A Gym Full Of Cousins

Now Kishaun doesn't want to jump rope in addition to not wanting to shadow box.  "I don't like jumping rope," he told Rocky.  Both Rocky and I explained that jumping rope is for stamina, coordination, and footwork.  But Kishaun kept complaining.  Rocky told him, "Just for that, you'll jump rope every day next week."

Slowly, the kids and teen boxing classes are gaining participants for the fall season.  Ashanti, a cousin to Derrick Jr. and Kishaun, signed up.  I joke to myself that the youth classes are being filled up by Rocky's relatives.

Joseph, another of Rocky's relatives, is planning to sign up, but he lives out in the western suburbs, as does Tyrone.  The park district's usual policy is that if someone who lives outside of city limits partakes in a class or activity, they have to pay a higher fee.  That doesn't seem to apply to the youth boxing classes, which are free.  I'm more concerned about the suburban kids being able to come to class on a regular basis.  Most have to depend on someone driving them there. If they can't get a ride for any reason, that's another day of missed training.

Nassir ran in and ran out of the gym, not doing a workout.  Looks like I'm going to have to have a talk with his mother regarding whether boxing is a good fit for her son.

I hope Mel and Ben return for the adult class, even if they continue to split their time between the fitness center and boxing.  I like having them, and Ben's sister, Alex, in the class.

In light of the speed bag I had hung up to be used as a slip bag being torn down last week, I'm now concerned about having other equipment in the gym.  The ring is showing wear and tear from the two months of hell the summer camp kids inflicted on it.  The heavy bags took some damage, too, and the bulletin board closest to the entrance door was targeted for vandalism.  Thank God I could lock up the gloves, headgear, jump ropes, etc., or else those would have been destroyed and/or stolen.  If I can arrange to keep the summer camp kids out of my gym next year, I will.  Summer camp is for a short time, but my program is all year long. The equipment needs to remain in good condition for my fighters.

Anticipating Issues

This is a photo from when I was still at Loyola.  I was showing off my big legs for some reason; I can't remember why now.  I have yet to wear shorts down at LaFollette.  It would be appropriate now that the weather is warmer.  But then I'm still old school enough to think maybe I shouldn't be wearing shorts to work.

There's a meeting of the boxing coaches coming up soon about the upcoming Chicago Park District boxing shows.  During a previous meeting of the coaches, it was said that coaches are responsible for making sure their fighters act appropriately during the shows.  It's not the fighters I'm worried about so much.  So far, it looks as if I can only rely on Shanita, Julius, and Kishaun to actually participate in the show this July.  It's the youths who used to be in the boxing program and the ones who never were in the program whom I have to watch.

I am certain that those who are not currently signed up for the gym are going to ask if they can get a fight.  Terrance and Jermaine are the two most likely to do that.  Putting some kid in a boxing show who hasn't been training and thinks their street fighting skills are enough is a no go.  The situation would be very unfair to the kids who actually bothered to show up regularly to train.  I already know there will be a debate on that, and I'll probably have to yell to get my point across.

A few months ago, Terrianna and Te'Ria, neither of whom have an interest in boxing, were bugging me about working the corners during the matches.  Uh, no, since neither one of them stayed in the gym long enough to learn anything.  I'll choose among Kishaun, Shanita, Julius, or one of the other kids who've signed up for the summer classes to help me do that.  If Terrianna and Te'Ria keep whining and getting in the way on the day of the show, which I am anticipating, I'll put those two on the glove table to keep them away from the ring -- and me.

I'm surrounded by adults around the park who don't seem to get what boxing is about. I keep being asked if the kids at the gym will fight each other during the show.  It's been explained several times that kids from all the parks that have boxing programs compete against kids from other parks.  The other day, I was asked if the kids were going to hit each other for real during the matches.  No, the kids are going to stand in the middle of the ring and play patty cakes, I thought to myself.

Some kids are going to get their feelings hurt on the day of the show, mainly because of the annoying attitude of "I want to have my way at all times."  Those who have been doing a half-job of training will whine and complain when the outcome of a match doesn't come out in their favor.  Others will stamp their feet because I'll refuse to allow distractions and disruptions to interfere with the boxing show. Some adults will put their unwanted and erroneous two cents in, and I'll have to remind them that I'm the boss.  It will be interesting how things play out.

A Tale of Teen Siblings

The photo above is of the new ring that was installed inside LaFollette Park's boxing gym.  Te'Ria asked me, "Where are the steps?"  "It is off of the floor.  Besides, the ceiling is too low for the ring to be too high," I pointed out.  The ropes have been stretched very tight, so I usually just roll into the ring under the bottom rope when I have to get inside.

