When I Say Something. . . .

Steve misplaced his key to the main door of the gym, so we had to enter through the door that leads to the basketball gym this past Friday. I've mentioned before that I hate when that door is open. Too many folks think it's an open invitation to come inside the gym. That is all good and fine if they actually want information about the program. It's another thing to be in the way of everyone.

Danny brought a guy in, and the next thing I knew, the guy was rummaging around in the bag glove locker. "What are you doing?" Steve asked. "He told me I could hit the bags," came the reply. "Not unless you're signed up," Steve answered.

Right behind that guy came two boys who proceeded to hit the bags with no hand protection. "No touching the equipment unless you're a member of the gym", I said with no amount of the politeness Steve had for the other guy. One kid stood around for a moment, then left, but the other kid, a stout sort, decided he was going to keep messing with the gloves. Jermaine told the kid that he should come back on Tuesday and Thursdays when Barry is coaching the youths. The stout kid obviously took this to mean that he could continue to hit the bags. "You need to take that glove off," I told him. He came a little closer to me, talking about "Huh?"

I hate that bull out of kids. He heard me the first couple of times I told him to stop. Maybe he's the type that doesn't listen to his mama at home, but I didn't carry him for nine months, so I don't have to put up with it. "Take the glove off, put it back on the table, and stop hitting the bags. Thank you," I growled. The hint finally sunk into the kid's thick head, and he complied, leaving the gym not long afterwards. I don't like being a hard ass towards kids who are interested in the sport, but rules are rules.

A Newlywed's Win

It was back to the Sabre Room last night for a show fight. Sadiq's wife--yes, he got married on Tuesday--came along. "I'm so nervous for him," Lauren said. She turned out to be a good calming influence on him, especially when he found out he was fighting a guy named JD instead of the boxer whose tapes he had been studying.

Steve told Sadiq that JD postures a lot in the ring and fights wildly. When JD was introduced, he flexed his arms and gritted his teeth at Sadiq from across the ring. Sadiq was doing well during the first two rounds, catching JD with jabs and solid rights. JD's technique involved rushing at Sadiq and brawling. There was a moment when the referee broke the two fighters apart after JB threw what looked like an illegal punch to Sadiq's body. After the break, Sadiq seemed to think for a moment, then he popped JD with a body shot. The referee admonished him.

The third round seemed not to be in Sadiq's favor. There were a few times when it looked as if he was waiting to see what JD would do instead of continuing to work the jab. JD's haphazard punches were connecting more than usual. Sadiq did get in a shot that cut JD's lip open. When it was all over, the decision was given to Sadiq. JD complimented him profusely afterwards, even pointing out his own mistakes that cost him the victory over Sadiq.

Josh didn't get a match, and unfortunately, last night was probably the last opportunity for him to get a fight. He's a young man on the move, checking out grad schools and preparing to travel to Japan to teach English for several months.

Humid Friday Night and No JABB

Steve was out of town, so I opened the gym, or should I say, Robert, one of the fieldhouse staff opened up. We had to go through the basketball gym and enter using the door there because Robert did not have a key for the main door to the boxing gym. I don't like having that door open when I'm watching the gym. Occassionally, kids and teens playing ball will wander into the boxing gym through that door, then it's a problem getting them out. "We want to box a few rounds", they'll say, knowing they don't know how, or they want to play around on the equipment. After I got my wraps and boxing shoes on, I had to go back through the basketball gym to get to the water fountain to fill the water bottles. Sometimes, the guys doing hoops don't pay me any attention, but there's always females hanging around the benches to watch the guys. They give me odd looks when I pass by, and mumble under their breaths. I want to say, "At least I ain't wasting my time trying to look cute and doing nothing." Reminds me of when I was in high school. I hated being around girls who seemed to have nothing on their minds but how to catch knuckleheaded boys. The same girls would roll their eyes at girls like me who weren't tunnel visioned like that.

It was hot in the gym because it was humid outside. I turned the one box fan on, but that wasn't enough. Too much of a chore to open the ancient windows. Besides, I didn't want to forget to close them. Steve told me how Barry had called to get on him once when he forgot.

Fortunately, the guys who were already in the gym did not want to stay late. However, Gabe, who is home for the summer from college, walked in near closing time, followed by Emmanuel. Gabe had a legit excuse--he works as a lifeguard at a pool, and the hours hard for him to get to the gym on time. Emmanuel is not an official member at Loyola Gym; he normally works out at Clarendon, a fieldhouse several miles south of Loyola. "Just let me have three good rounds," he pleaded, so I stuck around. I wasn't in a great rush to get home. My apartment was just as hot as the gym.

Missed out on going to JABB Gym on Saturday, because I accepted an invitation from one of my cousins to hang out with her out in the suburb she lives in. Judging by how stuffy it was in JABB the last time I was there, I can imagine it was even worse due to the heat wave we're having. I only remember being overcome by heat once, over ten years ago. I had been walking around for a long time outside, no water bottle with me, for whatever reason I don't remember. I leaned against a tree outside of a woman's house. She came out, gave me some water, and a wet nap to wipe my brow with. Might have been a good idea not to go down to JABB, jumping around in the heat.

Quality of Boxing DVDs

I sparred with Sarah last Friday. Guess being knocked in the head so many times caused me to forget to record that here (smile). Figured out one reason I have a hard time with her in the ring is that she is a non-stop punching machine. I got her once with a left hook, but the rest of my efforts to make any kind of headway were pit-i-ful as Jed Clampett used to say on "The Beverly Hillbillies".

Steve and I were laughing about the quality of many of the instructional boxing DVDs we've seen. This is not to say that the information included on them is not valid; it is extremely helpful. The production values are off, especially on the ones put out by Ringside. The information is often given out in a monotone by John Brown, the head of the company, who appears to be a knowledgeable guy otherwise. It is obvious that he is reading cue cards most of the time. There's another guy who also appears on the DVDs, who's delivery is a little better, but I can't remember his name at the moment. Flubs, like accidently calling a speed bag a double end bag, aren't edited out.

The ones produced by Title Boxing appear to be a little better, based on a couple of them I've seen. Unfortunately, it is too easy for those instructional DVDs to be a series of talking heads. For example, I have one about proper nuitrition for boxers featuring trainer Freddie Roach and a British boxer. They stand in one spot for the majority of the video and give their advice about what boxers should eat. That's it. A list of acceptable and unacceptable foods scrolls across the screen at the end of the DVD. The one with the Canadian head of Title about how to properly work a boxer's corner is more lively.

