Hanging At The Old Gym

I went to Loyola Park's boxing gym yesterday, and I realized how much I miss the place.  I kept thinking how I wish the adult boxing class at LaFollette ran like the adult class at Loyola.  But there are so many issues with the class (and the boxing program at LaFollette in general), the main one being attendance.  The adult class at LaFollette has also been predominately female.  Don't get me wrong; I believe in promoting the sport to women.  But I would like to have an equal number of males in the classes, too.  I'm very tired of teenage and adult males at LaFollette acting interested about joining the boxing classes, but not following through.

There were a lot of familiar faces at Loyola last night like Ben, Matt, Rojah, Michael, Kevin, Erica, and William, and a few new faces I didn't recognize.  A good amount of sparring went on.  Ben and Alan sparred at the end of the evening with Matt giving instructions to Alan.  Erica was calling out instructions to Rojah when he sparred with William.  I told Erica that she would make a good coach.  She told me that she does coach boxing during the summer at a nearby community center.

I didn't do a workout.  My lower back continues to bother me, and it seems that I'm walking slower and slower each day.  My left shoulder was bothering me, too.  I've been exercising several times a week, utilizing gentle (read: senior) workouts at home that I've found on YouTube.  What I need is a chiropractor, but there are no funds to pay for one at the moment.  This morning, I woke up with a headache and neck pain, so the workout I planned to do will have to wait until later.

Alan only has two guys -- Professor and Rojah -- in the Golden Gloves this year.  Everyone else begged off from competing for various reasons.  I plan to attend the Gloves, but I'll probably wait until the finals.

This is the last week of the winter session.  I'm hoping that it goes by fast.  I need a break.

Gym Madhouse

I believe John and Katie were sparring when I took this picture of Alan watching the action at Loyola Park.  Alan asked me was I happy at LaFollette Park.  I am.  However, some days are more challenging than others.

Currently, I am helping out in the summer camp for the next few weeks, in addition to me coaching my regular boxing classes.  The theme for the summer camp this year is sports.  Nineteen girls were sent down to the gym for me to coach for an hour.  Things were going fine until the one kid in the group -- and there's always one -- decided to be difficult.

She kept interrupting me with inane questions and comments while I was trying to explain techniques.  She didn't do much in terms of the exercises I had for the class, either.  Luckily, a camp counselor was on hand to cut down on some of the girl's annoying antics.  But not before the little wonder partially tore up one of the bulletin boards I had created in the gym.  I was able to fix the damage before the normal boxing classes begun.

It seemed like every kid who signed up for the 12 years and under class decided to show up.  I was being pulled in all directions.  I only allowed Andre, Jordan, and Kishaun to spar.  Nassir kept bugging me to spar, but Nassir ain't ready for that yet.  Neither are most of the other kids who were pestering me about it.

Jordan deserved credit because he came in early to practice.  His mom told me that Jordan wanted to give up boxing after that beat down he took from Kishaun the other week.  But after I talked to him, Jordan was determined to continue.  He did okay against Andre, but Kishaun caught Jordan with a few low blows.  I was going to pull Jordan out, but he waved me off and finished the round.

Shanita and Julius did their usual showing up way too early for training.  When I told Julius he had a fight in the boxing show, I got a blank look and silence.  There was yet another promise made to return at the correct time, but the siblings were no-shows once again.  I don't know what to do about those two, but I do know I can't keep worrying with them.

I didn't allow some other kids to spar because they had either lost their mouthpieces or left them at home.  Ashley gave me a blank look when I admonished her about not having her mouthpiece.  "I want to spar my sister," she whined, but her sister didn't have her mouthpiece, either.  "From now on, no one spars unless they have their mouthpiece.  Do not leave it someplace else.  Do not lose it; I will not give you another one," I announced.  I have plenty of mouthpieces in the back, but like my mother used to tell me when I was a kid, "keep up with your things!"

BJ and Tandi were the only two in the teenage class.  I sparred with BJ.  He got me a few times, but I kept coming over his jab with my right and getting some face shots in.  When his father, Ben, came in the adult class, he was happy that his son had gotten in some work.

Ben and his sister Alex got in a good workout.  We're going to work on speed the next time.  I really wish I had a stand to hang the double-end bag on because it would be good to have them practice on that.  We can do burn-outs, which will help.  Also, I have some punch mitts drills to practice hand speed.

I was dead tired when I left the gym.  But like David Letterman used to say, "It was a good kind of tired."

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.

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.

Now I Know Why She Won A Bronze Medal

My late younger sister's oldest daughter asked me what I wanted for Christmas.  "How about Marlen Esparza's Power Boxing Workout?" I said.  It arrived in the mail today.  Normally, I watch an exercise DVD in its entirety first before attempting to do the workout.  This time, I decided to follow along and keep up the best I can.

