Radio Silence

I wasn't happy to find out that the speakers connected to the radio and CD player in the gym were not working.  Looks like I'm going to have to find a cheap boom box to place in there.  I fiddled around with the speakers (both the radio and CD components appeared to be working) but there was no sound. I thought I was the only one who touches the radio down there, but who knows?  All I know that the speakers were fine the other day.

Only one kid showed up, a seven year old girl.  She told me that another girl who had been in the gym previously, like she had, was going to be late.  However, the other girl never showed up.  The seven year old was disinterested in being there initially, but eventually she warmed up to it.  We spent most of the time going over uppercuts, left jabs, and straight rights.

I didn't get my own workout in, even though no teenagers showed up for the second class.  Nor did I work on the lesson plan that the field house manager needs me to turn in to him in a few days.  I have most of it done, but I feel like I'm missing some things.

Instead, I was distracted by the smell of food from a group that had rented out the auditorium.  They were generous enough to allow me and another co-worker to get plates of food.  It was a typical soul food meal.  I skipped the greens, but got a double helping of the dressing, which was delicious.  I hadn't eaten much of a breakfast, so I was starved.  But I figured maybe I'll have a light dinner to make up for overdoing it.

The Return of Reggie

In the photo above, Rich shows some technique to a friend of his whom he brought to the gym Wednesday evening.  Later, Jilberto commented about how athletic she looked.  She mentioned that she plays basketball.  I wished that I had her physique.  I often think about the days when I was a size five, and I was very petite.  But those days have passed by for me.

Mary opened the gym door because Alan called to say he would be late getting there.  As she put the key in the lock, Igor gets right next to me and asks, "Teacher not coming in tonight?"  As long as Igor has been going there, he should know Alan's name by now.  He had no problem remembering the name of the former coach, so I didn't get that.  "Igor, why is it each and every time you're here all these dumb questions get asked?  I'm sorry, but that's what happens," I replied.  The statement came out of my mouth before I knew what happened.  But there was no sarcasm involved, just me wanting to understand why Igor never appears to be observant about much.  Of course, he had no answer.

I was happy to see Reggie, who gave me a big hug.  Reggie's been out of commission for about a year due to a bad knee.  He still has to have another operation to fix it, but for the time being, Reggie is ready to rumble.  "Do you think the coach could get me a fight at Brooks Park in December?" he asked me.  "You've got a month, so it could be possible," I answered. 

Reggie sparred with Rich.  Rich has become very good at picking his shots.  He calmly caught Reggie with several good jabs and rights.  Reggie was very tired afterwards, but he was happy to be back in the ring. 

Matt brought a copy of my ebook, A Woman's Guide to Boxing Gyms, and he showed me what it looked like on his cell phone.  "I liked it.  It was very informative," he told me.  I was impressed to see my ebook on an electronic device.  I'm busy planning out the next few ebooks.  They won't all be about boxing, but now that I know how to format them and where to sell them, the sky is the limit.

Sarah (shown here on the heavy bag) has become very, very good at jabbing.  She and I sparred, and I could not avoid being banged up by her jab.  Alan kept telling me to keep walking in on her and let Sarah hit my gloves so I could get close enough to get on the inside to throw punches.  That technique worked for a minute.  I was bobbing and weaving to avoid her punches, too, but that didn't help either.  "Hillari, why are you so sluggish tonight?" Alan asked.  "I must be having an off night," I replied.  "It happens," Alan said.

As we left the gym at the end of the evening, Alan asked me if I had thought about quitting sparring or at least, cutting down on doing it.  Earlier in the day, I had been thinking about that very question.  "Maybe when I'm 55 years old, I'll stop.  That's four years away.  I'll see how good I feel in the meantime.  But I have a suspicion that I'll be on a cane when I'm 60 years old," I answered.  I can see myself sitting in a doctor's office ten years from now.  The doctor will admonish me for having boxed for so long in light of whatever health problems I'll have then. Franco popped me good several times Monday night, and I shook it off.  There's no doubt I can take the hits.  It's the recovery time that's becoming longer and longer.

"Why do you ask?" I said to Alan.  He admitted that when he watches everyone else sparring, Alan wishes he could, too.  "I miss that," he said.  When I finally have to stop sparring and competing, I'm going to miss those, too.  But we all are having constant boxing matches against these opponents -- time, age, and health issues.  In the end, they're going to win. 

Protect The Hands

Ieisha asked me about sparring last night, and I turned it down. My left hand is still sore. Perhaps next week, it'll be okay to punch again. I just want to make sure. A boxer's hands are their most important weapons. If they're not functional, then getting into the ring is not a good idea.

Punch in style with women's boxing gloves by Everlast.

Carlos sparred with Leon. While they were in the ring, Carlos' son Justin was recording the action with a little Nintendo gizmo. I didn't know such a thing existed; see, I learn something new every day. Leon popped Carlos good while he was up against the ropes. At the end of a round, Carlos was kneeling in a corner.

There another new guy in class who's name I haven't learned yet. He sparred with Ieisha instead of me. She was getting the best of him early in the game. A few left jabs got him square in the face. But then, the tide changed. Ieisha got tired, and her opponent had better wind. He backed her into the corners more than once. "He was trying to knock me out," she said afterwards.

I was thinking that while my late dad did not know how to box, he did know how to fight. There are numerous stories around about Dad putting beat downs on people. Unfortunately, he had a bad temper, and it didn't take much to set him off. A few months before he passed away, he was talking about jumping on someone whom he felt disrespected him. The old man was in the hospital at the time. "All you are going to do is lay in that bed and rest," I told him. His habit of putting his hands on people influenced my boxing to an extent. But, fortunately, I learned a long time ago that always being on war alert is not a good thing.

Monday's Coach

Everyone was hanging around in the hall outside of the gym on Monday, wondering where Alan was. "He's probably running late," I answered. Then I remembered he said he wasn't going to be in that evening. I found Carol and BK so they could open up the gym.

Two new people, a man and a woman, were there. The man looked familiar to me. He might have signed up for the gym in the past and not stuck around for too long. The woman's name was Shanice, I believe. I spent time showing them the one-two combination (left jab, right cross) and how to stand.

I didn't get much of a workout in, partially because I was lazy, partially because I was coaching people, and partially because I was watching the room. Three other people roamed in, two guys and a girl who looked like they were in their late teens/early twenties. The taller of the two guys asked if he could hit the bags. It's annoying when people walk in and assume they are entitled to play around just because the door is open. However, I was polite as I explained they had to pay to play. Fortunately, they strolled back out after a few moments.

Carlos brought his little boy, Justin, in with him. Justin got bored, as five-year-olds will do when asked to sit and stay still for long periods of time. He had a couple of action figures to play with, but Justin kept getting up and down. "Which superheroes are those?" I asked him. "One is black Spiderman, and the other is red Spiderman," he answered. "Do you read the comic books?" I said to him. "Yeah, sometimes," Justin replied. "I used to read Spiderman comic books and watch the cartoon when I was little," I informed him. Justin gave me a curious look. "Spiderman was around when you were little?" he inquired. "Spiderman first came out when I was a little girl," I smiled. I didn't tell him that the character was created in 1962. Little kids cannot wrap their minds around the concept of decades. It's kind of funny, actually, about small kids and their concept of time. Years ago, another five-year-old told me that I was old. I was fourteen years old at the time.