I also have a couple of Everlast DVD's featuring boxing instruction featuring Michael Olajinde. He wears a patch over one eye due to an bad injury he suffered when he was a professional fighter. I believe he doesn't have his eye there anymore. I like how he breaks down the various punches, combinations and practice drills. He is also featured on one of Kathy Smith's DVD. She's a major exercise guru who has goo-gabs of DVD's out. That is a boxing workout, but it is obviously modified for those who are not looking to be fighters, who just want a more intense workout. Still, it's not a wimpy workout, with several jump rope sequences, and numerous punch combinations. I haven't used it in awhile--my apartment is especially too hot in the summer months to do much exercising inside--but I like it.

Hot Work Out

This past Saturday, I decided it was high time that I add a third boxing workout to my week. My first option was to pay for a stand-alone boxing class (without having to sign up for full membership) at the martial arts school I used to attend. I had been promising the boxing coach over there for a few years now that I would eventually return. The cost is rather steep for only about a month and a half of classes, unfortunately, and I can't really swing paying that kind of money on a regular basis. Instead, I opted to go to JABB, a professional gym that has been open for about over a year. JABB was featured in The Ring magazine several months ago. It's a clean, open space on the northwest side of the city, several miles from the downtown area. It's a bit easier to get to on public transportation that Windy City Gym. A day pass to workout costs $5.00.

Despite all of the ceiling fans being on that day, it was very hot inside the gym. I got in a two-hour workout before becoming too tired to continue. Samantha was there with her father, training in a small ring on the other side of the room. She and I were the only females there.

The first thing I noticed was that I had to modify my workout slightly. There are no step risers there, so I didn't do that. I finally found a speed bag that wasn't very high, but it was still not low enough to be completely comfortable for me to work with. Unlike the one at Loyola's gym, I could have lowered it, but I didn't want to take the chance of accidently damaging it. They also had a Cobra bag, which Loyola doesn't have, and I went a few rounds on that. Over in a corner were two LifeFitness walking machines. I hadn't been on one of those for a long time, so I choose the "cardio" setting, and walked for 15 minutes. An uppercut bag had been mounted to the wall in a good position for me to get underneath it and run drills.

The shower was cold after that long sweaty workout, but welcomed in contrast to the stuffiness of the air in the gym. I will return again next Saturday, but I'll have to get there early: there were signs posted stating that JABB will be closed at 2:00 PM on Saturdays beginning this weekend.

The Old Gal Sprints Again

Maybe if I had changed out of my boxing shoes and back into my tennis shoes before running sprints, I would have done better. Maybe not. Junior, Ben, and one of the new guys whose name I don't know, ran the length of a fence next to a baseball diamond outside of the fieldhouse. They did all five sprints. I managed to do two.

Some time ago, Junior had suggested that I do sprints, or at least run most days. He runs just about every day, but he's 19 years old. I used to love to run when I was younger. Even had a track class while I was in high school. I would jump the hurdles like a gazelle. Yesterday evening, I was wheezing like a long-time cigar smoker.

Back in the gym, I was awarded something that very few in the gym are: I was given a locker. There aren't many in the gym, about five, I think. The lockers are reserved for the coaches of course, then the guys who consistently train and compete, like Montrell and Junior. I'm actually sharing a locker with Junior. The only thing inside was a cornerman's jacket. Junior usually takes his gear home with him. I locked my gym bag up inside.

Steve, one of the new guys, is built like a professional wrestler, with tatoos on both of his huge arms. "Could you teach me how to jump rope the next time?" he asked. "I was watching you earlier, and I can't jump like that." I told him I would. I guess I think all guys should know how to jump rope from when they were kids. But now that I think about it, I knew very few boys who did jump rope when I was a kid. I guess the skill wasn't encouraged because that was something that girls did. There was one boy I knew in grade school named Jimmy, who could jump double-double better than most of the girls. The other boys picked on him about it.

Seems like half of the new people showed up last night, and then the ones that came in didn't stay long. The coach did have them working on the pads, doing the ol' one-two-three: left jab, right cross, left hook. In one of the women's eyes, I could see boredom setting in. Truth be told, doing the same six punches over and over can become routine. The fun is in seeing how you can perfect them, along with footwork.

A Week Off

I had a bad cold last week, so I stayed out of the gym. Last night, I returned to find several new people there. Forgot that a new session started. Near the end of the evening, Steve had them do interval training on the heavy bags: 1 minute of non-stop punching, 30 seconds punching at half-speed, then 30 seconds more of the non-stop punching. I never saw people clear out of the gym so fast afterwards. I half-wondered if Steve did that to weed out the people who are not serious about sticking with the workout (smile).

Keith came in with his girlfriend, but alas, did not do a workout. Jermaine introduced me to a friend of his named Muhammad, a big fellow with whom he played football with while he was in high school. Muhammad was surprised that I had also graduated from that school, and was a member of the very first class that graduated from there.

The regular gang stayed late, past 9:00 PM. It was pouring rain when we left, so Steve drove Sadiq and I home. Sadiq won a belt last weekend at a boxing tournament that was part of a tribute to boxer Barney Ross. I am so sorry that I was laid up with a cold--boxing historian Burt Sugar was there. Steve told me that he, Junior and Sadiq got to meet him and talk with him a little.

Unfortunately, Junior lost another fight, so Steve gave him a week off from the gym, figuring the kid needs the time to get his head together. Junior worries before every fight, and during the bouts, he often makes the mistake of waiting to see what his opponent will do. Steve asked me if I knew of any books Junior could read along the lines of setting goals and focusing his efforts. The first author that came to mind was the late Norman Vincent Peale, who was the pastor of a church in New York. He wrote many books about positive thinking. Steve also mentioned some sports psychology books, that I might pick up for myself.

Working Out With A VanDawl

Maria, or VanDawl, as she's known to her roller derby team, came by the gym last night. I showed her around the equipment, taught her the basic punches, and did some medicine ball exercises. She was interested in coming back and learning more. I can now see how boxing would be helpful to a derby girl, especially in terms of developing endurance. I should have told VanDawl that if any of the other derby girls are interested, to feel free to contact me.

