the same thing.  Earlier, he was in the ring with Paul, Alan's boss at his day job, and Kevin kept close to the ropes.  He waited and waited for Paul to get tired.  When he thought he did, Kevin came flying off of the ropes throwing bunches of punches.  Paul wasn't sure how to handle Kevin when the latter kept leaning on the ropes.  I kept wishing Paul would work his jab more.

Oscar got into the ring a second time with Alan.  Alan did not wear any headgear.  I was half paying attention during the first round they were in the ring.  When I looked up during one of the later rounds, Oscar's headgear was off.  I thought maybe Alan knocked it off.  Ray confirmed that Oscar had pulled it off during the action.  "I kept trying to get a piece of Oscar, but I couldn't," Alan said later.   Oscar did get a hit in on Alan's back, which wasn't good.  It was in the same spot where Alan had been hit during a sparring session over a week ago, and it's still sore.

Reggie and Ray sparred.  Ray had his thumb on his left hand taped up.  Like Jacob, Ray had injured it during a sparring session some time ago.  It's not broken, like Jacob's thumb is, but it is badly bruised.  It bothered Ray a lot during the sparring session.  Someone, maybe Reggie, suggested aspirin, but Ray said, "I don't do medicine, man.  I take vitamins.  You know what I take for pain?  A shot of whisky. . .seriously!" 

While talking with Pastor Roger in his office earlier this morning, I kept rubbing my lower back.  "Not as young as you used to be, eh?" the pastor smiled.  I told him about sparring with Oscar.  "You should do like Tyson and watch the other person's rhythm, then throw a punch in the middle of that," Pastor Roger suggested.  I'm so busy trying to land something that I seldom pay attention to the other person's rhythm.  I don't believe I have much of a rhythm while I'm boxing.  While dancing, it's perfect, but boxing, not so much.  I just keep coming forward, as Alan has pointed out. 

Kenny was tentatively scheduled to fight at the Standard Club downtown this Thursday, but that doesn't look like it'll happen.  Kenny's been ill, and he's been busy at work.  No one else was really available, either. . .Jacob's thumb is still on the mend, and I don't have an amateur boxing license (and most likely, no available opponent), so that was that. 

The Funky Gym

Alan had to go out of town on business, so he wasn't in the gym Wednesday night.  As soon as Jilberto opened up the gym door for myself, Oscar and Jesus, the mix of blood, sweat, and hot air rushed into my nose.  Phew!  I've been noticing the "funk" in the gym too often these days.  I didn't even bother turning on the second fan or fussing with opening the ancient windows.  The second fan, which is built into a window in the back of the gym, does nothing to blow air out, and no breezes ever seem to come in through the windows.

Kenny worked with several on the punch mitts, including Jacob (shown on the right in the photo above).  Kenny really gives some great pointers on how to throw punches and when. 

Before I had gone to the gym, I hoped there wouldn't be any incidents, major or minor.  Unfortunately, too many times when the coach is absent, something negative jumps off.  Fortunately, it was an easy, quiet night.  Leon came in briefly, talked to Colonel for awhile, then left, probably because no sparring was going to happen.  I spotted one of the many teenage boys that haunt the basketball courts peering into the gym, but he didn't come in for a closer look. 

The old boxing poster above features a picture of John Collins, a former professional boxer who is now a coach.  His niece, Erin, used to attend the gym, and she once had a fight at the Sabre Room, out in Hickory Hills.  I started thinking about all the people who have attended the gym since I've been going there,  I wonder what happened to most of them.  Lan has crossed my mind lately.  Outside of myself, she was the only other woman who was very consistent about coming to the gym.  Most of the other women who have come through last a session on average, then they're gone.  She was in the military, and that was why she stopped coming to the gym -- she was eventually stationed at a base outside of the state.  Jilberto would often ask me if I knew if she had been deployed overseas.  Steve, the former coach, tried to keep in contact, but the last email address he had for her bounced back. 

I pulled some pages out of my locker that I had copied out of The Gleason's Gym Total Boxing Workout for Women a few years ago.  The pages were of different combinations, so I decided to practice those.  I really like the jab-jab-left uppercut-right combo, so I worked on that for a few rounds.  I was awkward doing the jab-step-left hook-right cross combo.  I kept goofing up on the step part.  I did combinations on the bags too in an effort to check myself from just throwing one punch then stepping back all the time.

Alan told me on Monday that I catch too many jabs with my face, as opposed to blocking them with my hand.  It's true.  I do know how to tap incoming jabs down, but for some reason I don't do it.  I practiced a little blocking while shadow boxing in Rogers Park Baptist Church's gym yesterday. It was as hot in the church's gym as it gets in Loyola Park boxing gym, but I had to get a workout in.  Pastor came in and imitated some of the moves I was doing.  It looked as if he was attempting to dance (which he can't do, poor thing) instead of shadow boxing.  Aaron, the custodian, peeked in, saw me and smiled.  "I gotta play some Christian death metal music for you that I have on my iPod.  That could be used as workout music," he said.  I'd heard of death metal, but was surprised at the fact that there are Christian death metal bands.  He played some for me today.  I'm not into death metal, Christian or otherwise, but that could easily be blasted out of radio speakers at a gym, and it would work. 

Paulette told me that she saw the videos of me sparring.  "It looked like you kept backing up, when you could have been more aggressive," she said.  That's not the first time I've been told that.  I'm beginning to think that my backing up is a holdover from grade school when I was always having to back away (and not usually successfully) from some other kid's wild punches. 

Summer Cold Problem

Didn't go to the gym Wednesday night because of having caught a late summer cold.  I was at home both Wednesday and Thursday, trying to rush the sickness away.  I went to work this morning, so I feel somewhat better, but what a pain. 