Shanita and Julius showed up an entire full hour before their class started.  Luckily for them, none of the younger kids showed up for their class time.  The siblings were able to get in two hours and a half of a workout.  As usual, Shanita was the one pumped up to learn, while her brother had to constantly be told to show some more motivation.  There used to be a soap opera parody on TV back in the 1970's called "All That Glitters".  It imagined what the world would look like if women were the shot-callers and men were considered second class citizens because of their gender.  Every time both Shanita and I get on Julius about being focused and training correctly, I feel like I'm in an episode of that show.

You see, Shanita is very much a tomboy, while her brother is the more mild-mannered type.  She is very athletic, a wiry teenager with a lot of energy.  Julius is not fat, but her brother is a little husky.  Julius doesn't give the impression of being very athletic or even rough-and-tumble like some teenage boys act.  However, he does seem to be getting the hang of things better.  During sparring, he caught Shanita in her head and face more than a few times.  For whatever reason, Shanita has been dropping her hands and hanging against the ropes for much of the rounds.  When the 30 second bell rings, then she wants to do some damage.  Julius can't often answer her punches when she puts the pressure on.

I've been having those two hold the punch mitts for each other.  It's impressive to see how fast Shanita picked up on holding the mitts correctly.  Julius needs a little more practice.  When his sister starts throwing heavy punches, Julius is usually not prepared to catch them and do a little push back.   Shanita was admonished by Julius for hitting the mitts too hard.  Then her brother complained to me about "my arms are hurting".  "You've got to be ready for when those punches come in, Julius," I said.

Before the siblings came in, I did about twenty minutes of exercise.  I'm determined to make that a new habit of exercising at least that much time four to five days out of the week.  The medicine I've been taking for my arthritic knees appears to be working, so I'm able to move better.  Plus, I have to be in somewhat decent shape to keep up with the youths, as well as the adults who will be using the gym soon.  Shanita suggested that I spar with her and Julius at some point.  I have to think about it.  But if I do decide to do that, I want to have some stamina.

Good News and Bad News Scenarios

Good news:  The eight-to-twelve year olds' summer boxing class is full.
Bad news:  I've got to tighten up most of those kids quickly for July's boxing show.  The only familiar name I recognize on the attendance list is Kishaun's.

Good news:  The summer teen boxing class has a few more kids.
Bad news:  While Shanita has said she doesn't want to miss any more days of training, her brother Julius still needs some more self-motivation.  The new kids who signed up will have to also be brought up to speed if they are going to compete in the boxing show.

Good news:  I've got a new boxing ring.
Bad news:  It's not bolted to the floor, and it appears some pieces needed to fully complete the installation may not be on hand.

Steve, my boss, is going to set the schedule for the fall session (it has to be done early).  I told him the new hours that have been set for summer will continue on permanently.  He's thinking about setting a fee for the teen boxing class for fall. Early on, I wasn't too sure about doing that.  In light of the fact that I have teens signing up then seldom showing up for class, charging for it no longer seems like a bad idea.  People tend to take things a little more seriously about something if they have to pay for it.

If I Owned A Private Boxing Gym

1.  Everybody would have to be there to work. I've been in health clubs that were little more than singles' bars without the alcohol.  There are also gyms where it appears that a constant show is going on daily to determine who is the most well-dressed and well-toned.  I've seen guys too busy flirting with their latest girlfriend of the week to hit the equipment.  However, there's not much going on in terms of getting a workout done. Chatting with people, having laughs, and having fun while in the gym is not a problem.  But always using the place as a social club instead of for its real purpose is not.

No one would be allowed to spar unless I saw they have been consistently putting in a workout.  Sparring alone without doing anything else: roadwork, shadow boxing, jumping rope, etc., is not going to win fights.

2.  No special treatment allowed.  Everybody who walks through the door of the gym gets treated the same.  No red carpets rolled out, none of this "I want to monopolize the coach and/or the assistant coach's time each day regardless of the fact there are 50 other people here because I'm special."  I'll do some hand-holding up to an extent.  But after a minute, I'm going to expect adults to act like adults.

3.  No kids under the age of 18 unless it's their time to be in the gym.  Before people get up in arms (especially the ones who know I'm childfree), let me explain.  If I had a private gym, I would have kids' boxing classes during the week and on the weekends.  But under no circumstances would I accommodate kids in the gym at other times.  I would have to consider safety issues.  My mother was a single parent; I understand about babysitting issues.  However, the last thing I would want to happen is some kid getting injured in the gym because they wouldn't stay in one spot while their parents were working out.