Keith and Junior sparred last night. Keith hadn't been working out again for awhile, so he tired out quickly. Keith is bigger than Junior in size, a cruiserweight to Junior's middleweight build.

Surprise Workout

Keith showed at the gym with his girlfriend last night. It was a different woman than the one he used to bring in a couple of years ago. Later, I would find out that she is in her mid-30s. Keith is 23 years old. I ain't mad at the sister--she must be doing something right to pull a young man.

Sadiq also had his girlfriend there last night. She's a pretty, somewhat plump girl, who looks to be part Hispanic. Over the past year or so, I've noticed that is somewhat of a trend, the guys bringing their girlfriends in. The women sit in the corners and watch me and any other woman who is working out with looks of surprise and horror. It's funny to me.

Steve worked me to the point of exhaustion with a combination of left-right, left-right, slip, right-left hook-right, bob, right-left uppercut on the punch mitts. I had to sit down for a couple of rounds to recover.

On the bulletin board was a story about the documentary featuring Barry, Montrell, Michael and Edmund that was in a local newspaper. The article was very complimentary about the film. I had made a mistake earlier when I said the kids competed at the National Junior Olympics; it was actually the National Junior Golden Gloves tournament.

Sometimes, I put things on the bulletin board. Currently, there's an article about a five year old girl named Mia Ellis, who has garnered a lot of attention for her boxing skills. Her dad is a former boxer, and he trains her. In addition to articles, there are numerous pictures of the current boxers, plus ones of those who no longer come in to workout. Steve has pictures of his baby boy up there, and Neil, who hasn't been in the gym for months, has a picture of his youngest child, also a boy, posted. One picture has me decked out in boxing gear while sitting at my desk at my job. Les, my boss, groaned when I asked him to take the picture, but he did it anyway.

Queen of the Gym

Jermaine came in Wednesday night; he goes to college, so he's only in the gym during summer and school breaks. He had two guys with him, who he introduced me to them as being "the queen of the gym." That tickled me! Junior and Steve had said not long ago that if Jermaine was serious about being a heavyweight contender, he could turn that whole division around. For a big, tall guy, he's very quick.

I got in on an interval exercise where you hit the heavy bag as fast as you can for 30 seconds, then hit it normally for 30 seconds, alternating like this during a whole round. Most of the guys went a full five rounds, but I tried it for one. Next time, I'll go for more rounds. It's a very good exercise, and it builds endurance.

Wrote down all of the park district boxing shows for this season. I noticed the last show takes place two days before my birthday in December. They are running kind of late this year, because they are starting in July, rather than June. Our boxing show is in late September. This late spring has become busy for me, and I don't see a slow down this summer. Figured I'd better get the dates into my Franklin Covey before too long.

Learned From A Documentary

Apparently Barry was a wild kid when he was young, according to an admission he made in the boxing documentary I viewed last night. "I was arrested for some minor things and a couple of major things," he said in a voiceover. Pictures were shown of him riding motorcycles down alleys and doing dangerous jumps. He said the cops picked him up in front of his house once, and began to slap him around. His mother ran out, ready to jump the police. "Leave my son alone!" he said she told them.

Edmund, brothers Montrell and Michael, and Lavar were profiled as the film followed them as they trained and then competed at a National Junior Olympics tournament in Syracuse, NY. None of the boys won their matches, but it was a learning experience for them. I found out some things about them I didn't know, as well. I knew Montrell and Michael's mom had passed away, but I didn't know she died so young. She was 37 years old. Currently, their older sister, who's in her early 20s, looks after them.

Steve told me that he and Ellen would have brought Eli to the film, but they thought he might have become too cranky. Steve had Eli outfitted in Everlast boxing clothes. I told him he had to take a picture of the baby wearing the gear and bring it into the gym.

A Shiner

Mike came in sporting a shiner. Junior said, "What the . . .?" It was from when he sparred Sadiq on Wednesday. Didn't know he was hurt like that. Reminded me a little of Neil, who used to bleed everytime he stepped in to spar. I still remember Sean, a tall, thin guy that used to train at the gym. He was bleeding at the Golden Gloves, before he even got into the ring with his opponent! I remember Josh and I looking at the drops of blood on his towel and commenting on how strange that was.

Josh came in and announced he graduated from college. In a few months, he'll be on his way to Japan to teach English for a year. I told him he's got options now that he's received his degree, so why not go for it? On the flip side, Junior was saying he didn't know what he was going to do. He needs a better paying job, but is not sure if he should also think about returning to school. "Back in the day, people didn't need to have degrees, did they?" he asked. Steve told him to look up the word "deindustrualization". "I could have just got a job and kept working after I graduated high school," I told Junior, "but nowdays, you have to have a degree just to have someone look at your resume." Junior keeps talking about going pro from time to time, too. Oh, to be young and have numerous opportunities.

Maria, the roller derby member, didn't come in tonight to learn some boxing drills, and about a couple of hours ago, I found an email from her. She said she was still available for tonight, but of course, I got the message too late. She has a new cell phone, so I emailed her my home number so we can set up another time. I've been going through my boxing books at home to come up with routine for her. I'm assuming she'll want some things to put into use right away, so starting up slow with the basics may not be practical. It probably would be a good idea to show her exercises specific to boxers, instead.

Gotta Do The Work

Keith asked Steve if he could get him a fight. Steve refused because Keith always wants to fight, but doesn't want to train hard. "We've been down this road before," Steve told him. It was pointed out to Keith that getting him fights is never a problem. However, it makes no sense to put someone in the ring when they haven't prepared enough to face an opponent.

Boxing is not an easy sport. Doesn't matter if one is in the pros, or in the amateur ranks, or in the yuppie world of white collar boxing. In order to be successful at it, you have to work. My main goals are to keep the skills up for self-defense purposes, and to get and keep in shape. I was glad that I was at the gym for more than two hours today. I needed the workout. I needed to sweat. I needed to come home tired and sore. The work has to be put in.

No, I don't like jumping rope. It's a chore to do the crunches, sit-ups and squats. Some nights, I can't get my mind in the right place to focus on getting the right rhythm on the speed bag. There are times I hit the heavy bags improperly, and my hands and wrists sting. There are other times I move like a turtle with a limp when I should be up on my toes. But I keep working, because I'll never get better if I don't.