Another pain -- it appears that someone has walked with two radios at church, one of which I used whenever I worked out in the church's gym.  I was coming down with the cold Tuesday, but I was going to do a workout.  Then I noticed the radio I use was not in its usual spot.  I had planned to transition back to working out at home with DVDs come next month due to time restraints brought on by my going to school.  I also didn't want to drag my gear back and forth once the weather got cooler and the sun wasn't out as much.  I guess I'm going to do that transition earlier than expected now.  

Professor left a message on the Internet for me that he plans to fight in Loyola Park's boxing show next Friday.  He asked me to let Alan know.  I called Alan and left a message on his voice mail.  Now there's just the matter of finding someone to match Professor up with. 

Running In The Church

I pulled the speed jump rope out of my gym back this morning when I got to Rogers Park Baptist Church.  But then I thought that I really didn't want to jump rope.  Both knees were bothering me, the right one more than the left.  But I had to do something to get my heart rate up.  "Why not jog?" I thought.

My personal training timer is always set to three-minute rounds just like in the gym at Loyola Park.  I thought I was going to have to stop to catch my breath as I ran around the church gym, but I didn't have to do that.   My knees were still tender, but the pain was not unbearable.  After a second round of jogging, I figured I could go for a third.  "If I do four, 15 minutes will have gone by.  Fifteen minutes is a mile," I thought.  When the end of the forth round came, I was feeling okay.  My stamina seems to be slowly going up.

I was smelling like a big dog, too.  On Thursdays, I just brush my teeth, put on the clothes I'll workout in, grab my gym bag and go straight to church.  I bring a change of clothes to put on after I take a shower upstairs.  When Pastor Roger came into the gym briefly to check on the tables that will be needed for a potluck this upcoming Sunday, I was hoping he wouldn't get too close to me to pick up the scent. 

There are no mirrors in the gym, so I can't accurately check my form while I'm shadow boxing.  I had a half a mind to shadow box in the mirror that's in the choir room, but I thought against it.  There's not really enough room to move around, and I didn't want to transport the radio back and forth. 

I just noticed today that the boombox has a tape player on it. . .another example of how slow I can be on the uptake sometimes.  I had been playing a tape on the way to church, so I took it out of my Walkman (yes, I still have one of those) and popped it into the boombox.  I was in the middle of jogging when the song, "I'm A Ho" by Whodini, a popular 1980's rap group came on.  "Whoops!  Can't play that in church!" I thought.  The round ended a few seconds into the song, and I quickly fast-forwarded the tape to something else. 

Sometimes it feels that my regular exercise is getting easier.  Or maybe that's something I just tell myself to keep doing it.  After all, it's not always a matter of wanting to do it, or even feeling like doing it most of the time.  It's under the category of needing to do it, and not just because of possible fights on my horizon.  I have health conditions that are helped greatly because of regular exercise. 

It also helps that I love boxing, and often imagine myself beating down an opponent while I shadow box.

Lucky Thursday Ticket

I went to the Golden Gloves last night to view the first set of final championship bouts.  Natalie, who has sparred at Loyola along with gym mate with Chloe, sang the National Anthem.  She's a trained opera singer, and she sounded fine. 

After changing my seat to distance myself from an annoying family group, I got down to paying attention to the matches.  Chloe fought, as did Ed Brown of Garfiled Park who beat our Ed Brown of Loyola Park during the preliminary bouts.  I was wondering how Brown pulled off his win.  He spent a whole lot of time waiting on his opponent, a guy named Johnson out of Chicago Boxing Club.  His fan club never stopped believin', however.  They yelled and screamed instructions to Brown the entire time.  Chloe went the distance in her fight, but ultimately lost on points.  She introduced me to her friends as her sparring buddy. 

Earlier in the day, I worked out for an hour and a half in the gym of Rogers Park Baptist Church.  The choir has a good boom box, and I kicked the volume up to ten to play my CDs.  Of course, I would have been scrambling to turn down the sound if Pastor Roger came in.  I'm sure the man would like to have worked upstairs in his office without hearing RUN DMC downstairs bellowing, "I'm the King of Rock/There is none higher/Sucker MCs should call me sire/I won't stop rockin' until I retire!"  It was a good workout.  I went upstairs to take a shower after I was done, and I had a strange thought:  "This is the first time I've been naked in church."  I remember reading the novel Fear of Flying by Erica Jong when I was in junior high or high school. . .I can't remember which.  If you are familiar with that novel, you know it's probably something that people under 18 years of age should not read.  There was a scene between the heroine and one of her boyfriends that had them alone in an empty synagogue. . . .you can probably guess what was up.  I've heard of folks engaging in similar activity in empty churches in real life.  Some people have no shame or fear of God apparently.

Throughout the boxing tournament, a 50/50 raffle has been running.  The objective is to raise money for youth boxing programs.  I played a couple of other times, but I wasn't successful until last night.  It was a little over $100, a nice piece of pocket money.  As I walked up the ring steps to claim my prize, a professional boxer named Angel was coming out from the ring.  He had just presented a trophy to the boxer who won the previous match.  I was a little unsteady, as I always seem to be on those type of steps, and he graciously helped me up.

Diego came over to shake my hand.  That's one kid that has great manners.  I guess he saw me sitting across the way.  He was there with his parents. 

I picked up the finals program, and Paul's fight was listed as a featured fight for tonight.  Tiffany, the 4"11 boxer who is going to try to get into the 2012 Summer Olympics, got a full page highlighting her accomplishments.  There are a couple of photos of Carlos in the program, as well.  One shows him watching as the boxer he fought against in the prelims is announced the winner.  The other shows him and Alan in the corner during one of the rest periods in that same fight.