I also don't want to be put in the position of telling grown folks to watch their language and their conversation around kids who shouldn't be there.

4.  No using the ring to settle grudges.  There are times I won't spar because I'm ticked off at someone outside of the gym, and I don't want to take my anger out on a sparring partner in the gym.  That's what the equipment should be used to do.  Now I'm aware that there are some gyms who will allow people who work out their arguments with each other during sparring sessions.  In my opinion, that's a dangerous situation because two people stepping into the ring already have it in mind that it's not going to just be a sparring session.  There's no need to have anyone going to the hospital.  People have to find another way to settle their differences, preferably not in my gym.

5.  No tolerance for sexism.  I would have a co-ed gym.  Both men and women can learn from each other when it comes to boxing.  I would create an environment that was welcoming to all.  But the first time some guy exhibited an attitude about women being in the gym, let alone about me coaching, the door would be held open for them to exit.  I'd even refund their money.

6.  No free rides.  A private gym is a business.  If I let one person walk in for free, word will get around, and several others will want the same favor.  If people can't afford the yearly fee, then they can pay the monthly fee.  If paying the monthly fee is difficult, than people can pay a day fee to work out.  However, I can't keep the doors open by giving out freebies.

7.  I'd think twice about offering other fighting arts.  Many gyms that were strictly about boxing have added MMA, standard martial arts, and self-defense classes in order to stay competitive and remain in business.  It works in some gyms.  In other gyms, more emphasis may be put on one fighting art over another, ending up in quality of instruction not being as it should.  People say women are excellent at multi-tasking, but I'd rather focus on one thing at a time.

More In The Gym

As Alan wraps his hands, he gives out instructions to the new people.  A few more new faces came in including Leonaid, Brenda, Robert, and Shane.  Surprisingly, there was no sign of Igor, and his name wasn't on the attendance sheet.  But then, Igor seldom pays for new sessions in advance.  Edward and his mother didn't come in, neither did Sam or Lindsey.

My left leg continues to hurt.  I've just accepted that it's going to take awhile to heal.  My workout consisted of alternating between shadow boxing and working the bags.  I had to sit down practically after several rounds.  Alan had jokes.  "She calls me an old man," he said.  "Yeah, and I have my nerve, since I'm only ten years younger than the coach," I smiled.  I was taking pictures for this blog, and Alan cracked, "This is for the geriatric boxing blog, right?"  "It might just come to that," I laughed.

I like Ben.  That's him in the picture with his hand up in a "I'm a champion mode".  He and Sean spent a lot of time behind the ring working out.  Ben teaches self-defense.

Brenda wanted to get into the ring, so Alan obliged with a light sparring session.  "Get Alan with a jab!  Now throw a punch to Alan's mid-section!" I said from ringside.  Alan was impressed with the fact that she wanted to get in the ring so soon, and that she went around with him for two rounds.  "You've got a sparring partner," Alan said to me.  "As soon as my leg gets better," I replied.

Ben said, "I don't mind wrestling with women.  But punching them with full power?  I can't see doing that!"  "I couldn't hit a woman like that either," Sean said. When Brenda stepped in the ring with Alan, Ben was under the impression that women only sparred with other women.  "Men can spar with women, but during a regular fight, both people have to be the same gender," I explained.   I explained how there are a few guys who go by the "an opponent is an opponent is an opponent" rule, but most will pull punches when sparring with women.

Ben asked about the upcoming Chicago Golden Gloves.  I keep forgetting to ask Alan if he has renewed his coach's license online.  I learned several weeks ago that everyone was expected to sign up online this time around in advance of the Golden Gloves.  All I have to do is to send my receipt and my picture in to the Wisconsin LBC so I can get my new license.  It supposed to take two weeks to get that all that done. I keep forgetting to ask Alan if he's signed up, knowing that the coach is not big on technology.

Shane works on the body snatcher bag.  He had to repeat his name to Alan a couple of times.  "It's Shane, like the Alan Ladd movie," he said.  I made a lame joke: "Come back, Shane!"  "I haven't heard that before," Shane smiled.  I won't forget his name now, however.  I either will just think of that old western movie, or of boxer Sugar Shane Mosley, and I'll remember.

Maybe I should take up using the kettlebells again.  I read about a 50-something woman who used the kettlebells to get herself back to good health.  I don't want to further injure myself, but I have to do something.