Fighting At The Aragon

Barry was on a local independent radio station this morning to talk about the boxing program. There is a documentary that was done by Steve's brother-in-law, Kevin, that will be shown in early June. The documentary will focus on the youth boxing program. Junior's name was mentioned several times. Junior and Steve were supposed to be a part of the interview, too, but Junior stayed in bed, and Steve had to rush Ellen to the hospital. She is fine now, but it was a bit scary earlier.

The host of the show asked Barry if there had been an adult female boxer at the gym who was a graduate student. Barry mentioned mine and Lan's name. "Maybe it was Hillari," the host said. "Yeah," Barry said, "she's at Northwestern." I wish I had the time and money to go to grad school! I got a good laugh out of that.

Steve was able to make it to this afternoon's match at the Aragon. Mike came along, too. The place had been a ballroom back in the 1930s and 1940s. It is used for concerts and sporting events today. The program was a fundraiser for research to cure cystic fibrosis. It was a pro-am fight, meaning both amateur and professional matches were featured. The draw was what was the last amateur match for a kid named Tome who is also a football hero at Notre Dame. The kid won, which I suspected he would, against Jeff, or TNT, as he is nicknamed. The crowd was clearly on Tome's side. News cameras were all around the ring to catch the action. I'm still trying to figure out why Tome is touted so much as the next best thing in boxing.

Junior was getting the best of his opponent, but for some reason, the judges were not watching the same one everyone else was watching. Junior was robbed. An older man came up to Steve and Junior immediately afterwards and said, "That was a bullshit decision!" Sadiq won his match. His opponent caught him a couple of times with some hard shots; Sadiq had his head up. After the second time, Sadiq stayed low.

Junior was pretty bummed out that he lost. He said that his brother had admonished him about losing other fights, stating that Junior had "talent, but not skills." I think that sometimes, Junior listens too much to negativity from others about his boxing.

Flurry Of Activities

I sang the National Anthem before a show at the fieldhouse that highlighted the sports activities that take place there. The focus was mainly on the kids' participation in the programs. Diego, Kevin and Nate Jr., along with Barry, did a boxing demonstration for the crowd. Before the show started, I caught the eye of a baby who seemed to be fixated on me. His dad, Michael, joked that his son could not take his eyes off me. The baby was a very pretty boy who had a light mocha complexion and soft, sandy brown curly hair. I played with him a little before and after I sang. His wife, Allison, came in with their older son, who had been featured in an earlier portion of the show. The older son was a good looking kid, too.

The gym had a lot of people hanging 'round for the first portion of the evening. Sam was there, along with a kid who I had not seen before. I assumed he was a new guy in Barry's class, because Barry was giving him a lot of encouragement. Barry saved a T-shirt for me with the same of the boxing gym printed on it. I thought that was very nice. Made me feel very appreciated.

Was offended by an answer to a boxing question I saw on Yahoo! Answers earlier. A woman wanted to know if boxing was a good workout to lose weight, and another woman told her to avoid the sport if she didn't want to look like a man. Mia St. John, a professional boxer, doesn't look masculine to me. Neither does Laila Ali. Looks as if people are still not aware that very few women have the capacity to naturally build themselves up to look like professional bodybuilders. Only 2% of women can do that; the others have help, usually of the wrong kind (steroids, anyone?).

The Joints

Larry came in the gym, which has become a rare occurrence lately. He told me that school was out for the year, so hopefully, he will come in more often during the summer.

Mike and Junior sparred for a few rounds. Steve found a print out of sparring drills, and he had them try them out. Afterwards, Junior felt that Mike had more stamina, but I could see that Mike became tired out more quickly. Junior, on the other hand, didn't appear to break a sweat. Junior never seems to actually get tired, despite the fact that he often claims that he is. "I'm tired of these young men talking about they're tired!" I tease him whenever I hear him claim exhaustion.

Finally had to admit something to myself: it takes longer for me to get up off of the floor these days. There are a couple of aerobic steps in the gym. I seem to to be the only person who uses them. I'll sit on one of them to put my boxing shoes on, then struggle to stand up. The same thing happens when I get up off the mat from doing crunches and push ups. It's too easy to blame weight. I have to face the facts: it's age.

My middle aged joints don't have the spring they used to have. It's funny, though. . .when I'm jumping around practicing punches and footwork, I don't notice my right shoulder acting up or my knees cracking. It's as the clock turns back twenty years, and I'm able to glide and fly.

Place of Deep Pockets

Sadiq and Diego had matches at a non-for-profit fundraiser held in the Gold Coast neighborhood. During the evening, a silent auction as well as a live auction was held. A lunch with Laila Ali went for $4,000, while a visit with her dad on his Indiana farm went for $8,500. A lot of people with deep pockets were in the room that night. The attendees paid $175 per ticket to be there.

Junior came along, but the guy he was supposed to have a match with crapped out. We joked that the guy was scared of him. The guy was the 2005 Golden Gloves champion. Since Junior is the 2006 champion, that would have been a good fight. Kevin should have had a fight, too, but that fell through as well. Both Sadiq and Diego won their matches.

I met Mike, who is the head of the Illinois Boxing Association. He announced that there would be an all female boxing show soon. There may be an opportunity for me; I hope.

Missing In Action

A guy was talking to Steve about taking up boxing. I guess the guy asked how many people are normally signed up, because Steve asked me how many I thought there were. It appears that about 40 people are signed up at any given time. Many do not come in on a regular basis, like Rias (I've been spelling his name wrong; I hope that's the correct way) who came in on Wednesday. Some showed up once or twice, but never came back, yet their names are still on the roster.

Gilberto, one of the fieldhouse staff members, asked Steve and I had we heard from Lan. She's been on my mind lately. A few months ago, she was assigned to a military base in Missouri. Steve had emailed her awhile ago, but the email bounced back to him. I hope all is well.

From time to time, I wonder what happened to Igor. He was a middle aged man of who was a regular in the gym when I first started training there. Igor didn't have a good command of English; I don't remember which country he was from. Half the time, we couldn't make out what he was talking about. He would ask Steve a lot of questions, often while the coach was trying to concentrate on something else. Got on Steve's nerves sometimes.

Ike was a young man who had a great interest in boxing and seemed to be moving up. He had a lot of personal challenges: job issues, family issues, financial problems. Ike had moved to another city for several months, then came back, claiming to want to get back in the game. His appearances at the gym became sporadic, though. Rumors began to fly about drug use, drug dealing, and child support problems. I was surprised to find out that Ike had a toddler. One of the last times I saw him, Ike attempted to work out with alcohol on his breath. Steve admonished him about coming to the gym under the influence.