I knew I was in for something when the warm-up proved to be a challenge.  I had become used to warm-ups that involved gentle stretching and deep breathing.  Ms. Esparza and the two women with her were doing crunches, push-ups, and Superman stretches.  It's been a long time since I've done crunches or push-ups.  Even with making modifications, I couldn't finish the set, and the Superman stretches weren't easy, either.

The lower body exercises involved squats and lunges.  My knees acted as if they wanted to give up several times, but overall, those exercises went well.  I can see myself getting better at them as I do them more.

Ms. Esparza explained orthodox and southpaw stances very well, and she kept reminding viewers how they went throughout the workout.  She also did a very good job explaining the punches ("the lead hand is in front, and the power punches come from the hand in the back").  I also learned another way to throw overhand rights that involved turning over the arm and turning the body into the punch.  Another tip:  escape from the line of fire by moving to the side of where one's last punch came from.  For example, after throwing a double jab, followed up by right cross, step over to the right.

She went through a series of combinations that combined the hand movements along with body movements she showed earlier.  Her hands are fast, and I kept missing the order of the punches.  I thought, "This girl is 24 years old and she can do this easily."

In the words of the late Roger Ebert and Gene Siskel, I give this workout a thumbs up.  It's tough, but effective.  Ms. Esparza keeps the viewer moving.

Soreness

I made a comment to Pastor Roger awhile back about boxers being tougher than football players because boxers don't take off between February and August (or however long it is that football players are in off-season).  The pastor, an ardent football fan, smugly replied, "Football players take time to recuperate."  Well, football players don't have to be ready at any time for fights like boxers are.

But I think we pay for being at that level of readiness.  I was back in the gym this past Monday after having a fight last Friday, and I sparred on Monday.  I also sparred on Wednesday -- with Sarah both days.  Maybe should I have begged off of sparring and toned down the workout a little this week.  I've been sore since last Friday.  Today, my right knee was on fire.  I had to go to the drug store this afternoon and get a heat patch.

Josh, who hadn't been in for a long time, came in.  He asked me what had been going on, and I told him about last week's boxing show.  That's all he needed to hear.  Josh made a beeline towards Jacob and started asking a bunch of questions.  He spent most of his time in the gym asking questions and talking.  I honestly don't remember Josh doing a workout at all that night.

Ralphie sparred with Alan, as seen in the photo above.

And in this photo too.

I forgot to call Alan ahead of time to remind him to bring in a timer.  The one in the gym is officially broken.  Fortunately, Colonel brought in one that he owns to use for the evening.  

I've decided that I really need to step up the exercise, so I've been working out with my kettlebells this week.  Once again, I conveniently forgot that I'm still sore from Friday.  Maybe I should have waited until, oh, let's say, next week to put the new exercise routine into place.  Looks like I'll be back in the drug store later to pick up BenGay and pain pills.

Owed a Half of a Round

Last night, Carlos and I began sparring in the middle of a round.  After that round ended, Alan told me, "You still owe me a half a round."  "You gonna do that to me?  As old as I am?" I said while I huffed and puffed.  "Yeah, you gotta push yourself," Alan smiled.

The next round proved that I have become better at covering up.  Deflecting punches is something I still need to work on, howver.  Carlos was going non-stop.  It was as if someone had put rocks in an oversized slingshot and fired them all at once.  I did get in hooks to his head and his body, but they were not effective in slowing down his onslaught.  I was done after that round.

Jamil sparred with Carlos, and there was blood around the collar of his white shirt.  It was hard to tell who was bleeding, as neither man had signs of crimson leaking.  Carlos had a bruise on the underside of his top lip, and Jamil had taken hits to the mouth as well.  But it still was a mystery as to whom had been cut.  It could have happened while Jamil was sparring with Demond earlier.  "My mom's gonna yell when she sees it," Jamil smiled.

I heard Alan ask Diana if she was going to spar.  "No, I don't have a mouthpiece," she answered.  She told him that she'll pick one up for next week.  The other women did not come into to the gym last night. 

This morning, I did my usual workout in the church gym.  "Tell me if the music is too loud," I told Pastor Roger before I went downstairs.  Today is the National Day of Prayer, and most churches are open for people to have some quiet time in the sanctuary.  It wouldn't do to have people in the sanctuary trying to focus on God and hearing some R&B and hip-hop floating up from below.  During the workout, I felt a little twinge in the middle of my upper back.  Several years ago, there was pain in that area after I helped a nurse lift my dad so she could change his bed sheets while he was in the hospital.  He was average height, but he was heavyset.  I didn't have enough leverage as I thought on my side to lift him.  That happened a couple a weeks before he passed away.  I ended up going to the chiropractor to have my back straightened out after that.  I hope that little twinge doesn't mean I reinjured myself.  