Checking Out The New Ring

I couldn't find Jilberto when I got to the field house, so I waited near the front entrance to watch for Alan.  Renee walked in, and told me she turned her her enclosed porch into a workout area.  "But I need the extra cardio, so I signed up for the gym session that starts in January," she said.  While we were talking, we were interrupted several times by Igor.  No matter how many times I plan to be nicer to Igor, my irritation shows.  I assumed he had been waiting down at the gym door.  "The gym closed," he told Renee and I.  "You don't work here, Igor, so you don't know that," I replied, not bothering to explain that Alan hadn't said anything about not being at the gym.  Igor's impatience got the better of him, and he left.

Alan came down the hall not long after Igor went home.  The coach had been in the gym changing his clothes.  When Renee and I walked in, we were surprised to see the new ring was up (see the photo above).  There are a few more pieces to be installed, but for the most part, the ring is up and ready.  Renee left after awhile, promising to be in the gym in early January.

I got into the ring and walked around.  It seemed to be very sturdy.  I had to watch it walking up and down the stairs to the ring.  It would be nice if there was a rail to hold on to, but that's not how ring stairs are made.

This a view of the rest of the gym from the middle of the new ring.  Alan spent a good bit of time sweeping and moving things around enough so he, myself, Bean, and Matthew could get a workout in (Colonel and Kenny stopped in, but they didn't stay long). "Matt doesn't know one end of a broom from another," Alan said, referring to his son, who's home on holiday break from college.  I commented that it appears that Alan knows how to do housework.  "It's relaxing to me.  I can just zone out while I do it," he said.  His wife is a lucky woman to be married to a man who will actually clean the house.

There's not much room behind the new ring.  The workers pulled up the mat located below the uppercut bag, and moved the large white storage locker in that spot.  It took awhile for me to notice that the old radio had been put on the coach's desk up front.  Alan rolled the big tire out of the gym to make more room.  I didn't see the smaller tire, but it might be elsewhere.  I figured there are probably a lot more items that could be removed.  That will need to be done after the ring is completely installed, and it would probably be a good idea for Barry to weigh-in on what needs to go.

Alan pointed out that the raised ring makes it a little difficult to give sparring boxers a drink of water.  Now someone will have to stand on the ring apron with a bottle of water while people are sparring.  I suggested that since there are two spit buckets in the gym, one could be placed at opposite corners of the ring.

Since the ring is now raised off the floor, we all are going to have to be careful about the ropes.  In the past, there wasn't that much of a drop if someone was sent sailing through the ropes.

No, this picture doesn't have anything to do with boxing, but I just had to put it up here.  My niece received a proposal of marriage from the young man she's been seeing for some time earlier this week.  She accepted, so I'll have a nephew-in-law soon, and my younger sister, who while unfortunately no longer with us, will gain a son-in-law.  As you can see, he got on his knees and proposed in the old fashioned way, which I think is romantic.  They make a cute couple, don't they?

The Fix In The Gym

I was waiting outside of the gym door and time was marching on.  No sign of Alan.  Colonel came in.  "We're the only ones here?" he asked.  A moment later, Caroline came down the hall to tell us that Mary had called Alan earlier.  Mary told Alan that the new boxing ring was being put up, and that he might have to hold class in one of the other two gyms in the field house.  Colonel asked Caroline to open up the door so we could see what work had been done.  I had noticed that some of the pieces of the new ring were no longer in the hallway outside the gym entrance.

The new ring looked like it's coming along fine.  But everything else in the gym had been moved around to make room.  "There's no room for one person to workout in there today," Colonel said.  He and I decided to leave and call Alan later.  As we were driving away, we saw Alan driving up.  Colonel turned the car around and caught up with him.  "But we could go into the other gym," Alan said.  "No, we'd be in the way," Colonel said, indicating the kids playing basketball in that gym.

It makes sense that the new ring would be put up now.  After all, officially, the gym is on break.  The people putting up the gym had no way of knowing people are in the gym regardless of the session being over.  There's always the chance that we might not be able the train in the gym until January.  But we'll have a new ring that is elevated instead of on the floor.

Bad Days Made Better Down at the Gym

There are many reasons that people dread Mondays.  I had a few of my own reasons today.  The alarm clock went off this morning, and I turned over to click on the radio.  I turned over again to get a little more shut eye when I heard a horrible news story: a one-year-old in Georgia had been shot in the face because a couple of teenagers didn't get the money they wanted out of the child's mother.  I hear of so many shootings in Chicago that oftentimes, I just shake my head and think, "Here's another one", shrug my shoulders and keep moving.  But that news story disgusted and disturbed me.  I had to get up because I could no longer sleep after hearing that.