Betty was a tall, big boned woman who came in on and off, but regularly than most of the women who have been there. She had to have been six feet tall. I liked her. She was very articulate. Steve put her and I together in a sparring match. I dipped down to avoid her fist at the wrong moment, and her glove came down on top of my head. I had a headache the rest of the night, and was sore for days afterwards.

Mike and Dorian were a couple. Dorian worked at the martial arts school I used to attend, and Mike had taken classes there. Mike had also graduated from the same high school I attended, although years after I had gone there. Dorian didn't come in often, but Mike was usually in the gym. Dorian was sophisticated, and Mike, a tall, friendly, lanky guy, always seemed in awe that he landed such a woman. They moved out of the neighborhood over a year ago.

New Toys To Play With

Steve was back in the gym on Friday. His wife is better. Turns out she doesn't have strep throat, but what looks like a bad cold, which is torture enough.

The new equipment he ordered some time ago finally came in. A new medicine ball, a maize ball, groin protectors, a fast feet (to help a boxer stay in correct stance and build up power in the legs), aerobic shadow boxer, an ab wheel and jump ropes. I noticed that a T-shirt and hat was included in the order. I guess because a certain amount was spent on the equipment, a few free items were thrown in. Steve gave me the hat.

I have an ab wheel at home, but I seldom use it. Great exercise for the abs and arms, but hard to use. After trying the one at the gym, I gave up and did regular push ups and crunches. My upper body strength could be improved; I don't do many push ups before my arms start crying for mercy. My strength in actually in my legs.

It was another one of those nights where I had to force myself to focus on the workout. I'm becoming tired of spending part of or all of my workout taking out my anger over irritations at work; it's been happening too often over the past couple of months.

Got some good news when I stepped on the digital scale; I lost a few pounds. Haven't been eating a lot of the junk I was last week.

Somewhat Of A Lull

Ben wondered if the warmer temperatures were keeping people out of the gym. Only myself, Ben, Junior, Logan 2 and Joe were there tonight. Weather could have been the reason, but there is a bit of a lull right now before the Chicago Park District summer boxing show season starts. Steve stayed home; Ellen was sick, and he wanted her to rest while he took care of their son.

Junior was telling me that jogging was the best thing. He jogs and runs all the time. I may take that up now that the seasons have changed. There is a track not far from the house that I can use. I admitted that I have been very lazy about roadwork (running/jogging); I don't do it. I want to in-line and roller skate a lot this summer to help with stamina and endurance. Now all of my skates are street ready, including the rink skates, which were converted to street skates. I put street wheels on them, replacing the old indoor wheels.

A kid came in and asked about the gym. He was harmless enough, although I did have to lightly admonish him against hitting the bags and jumping rope. Had to tell him a few times to come back when the kids are in the gym. Didn't want to discourage him; when I see kids hanging around the gym door looking curious, I'm helpful with giving information.

Good Sparring

Saddiq sparred with Pierre, a guy who normally trains with the Evanston Boxing Club. Pierre has sparred with Junior in the past. Saddiq continues to amaze me as how mild-mannered he appears to be, and his viciousness in the ring. Pierre's nose was bloodied up a bit.

Only two of the new folks showed up tonight: Fara and Mike. I promised Mike I would show him how to put his wraps on the next time he comes to the gym.

I was pooped out early. Eating too much of the wrong stuff this week, namely Eli's cheesecake, and not exercising at other times are the culprits. I'll be glad when the outdoor roller skate wheels I ordered come in this week. The weather is getting better, and I'm going to do a lot of street skating to supplement working out in the gym.

The Little Gym That Could

Found out yesterday that Saddiq is now the Citywide Boxing champion in the 147 lb. weight categeory. God has really smiled on our gym this year. There have been so many championship wins over the past several months.

Both of the women who are named Logan were at the gym last night, but the other newbies were missing. I understand that Fara was in the gym on Wednesday, the day I had to go to choir rehearsal, but she was the only new person that night. Already people are skipping out. I'm surprised that Crystal didn't show up. She seems to be the most interested out of all of the new people. The weather may have contributed to the absences, too. It was extremely nice, warm enough for me to wear shorts to the gym.

Neil, who hasn't been in the gym for awhile, stopped by with his kids, a little girl named Carmina, and his baby son, Luka. I was shocked at how big Luka was. He looked more like a two year old child than a baby who's only a few months old. Carmina was her usual shy self.

Junior was grumbling about having to pay the IRS. He was also complaining about having to pay rent to his dad. At least his dad only asks him to pay once a month. Mine wanted rent out of every paycheck I got. That nonsense was squashed when I moved out of the house when I was twenty, which is how old Junior will be in a couple of months. Steve asked him when was he planning to move, but Junior didn't have a idea. He's thinking about dropping his cleaning business and getting another nine-to-five gig. I wish he would consider going back to college. It'll help him in the long run.

Saddiq Surprises

I attended the 2006 Tony Zale Chicago Park District Citywide Boxing Tournament (that's a mouthful) llast night. I had never been to that tournament before. It was held at Curie High School on the southwest side, a school that boasts about having the biggest gym in the city. I'll give them that. My high school's gym was huge, but Curie's looked like they had more room. Recognizing that the school sits in an area that has had its share of racial problems, like a lot of neighborhoods in Chicago, I got off the train prepared for smart remarks from passersby.

Two rings were set up. There were too many boxers to have one match going on at a time. A little confusing to hear two sets of bells going off, however. Hard to tell sometimes when the round had ended for which fight, and the boxers were thrown off a little bit, too. Things went along at a fast clip. There was no time to linger. Barry gave me his video camera and asked me to tape the matches.

A few of Barry's boxers--Joe, Freddie, Alex, Kevin and Montrell--were on hand. Only Joe, Freddie and Kevin had matches, and of those boys, only Freddie came out a victor. The towel was thrown in on Joe. Montrell was expected to get a match, but I'm not sure what happened with that. Some of us from Steve's stable were there--Mike, Junior and Saddiq. Saddiq's fight was at the end of the evening. I think his bout was number thirty-nine.