Carlos likes to cook.  He told me he had eaten some chicken fried steak with gravy, and that his son Justin really liked it.  He's trying to change his diet in order to get down in size.  Alan joked to me, "Did you eat the whole pizza you ordered Monday night?"  I had told him when he dropped me off at home that I was going to order one.  "I ordered lasagna instead, but I didn't eat the whole thing," I answered.  Having noticed that Paulette will save half of a restaurant meal to eat later, I made that suggestion to Carlos and Ralphie.  I've been doing that myself lately whenever I order out.  If I'm actually at a restaurant, I'll either save half to take home, or just leave it on my plate.  It is so true that most restaurants serve bigger portions than necessary. 

Paulette and I had gone to a luncheon this past Tuesday, so I didn't do my usual workout that day.  I'll have to do another one either tomorrow or Saturday.  I haven't done a kettlebell workout in awhile, so I may do that if I don't do another boxing workout at church. 

"You Put Your Face In Front Of The Fist!"

A good sized crowd was in the gym Monday night.  Chloe and Joe showed up, but she and I didn't spar.  I'm assuming that Joe planned that she have a light workout, like most coaches will plan when their fighter has a bout coming up.  It's not always a good idea to spar very close to a match because of the possibility of the fighter becoming injured.  I promised Chloe that would go see her compete at the Gloves this week.

Another new woman named Toya came in.  She had a lot of questions about the gym and the sport in general.  "I think I'm going to like this!" she said.  I went over left jabs, rights, and movement with her and Cynthia.  For a long time, we were just talking and laughing.  Alan came over and grinned, "You all have been standing around for 20 minutes.  Hillari, you've got to make them work!"  I also showed them how to use the bags in the gym.

Alan and I sparred after Carlos and Jamil.   I accidentally stepped on his foot.  That's a habit I have most times that I spar.  It's a footwork error I need to correct.  Then Alan stepped on mine, and I lost my balance and fell to the canvas.  "Two can play that game," Alan grinned through his mouthpiece.  "It was an accident!" I protested.  He kept motioning for me to aim for his head, which I did reach a few times.  He caught me in the mouth once with a punch.  It was a wake up to me to keep my mouth closed.

I felt a lump inside my lower lip later on.  Upon closer inspection in the bathroom mirror at home, I saw a red bruise.  "Humph. . .he got me good there," I muttered to myself.  When I pointed it out to Pastor Roger at work the following morning, he pointed out, "Well, you put your face in front of his fist!"  "This afternoon, I'm going to work out in the gym," I told him, referring to the good-sized gym that is in the church.  "That's fine.  I don't know why more people don't take advantage of it," Pastor said.  One reason is that there is no gym equipment available.  Oh, there is a basketball hoop, but not everyone plays ball.  It would be nice if there were extra funds to put some used equipment in there, but the Haitian church uses that room for their Sunday services.  I suppose we could find a place to move and lock up the equipment somewhere in church.  But if it's too unwieldy to keep moving back and forth, the other congregation may not appreciate the equipment being in the way, as well as being a distraction on Sunday mornings.

Shortly after the Pastor left for a lunch meeting, I pulled out one of the church's boom boxes, threw on some James Brown and the JB's CDs, and worked out for a little over an hour.  It was slow going in the beginning.  My mind wasn't really focused, and I could feel my blood sugar dropping.  I had a bowl of sugar free oatmeal earlier, but that had long burned away.  After several rounds (I had brought my individual timer with me), I put more energy into the workout and actually had a good one.  Pastor returned near the end of the workout. I was waiting for him to admonish me about blasting the JB's on the boom box.  Pastor is not a fan of worldly music, not since the 1980's anyway.  But I like my workout music to be mostly old school R&B and pumping.  I remember when Anna, a friend of mine, and myself were roller skating in the church gym before a new floor was put in.  I had the JB's on the boom box that day, too, but she decided to switch the music to a steady stream of gospel choir songs.  "You can't skate off of that," I told her.  I like a lot of Christian music, don't get me wrong.  But I do like other genres of music, and it's not my preference for workout music.  

There are showers upstairs in church on the third floor.  I didn't bring soap, a towel, or a change of clothes.  I'm so used to going straight home from Loyola Park and taking a shower (or laying down, depending on how tired and/or hurt I am after the gym).   I want to make a regular habit of working out in the church gym, so next time, I'll be better prepared. 

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.