When I got to work, a quick check of Facebook revealed the sad news that a friend of mine whom I graduated with from high school had passed away.  Charles was a funny, bright guy who always kept people laughing.  The last time I saw him was at one of the high school alumni holiday functions.  I knew Charles had been ill on and off, but it was still a shock to hear that.  Tears pooled in my eyes as I read the news.

The tears gave way to anger when a disagreement took place at work between myself and the pastor.  One of the heavy bags in the gym really took a beating from me when I got there.  Still, I couldn't completely get my mind focused on the workout because of all that had taken place earlier in the day.  But it felt better to take some of my feelings out on the equipment.  I guess I've been fortunate, if you want to put it like that, that some bad days always seem to happen on the days that I'm scheduled to go to the boxing gym.  I don't kick the bags when I'm there, as I sometimes have seen others do, because it's not a martial arts gym.  But if I could have executed some kicks to the bag I was on, I might have knocked it completely off the chain.  It was that type of day.

Not many people came in. Alan wasn't in because Passover begins today. In the gym was Colonel, Brandy, Momo, Bean, Sarah, and Amy.  Emmanuel stopped in briefly to see if the Park District fight schedule was posted yet.  He wants to get some fights in this time around.

There was a long box laying on the floor in front of the mirrors.  Colonel helped me set it upright so that others wouldn't trip over it.  Looks like it might be a brand new heavy bag.  However, we have four in the gym propped up against the walls because there is no room to hang them.  What is really needed is a new ring. There's tape in the middle of the canvas to keep down a piece of it that is coming up.  The rest of the canvas is frayed around the edges.  Plus, the ring canvas is on the floor.  A regular size ring will not fit easily into the gym, but a smaller one raised up a foot or two off of the floor would work nicely.

Lessons From Kenny

I did a round robin session of sparring with Sarah and Taheerah.  Sarah got in with Taheerah first.  I was impressed at how Taheerah hung in there with Sarah; she's not that much taller than I, and Taheerah is petite.  But she was able to handle Sarah's punches.  When I got in with Sarah, it was the usual; I took hits to my head and to my right eye.  A right hook grazed me across my face.  I focused on giving out body shots, but none of them slowed Sarah down.  I'm convinced that Sarah should try to get a fight at the field house's boxing show next month.

Taheerah's head gear kept coming off while she was sparring with Sarah.  The same thing happened last week when she and I were in the ring.  She has a lot of hair, plus the head gear Alan put on her was old.

Kenny noticed that it seems that there are fewer sparring and bag gloves on the table each time the gym is opened.  "Sometimes, Barry locks up equipment," I said.  When the gym was given a lot of free equipment back in 2007 when the International Boxing Championships were in town, Barry had to put a lot of it under wraps for safety.  Unfortunately, a lot of that equipment -- the gloves in particular -- walked anyway.  Kenny figured that maybe some of the equipment was beginning to walk again.  

Kenny held pads for a few people, including me.  He showed me another way to throw an overhand right.  Usually, I do it the way Alan does, like a bolo punch (which is what that punch was originally called), setting it up like a right cross, but coming down with it in an arc.  The way Kenny showed me was to come over my opponent's jab so that my fist ended up striking their chin or cuffing them behind the ear.  He also had me throw right uppercuts and immediately follow up with a left hook to the body, as I would already be in position to throw the hook from leaning in to deliver the uppercut. People were watching us, including Taheerah and Ray, who cheered me on. "There you go!" Ray said, and Taheerah laughed as she told me, "Don't try those punches on me when we spar!"  Next week, Kenny is going to show me some more combinations and how to step over to avoid counter punches.

I sent an email to Steve on his birthday; I believe he's now 38 years old.  He emailed back and told me he saw the letter I sent to The Ring Magazine praising them for finally including regular articles about female boxers.  He asked if I was still going to Loyola Park and how the gym was going.  I gave him an update and asked him to say hi to Ellen (his wife) and their kids.

Tommy and I were talking about energy drinks on the market.  "Have you tried that Five Hour Energy?" he asked.  "I've never drank a full bottle.  Half of one is enough to have me hopping," I said, and I comically demonstrated the effect.  Tommy laughed.  "I drank a full one, and I was sitting on the train when suddenly I felt pumped up!' he said.  I don't trust most of the energy drinks I see advertised because I'm not really sure about the ingredients that go into them.

Alan and I were the last ones in the gym at the end of the night, and I told him, "I forgot to take pictures of the action."  "Take a picture of the ring.  You can put a caption on it that says the ropes are in distress -- much like Leon's love life," he chuckled.  "If Leon sees this on the blog, I'm going to tell him that you put me up to it,' I laughed.