Saddiq was quiet and appeared to be a bit nervous before his bout. Once he stepped into the ring, the pops he gave his opponent echoed off the walls of the gym. The crowd had thinned out a little by that time, but those who were left were fascinated by what they saw. So was I. A man with an island accent stood next to me and asked, "Where dat boy from?" "Nigeria, I believe," I answered. "Dat boy fights like a muthafucka!" the man exclaimed. Just then, Saddiq cracked a fist into the face of the other boy. "If I got hit like dat, I'd have to go for my guns!" the man continued. I laughed at his remark. Saddiq then knocked the other boxer to the ground. About three times, the other boxer had to take an eight count. "They might as well stop da fight!" the man said. "No sense in dat boy gettin' hurt!" The referree agreed with him and did so. "He's young," the man told another bystander, referring to the losing boxer, "he can fight at another time."

The usual cast of characters were at the tournament--Shifty, Kitchen (who I found out last week was a former Golden Gloves champion), Allan, Gary, Yale, Chupi (a coach at Windy City Gym), and the coach everyone loves to hate, George. Tina, a major player in Chicago's amateur boxing scene, was also there, as was Samantha, a teenaged boxer who had come down to Loyola once.

Champions and Brawls

Junior's name was called before any matches started at the Golden Gloves this past Friday to come to the glove table. Those of us from the gym in attendance at that moment--Sarah, Saddiq, Keith--sat up in anticipation. The annoucement could only mean that Junior was going to be one of the first to fight that evening. His match was number three in the line up. Steve and Barry rushed to get him ready. Mary, Mike, and Ellen (along with Eli) arrived not long afterwards. The place was packed and practically sold out.

I could see Junior's opponent over in a far corner of the gym, warming up with his trainer. "Junior can take him," I thought to myself. Sure the guy was a little bigger in the muscles department, but he had looked very sloppy during his semi-final bout.

Novice fighters only go three rounds during the finals, as opposed to open fighters who have four rounds to get the job done. I was surprised when the fight ended, thinking there was one more round to go. Junior's fight had been featured in the program for that night. It was explained that novice fights are not usually given that attention, but powers that be saw something in Junior's skills that they liked. They felt that he would win, but they also listed his weaknesses. Apparently, his opponent had read that in the program, because his style was a little different than what he showed in the ring the previous week. Junior watched him carefully, and set him up for punches.

The announcer rambled on about the T-shirts on sale, the beer available to drink, and the special guest who would award the trophy to the winner. I was on pins and needles. I used to bite my nails when I was a kid, and was seriously thinking about taking up the habit again at that moment. Steve and Barry stood in Junior's corner, looking like they had patience in waiting for the judges' decision.

When Junior's name was announced as the 2006 Chicago Golden Gloves 165 novice divison champion, I jumped up from the bleachers and yelled my approval. We were all proud of his accomplishment; he worked hard for it. Junior only smiled for one of the pictures that was taken afterwards, though. I would have been hopping up and down if it was me, but Junior was quiet and subdued. "You're the city champ, man! Smile!" we told him. "I don't know, I just don't like smiling for pictures," he said. Junior did hang out in the audience, however, basking in the kudos that people gave him.

Saw the Judah-Mayweather fight at Steve's house on Saturday night. Very good match, but an ugly incident happened near the end of the bout. Judah gave Mayweather a low blow and a pop on the back of his head. Both punches looked deliberate. Mayweather stumbled to his corner, bent over in pain. His trainer jumped into the ring, mad as hell. He threatened Judah, and the referee, Richard Steele, attempted to head him off. Then Judah' s dad, who is also his trainer, jumped into the ring and yelled at Mayweather's trainer for approaching his son. A punch was thrown, and about fifty people, including cops and security guards, flooded the ring. I'm surprised the fight was not stopped, not only because of the mini-riot, but also because of the wicked low blow. But continue it did, and Mayweather ended up winning.

It was a good time, as both babies--Steve's son, Eli, and Barry's daughter, Lily, were in attendance at the viewing party. Now that I've had another good look at Eli, he has his mother's eyes, but his dad's face. Lily is a little charmer who smiled a lot. Also, Allan, a guy who judges matches was there. He told us that he had met Sugar Ray Robinson, when the boxer was at the end of his career. His brother, like Allan, was also involved in boxing and knew a lot of the big names, including Ali. Fascinating stuff. Another guy there, Marty, told me he had been involved with boxing for 22 years, starting off as a fighter. Makes me wish I had started earlier.

Wildness and Productiviity

Today was the beginning of the spring session, and several new faces were on hand. One of the newbies is an emergency room medic; another has a two-year daughter at home. Of everyone, Crystal, a curly haired woman, seemed to be the most eager to learn technique. I had fun showing all of them the basics, while Steve worked with Junior and Saddiq. Junior will be back down at the Golden Gloves this week for the finals, and Saddiq will be in the park district's city-wide tournament next week.

There was another guy there tonight named Joe who normally trains under Barry. He came in to get some extra training, but Joe did not do well on the bags nor against Saddiq while sparring. Barry had told Steve the kid could box, but Steve had his doubts.

Junior and Saddiq went out to sprint around the baseball field. When they came back, they announced there was a huge fight going on outside the fieldhouse doors. Steve went out to investigate. Seems that two to three guys were in the middle of a dustup that brought out a crowd of people. Steve saw one guy with a bat. Another guy was yelling about going home and getting his guns. The police showed up and patted several people down for weapons. Mary looked worried as Steve and I left the gym at the end of the evening. Her staff had to do some crowd control before the cops came in. I wonder what was so serious that those guys felt they had to let their conflict get that far. Knowing the neighborhood, it might have been some gang nonsense. It could have just been bad blood from a long time feud, but in any case, I'm sure it wasn't worth gaining the attention of the cops.

White Collar Washout

I did some research and find out something that I already knew--those who are members of USA Boxing, like I am, can't compete in white collar boxing matches. Looks like I wasted my time going down to JABB Gym this past Saturday to put my name in for their their next boxing show of that type. I had hoped there might have been some way to get a match that way, but I was foiled again.

Recently, there was an article about NYC banning white collar bouts due to safety reasons. Those matches are not sanctioned by USA Boxing. They exist in a shadowland between Toughman contests (which are also not sanctioned) and amateur matches. There are three rounds that last two minutes each, and both boxers get a trophy, regardless who was the victor. The idea behind that is that white collar boxers are made up mostly of professionals--lawyers, doctors, real estate executives, etc.--who allegedly aren't used to being told "no", and don't take it well when they are, so hence the "everyone's a winner" deal.