The Coach, His Son, and Pizza

Taheerah and I sparred Wednesday night, and I honored her request to go light.  Her husband, Nate, gave her tips from the side.  I heard Alan say to me, "She's your height!  Throw straight punches!" 

The ring itself continues to be in disrepair.  I heard that it might take a year for maintenance to fix it, which I can believe.  When the back door of the field house was broken, it took about that amount of time before that was repaired.  As Kenny pointed out, it makes it hard for the fighters who need to learn how to work off of the ropes.  It's also hard to gauge where one is at during sparring because half of the ropes are down on the canvas.  Alan and I are constantly calling out, "Watch out!" when someone gets too close to the edge.  In my opinion, what's needed is a ring that doesn't have its canvas bolted down on the floor.  The last time I was in JABB Gym, I remember they had a small ring that was only a couple of feet from the floor.  It didn't take up a lot of room; such a ring could probably fit into Loyola Gym.

The temperature in the gym was very hot, and no wonder -- it was about 100 degrees yesterday.  I was banging on the teardrop bag when I noticed my bag gloves were slick with sweat.  Jilberto told Colonel and I that most of the other field houses didn't open that day due to the heat.

I got some more good tips from Kenny on how to throw uppercuts.  I had reverted to my old habit of bringing my arms all the way before throwing them, which is a good way for an opponent to step in on me with hard hooks.  The last time I sparred with Taheerah, I tried to sneak a couple of uppercuts in, but I wasn't close enough, and she danced away very fast before I could execute them properly.  That's the one punch that I never feel I do correctly, and the one I feel I need to practice the most. 

Lots of sparring, despite the heat -- Kenny, Jimmy, Jacob, Matt, Nathaniel and Nate -- all took turns on the canvas. 

After the gym, Alan, his son Matt, and myself went to Giordano's.  Matt had chicken, while Alan and I split a pizza (the leftovers of which I will have for dinner tonight).  Alan had me cracking up with a some "Curb Your Enthusiasm" moments he had.  One involved him asking a woman if she was pregnant.  She wasn't.  "You never assume that a woman is pregnant unless she tells you," I laughed.  I think of all the times people have seen my gut -- which I have been trying to whittle down for the longest -- and assumed that I had an ankle-biter on the way.  It's one of the quickest ways to tick off most women.

We had a good time.   I could tell that Alan worries a lot about Matt, and like most young folks, Matt thinks his dad's fears are unfounded.  However, father and son appear to have a comfortable way of talking and relating to each other.

Coaching and Recording

While taking my usual stroll to the gym by way of the lakefront, I ran into Mathieu and Erica.  Both of them assured me their fingers were fine:  Erica had slammed one of her in a car door, and Mathieu hurt his the last time he sparred with big Leon.  Mathieu knew I had a blog, but Erica didn't.  I emailed them copies of pictures I took of them in the gym.

Not only are the ring ropes still in need of repair, but the double end bag was found laying on the floor.  One of the kids probably hit it too hard yesterday and it fell; it happens.  Alan climbed up on a ladder to fix it, but it was still not high enough for most people to use.  It was perfect for me, but outside of Oscar, I'm the only vertically challenged person in the gym.  "They'll have to punch down," Alan said.  But then Jimmy, one of the new people, climbed up to adjust the height again until it was okay.

In the above video is just one round of sparring between lanky guys Jacob and Alan.  They did five rounds in total.  I heard someone behind me, may have been Tommy, commenting, "The old guy looks pretty good in the ring", referring to Alan.  "He must have been boxing for a long time," Nathaniel (another new person) said.  The two men kept going like Energizer Batteries.  I shadow boxed near the ring to watch them during the other four rounds.  In between one of the rounds, I said to some others standing nearby, "Alan does good for a guy of a certain age."  Alan grinned, and said, "Thanks, Hillari", in a joking sarcastic manner.


There were three full rounds between Sarah, who's at least 5 foot 8, and Oscar, who's my height (5 foot 1).  I noticed that when Oscar got in head shots, he reached up to Sarah using angles.  "Ah-ha!  So that's how it's done!" I thought to myself. 

I sparred with Ursula again who asked beforehand, "Are you going to be nice to me?" I pulled as many punches as I could, but the harder ones kept slipping in.  I thought we had done three rounds, until Alan put on a set of gloves -- but put on no headgear -- and stepped inside the squared circle.  "You have to do three rounds," he said.  I was tired out, but managed to make it through that last round, trying to catch Alan as best as I could.  I got him in the face with a right, but that was the only significant punch I made. 

I showed Jimmy how to use the double bag, and showed Ray (not muscular Ray, but a new guy in the gym) how to stand and how to pivot.  Ray told me that he can't hold a baseball bat the normal way.  "One eye is weaker than the other one, so in order to see the ball better, I have to stand the other way," he said.  I hold a baseball bat in the opposite way as well, something that other kids would curse me out about when I was in grade school.  One of my eyes is weaker than the other, too, but I didn't hold the bat the "wrong" way because of that.  It was because I felt I had more power to swing it from that position. 

All Men and One Woman

"So this is the limbo period between sessions?" Alan asked.  The winter session ended last week; the spring session begins this upcoming Monday.  Professor, Jacob, and Colonel came in.  Also, a friend of Professor's, Ray, came by.

Jacob and Professor sparred.  Jacob commented that Professor got in a good shot to his mouth.  Later, Professor worked the pads with Jacob and also showed him how to move around the ring.  Colonel said that his arthritis was bothering him ("It sucks to get old," he kept saying) so he begged off of sparring, opting to shadow box in the mirrors instead.

Alan and I sparred, and as usual, he caught me right in the face with a punch.  He stopped for a moment, and rolled his eyes.  He didn't mean to hit me like that.  "Are you okay?" he asked.  "Yeah," I said, figuring it was good that I was still on my feet and conscious.  I was better at giving body shots this time around.  It's always hard to connect with Alan's face or head. "You need to spar with one of these younger guys who are slick in their movements. I can't move like that anymore," he said after we completed two rounds. Like Colonel, I was fighting the effects of arthritis, too.  My knees were crying a little. "Why do you stop after you get someone in the corner?" Alan asked. "I always feel like that I'm crowding them too much so that I can't effectively get any punches off," I answered.  Alan said that I should stay on opponents once I get them backed into a corner.

It appears that I'm stiff more often these days and for longer periods of time. My back was almost as stiff as my knees as I stretched out before getting into the workout. I could grumble that I'm too young to have problems moving around. But based on my age, and the fact I've put a lot of punishment on myself (ice skating, roller skating, in-line skating, and martial arts before boxing came along), I don't have much of an argument. 

Moving With Caution

Ieisha and I sparred last night for the first time in weeks. She naturally hits hard, and remembering the beating I took the last time, I proceeded carefully. Occasionally, I have bursts of energy while at the gym. Last night was one of those times. I felt light on my feet as I bounced around the canvas during the first round. I was chasing Ieisha around the ring too much, however. She turned away from me at one point as she was moving away. I landed an illegal punch -- by accident -- on her lower back.

One of her left hooks nearly took me out. For a moment, I thought I was going to collapse onto the canvas. After taking a few deep breaths, I kept going. Ieisha also got me good with a hard body punch to the stomach.

Alan told me that I would get a couple of good punches in, then I would back up. Since Ieisha is good at fighting on the outside, my actions would make it easy for her to clock me. I also have a bad habit of closing my eyes when a punch comes towards me. I've been trying to break that habit for eight years now.

It was a quiet night in the gym. Carlos and Justin, E and Markel, Jamil, and Ralphie were in attendance. Everything was copacetic until the end of the evening. A guy rushed into the gym, going on about how another guy was harassing him. He wanted help. "I ain't trying to get caught up in nothing," he kept saying. The second guy shows up, demanding that the first guy return a pair of shorts he lent him to wear. The two of them had been playing basketball in one of the other gyms.

The first guy insisted that the shorts were a gift. Despite of Alan offering the guy sweatpants that were laying around on the clothes rack in the gym, the first guy wouldn't back down. The second guy was talking about beating the first guy down. The first guy barked about the second guy and others always picking on him. As the argument continued, I got the feeling that the first guy wasn't wrapped too tight. Ralphie also tried to be a voice of reason, but it was a no go. Finally, Alan threw his hands up and hustled both guys out of the boxing gym. BK also made sure they got out of the building. BK was muttering under his breath about their attitudes.

My question is this: why did the first guy tried to get other people caught up in his drama? In my opinion, it was a petty dispute, certainly not worth going to war over. Alan and I encountered the second guy and a few of his friends when we got to Alan's car. Alan basically asked them something along the lines of, "is that really worth fighting about?" The second guy's friends seemed ambivalent, but the second guy was still hot about the whole thing. "I'll see that guy again," he grumbled. Alan and I shook our heads and headed home.

He Keeps Going and Going. . .