Legislators in NYC are looking into rewriting the rules so that white collar boxing matches can continue, which would be a good thing for the older gyms that depend on the revenue that white collar boxers bring in. That's how many private gyms have kept their doors open in recent years.

Afterglow

Rios showed up tonight. He's a swarthy guy who, like so many others, used to come around on a regular basis until other things in life intervened. Keith came in again, and even did some light pad work, but that was it.

I held pads for Ben for three rounds. Holding the pads (punch mitts) is something I need to practice more. It is a skill. If done correctly, it can be like sparring. Pads have to be held right to cut down on possible injury. If the other person is a hard puncher, like Ben, the person holding the pads has to hold them in a way to absorb the inpact properly.

There was a bit of a high in the gym coming off of Junior's win last night. Some of it rubbed off on Joe, who asked Steve if he was ready to have a match. However, Steve told Joe that if he had to ask, he might not be ready yet. The city-wide Park District championships are coming up, and Steve is looking at putting Saddiq in. Saddiq worked on his jab tonight, and it looked better.

I told Steve about me looking into signing up for a white collar boxing match in September. I was advised to check if those bouts are sanctioned by USA Boxing. I remember being told by someone else that they were not. Something to consider, especially if I got jacked up badly. There would be no protection insurance-wise if that is the case. Steve thought that there might not be the age restrictions in white collar boxing like there are under USA Boxing.

Closing Up Shop Early

Ellen came by to pick up Steve, so the the gym closed up earlier than usual. Got to meet their son, Eli, and he is adorable. They gave me a ride home, and the little guy slept the entire way. Now that's I've seen him, I think he looks a lot like Ellen.

Earlier in the evening, Keith stopped by again, looking like he wanted to get back in the game, but not quite sure how to do that. Gabe came in also, stating that he was going to St. Andrews tomorrow to watch Junior's fight. Steve had a copy of Junior's preliminary fight, and all the guys in the gym were crowded around Steve's laptop to view how he took out his opponent.

I'm a little nervous for Junior because I want him to win, especially after being accused of cheating last week. I think he can pull it off.

Last One Out Of The Room

Steve had told Mike to take the night off tonight. Mike lost his bout on Thursday, so he won't be going on to the semi-finals. He took a few hard shots and tired out early on. His opponent was tall with a long reach. His opponent was also out of the Evanston Boxing Club, an outfit who seems extremely lucky in winning matches.

The other Mike, the tall one, showed up briefly tonight in a pair of sandals. He asked Steve to step outside to talk to him, and I instantly got the feeling something was wrong. When Steve came back, he announced that Mike had quit the gym. He had told Steve he was very busy (he's a student) and didn't want to approach the sport half-assed. A few of the other guys made fun of the fact that tall Mike didn't come back in to say goodbye, but I understood--it was a pride thing.

Keith showed up again, and so did Mort, who hadn't been in the gym for I don't know how long. I remember how he slipped his phone number to my niece. I keep thinking that Mort might make a better boyfriend than that character she's mooning over now.

Steve hadn't slept much over the past couple of days. The combination of being at the Gloves and having a newborn son at home took its toll, so he jetted for home early. I closed up after all the other guys left. It's a nice feeling being the only one in the gym. I pretend that that it's my own personal workout space. I wish I could afford to have something like that at home.

He Punches, He Wins

The Golden Gloves is never without a bit of drama. After watching the unusual moves of his opponent, a guy from a place called Korea Gym, Junior figured out how to catch him with his punches. The guy went down twice, and the referee stopped the fight in Junior's favor. The coach of the other guy raised all kinds of hell, accusing both Junior and Steve of cheating.

The coach maintained that Junior was an open fighter and should not have put up against his guy. Steve easily proved otherwise, but the Korea Gym coach kept running his mouth. It got so bad that Gino, one of the refs, was also accusing Steve of misdeeds. Just an ugly scene.

Mike's fight is tomorrow night. Seems there are a lot of guys in his weight class and the officials had to double up a lot of the fights.

A Woman's Best Friend Is Her Heavy Bag

This week has been horrid. I didn't make the roller derby team, my landlord didn't check that I paid my rent and gave me an erroneous eviction notice, my boss and I had an arguement. What else is a woman to do? Go to the gym.

Every woman should have access to a heavy bag. Nothing like pounding out one's anger on it. You just envision whoever or whatever it was that pissed you off and then beat the bag into submission. I thought of taunts while I hit the bag. For the roller derby team: "So I'm supposedly not good enough even though I've been skating for 30 years? Take that!" For my landlord: "I'm taking your ass out for not posting my rent payment correctly for the third time!" For my boss? I danced around the bag and threw my hardest punches until I was so tired I had to sit down, catch my breath, and calm down for a round or two.

This past Wednesday, there was another of those moments when everyone in the gym froze. Junior hit Mike hard enough to knock the wind out of him during a sparring session. Mike groaned and crumpled to the canvas. He recovered, however, and finished out the time. I'm looking forward to seeing both of them compete in the Golden Gloves next week.

Tonight, Keith dropped in. "You stay out in Aurora?" I asked him. I remembered he had a girlfriend who was out that way. "Naw, I'm still in Evanston, but it's hard to get around without a vehicle," he said. "Yes, Lord, don't I know it," I said, agreeing with him. Last year at this time, I was driving to and from the Golden Gloves in my own car.

Judging by how frosty my boss and I have been towards each other most of this week, asking him if I can leave early for the Golden Gloves will probably be a waste of time. What did he tell me during our arguement the other day? I gave him a suggestion as to how I could get a rather difficult task he gave me and he tells me he didn't want to hear it. I'm always complaining and being "rude and insubordinate", he said. Another hard pop on the heavy bag. The chain holding the bag jerked angrily in the air. I do the work, regardless, don't I? I get things done, DON'T I?
My right hand smashed into the bag over and over.

No Cigar As Usual

After enduring the obnoxious people who were riding the trains on their way to a St. Patrick's Day parade in downtown Chicago this past Saturday, I made it to Windy City Boxing Gym to renew my boxing membership in USA Boxing. I was told straightaway by the head of the local boxing council that there was no Masters Division this year. No surprise there.