When I got to the gym, only Alan and a colleague of his, Patty, were inside. "Where is everybody?" I asked. "Maybe the rain is keeping them away," Alan supposed. It was about twenty minutes before anyone else got there. Ricky's sons arrived first.

Carlos sparred with both of Ricky's sons. Ricky had a pair of gloves on. "Are you going into the ring?" I smiled. "Oh, no! I'm perfectly willing to be the parent who encourages the kids to participate," he laughed. The boys didn't do bad at all against Carlos.

It was my turn to step into the ring with Carlos. He and I had not sparred before. Carlos didn't hit as hard as he could have, but then, I wasn't hitting him hard, either. He willingly gave me some openings to get punches in, but by the middle of the second round, I was moving like an old turtle. Carlos was light on his feet, which was amazing, considering he had just gone several rounds with Ricky's sons. Carlos is like the Energizer Bunny whenever he's in the ring.

Carlos' son Justin gave both his dad and I curious looks when we came out of the ring. He said something like, "Dad, you fought the girl?" The little guy is funny to me.

It seems that I have fewer hand wraps than I did before. Some of them were given away -- I gave Jamil a pair, and I think I gave either Sadiq or JJ a pair awhile ago. I have a black pair that Country (Mike) gave me a couple of years ago, a couple of red wraps, and some blue wraps. The blue wraps are mismatched. One is from Ringside and I think the other is Everlast. Who knows how I misplaced the hand wraps. The blue ones are for kids's and women's hands, and they are shorter.

Get your boxing gloves and equipment for less.

I prefer the longer wraps because of the extra padding -- and protection -- they give my hands. There are many ways to wrap the hands to sort of cut down on injuries (but not completely). As a middle-aged person, plus being a writer and currently working as a church secretary, I have to be particularly careful about my hands.

Blasts From A Left And The Past

Ieisha and I sparred last night. "I don't have a mouthpiece, so don't hurt me too much," she joked. I agreed to go light. After taking a long bike ride up to Fort Sheridan the day before, my knees weren't in the best shape. Since I couldn't move as fast, I had to rely more on punching. I also had to watch out for Ieisha's punches, which I thought I was doing better than I did before.

Alan noted that I wasn't hitting hard. "She's breathing hard, too. Get in there," he told me. I also thought I was covering myself up better, although Ieisha got me with some good body punches during round one. During round two, I should have remembered that Ieisha can fight southpaw. She caught me across the bridge of my nose with a punch, and I backed up. Each time I came in, I went more for the body then for the head. The hooks weren't getting in well.

She caught me in the face with her left, and I was stunned. It was my intent to shake it off and keep going. My legs decided they were done, and they buckled under me. I found myself looking up at the lights in the ceiling. "I'm fine, I'm fine," I told Alan from my prone position on the canvas. "Stay down, stay down," he told me. After a few moments, I sat up. It was another few minutes before I could stand up.

Carlos sparred with Ralphie. I noticed a guy standing near the ring watching them. I was surprised to see that it was Jamie. Jamie used to come to the gym during the first year I started going there. It was good to see him. He told me he ran into Steve a few months before. Jamie told me that he was coming back to the gym on Wednesday.

Oscar and Leon went up against each other again. Earlier in the evening, Leon was joking with Oscar. "What? What did you say?" he said menancingly to him. We all laughed about that. I continue to give Oscar credit. He took several hard hits in the head from Leon, who is literally a giant over him.

Alan asked Ieisha and I about perhaps getting matches this Friday at Garfield Park's boxing show. The coach was trying to guess our weights and heights. "You're about 140, right?" he asked me. "I wish! The last time I checked, I came in at 179," I answered. I know that's too big for someone who stands five foot one. I've been losing weight at a good rate, but I need to lose more.

Cut weight with the women's sauna suit by Everlast.

This morning, I told the Pastor I needed to get aspirin from the first aid kit in his office. "Are you okay?" he asked. "Oh, I got knocked out last night," I casually answered. "Hillari, Hillari", Pastor lightly admonished, shaking his head as I followed him down the hall to his office.

"I'm a pretty tough built chick, Pastor," I laughed. "Don't you think you might have a concussion?" he asked, as he took a seat in front of his computer. "Probably. I wouldn't be surprised," I said. "If you still have a headache after taking the aspirin, maybe you should go to the doctor and get checked out. If you have some real damage, you could die the next time you get hit," he said, his face serious. "Coach was talking about getting a match for me this Friday, but maybe I'd better re-think that. After a knockout, a boxer is supposed to take off for awhile," I answered.