I ran into a referee who also takes pictures at the amateur matches. Brought a couple of pictures of myself, Steve and Junior that were taken at the match at the Sabre Room a couple of months ago. Junior has a hard expression on his face. I think the picture was taken after his opponent attempted to start a real fight with him after the bout.

Poppped

Junior gets carried away sometimes during sparring matches. Last night, he popped Saddiq in the face. Saddiq's eyes turned glassy and he slumped down to the floor of the ring. All action in the gym stopped to see what happened. Fortunately, he was okay. It was a little scary how quickly it happened.

My right wrist, right shoulder and right knee have been bothering me for days. I can't blame it on the fall I took in the roller rink last week anymore. Probably have been hitting the heavy bags too hard or improperly. My knee is a mystery, however. A sore spot appears there on and off. Have no idea what causes it or why. I've been thinking about having someone look at my knees for some time now. Arithritis keeps crossing my mind.

Weird R Us

Mary told me that some guy had been coming in this week asking to use the gym. She had taken his name and number, and told him she had given the message to Steve. The guy showed up around 6:00 PM on Friday, long before I arrived. Mary had already explained to the guy that Steve was out because his wife just had a baby. It seemed to her that the guy had not listened to nor believed her the first time. He told Mary that he allegedly had been calling for some time to inquire about boxing. He assumed that she would open up the gym for him simply because he wanted to work out, despite his not having paid for the class. I assured Mary that I would keep a lookout for that character, just in case he showed up. Always at least one oddball who shows up with a jones to workout each session.

Guys on hand in the gym: Danny, Big Corey, Saddiq, Junior. Plus, there was a Hispanic guy who had trained in the gym some time ago. I can't think of his name. . .he brought a friend with him to check things out. A quiet night. I was taking things a little easy because I was somewhat not into the workout. It happens. Some days you're feeling it, and other days, it's like going through the motions. Also, I didn't want to wear myself out very much before roller derby tryouts on Sunday.

Finally, Danger Is Here

Received an email from Steve stating that his and Ellen's son had been born this past Sunday. He actually gave the middle name of "Danger" to the child. Actually, that goes along nicely with the boy's first name, which is Eli. If their son becomes famous, he could always be known as Eli Danger. That is cool.

On hand in the gym: Junior, Andrew, Saddiq, Sarah, and a friend of Sarah's who came in to observe. Gilberto brought in two women, one of whom appeared to fascinated by what she saw. "Yeah, I can do this," she said, but she didn't ask enough questions about what was involved. Her friend didn't say much, so I don't know how interested she was. It remains to be seen if either of them will sign up.

I was still a little sore from a roller skating mishap that took place on Monday. I was showing off while skating backwards, slipped, fell, and my head bounced off the floor. I hurt my left shoulder, too, but I was able to work through it. Turned out to be a very good workout after all.

Rock Falls

Last week, we saw a video of some of the things that happened in Rock Falls, IL not long ago. Junior's fast hands took out an opponent in the first round. Mike, on the other hand, took some hard punches from his opponent, and didn't do so well. Junior won all of his matches. I wish a many a day I had the speed he has in his hands.

I think I have my mother's hard right hand, though. She punched me a couple of times that I remember when I was eleven years old. Both times was because I was smarting off. I don't know why she was mad during the first instance , but she snapped "Do you believe that I'll kick your ass?" What possessed me to answer "No", I will never figure out. Her right hand darted out like a hamster avoiding being a snack for a snake. I was standing in front of my bed. The force of the punch literally flipped me over the bed, and I crashed against the wall behind it and slumped to the floor.

The second time was a few months later. She yelled at me to clean the baseboards in the kitchen again, because apparently, I had not cleaned them right the first time. I've always hated to do housework, and I believe one of the reasons why is because Mom put so much emphasis on it being done all the time. I grumbled under my breath, not checking to see if she had indeed left the room before I started complaining. The next second, I found myself on my knees. That little woman had rabbit punched me in the back of my neck. I put my hand there, and when I pulled it away, my fingers were covered with blood. There is still a scar there to this day.

Despite of that, I do advocate spanking children if needed to curb bad behavior. I don't believe in drawing blood out of them, however.

Blood On The Floor

The ring in the gym is flat on the floor. Behind that is a exercise mat. I was laying on that, doing crunches, while Michael and Ben were sparring. Michael comes by and stands over me, saying something about blood, but I couldn't make out exactly what he said. His mouthpiece was in. I thought he meant he was bleeding. Then he said, "No, Ben is bleeding." I sat up to see Steve attempting to stem the flow of blood from Ben's nose. Emmmauel, who had come into the gym that night, was spraying cleaner on the various spots of blood that had been splashed on the floor of the gym.

Blood is not uncommon in the gym, but it was a little shocking to me last night. Ben has sparred before, but he had never been cut open. I didn't see the punch that produced the crimson, but others who did said it wasn't that hard. However, it was damaging, as Ben had to go out to the men's room to clean up. When he came back in, I noticed he was checking his face in one of the long mirrors in the gym. I thought, "He's going to be swollen tomorrow." I asked him, "Are you okay?" while looking at a streak of blood on his dark T-shirt. "I'm good," he said, but his face was red.

Michael told me he had a headache ever since he took those punches from Saddiq on Wednesday. "The school's clinic is closed until Monday", he told me when I suggested that he should see a doctor. Michael is a college student. "Try one of the city's free clinics," I said. "That may be a slight concussion."

Steve announced that his son will officially be two weeks late in being born as of this upcoming Tuesday. If the boy doesn't come out this weekend, Steve and Ellen's midwife has suggested they induce labor. "I thought it was going to happen the other night because she was having a lot of contractions," Steve said, "but I went back to sleep. I thought, 'We've been through this a few times, so I'm not going to get excited.'" "You would have woken up if you suddenly felt wetness and found her water had broken," I joked. I hope their baby is born this weekend. I can imagine that Ellen is not comfortable.

Junior and Mike (the other Michael who is married to a Swede), went more than five rounds in the ring during their sparring session. Mike is in good shape; however, at the end of it, he was more tired than Junior. I understand that Mike works out very hard, but Junior, who is about ten years younger, has energy to burn. I sparred with Junior once, and I was tired as a big dog afterwards. "You are too fast for me," I gasped.

Good Hitts

Had a good workout tonight. One of those nights where my energy was high, which was amazing, considering how I dragged around work today.

Michael and Saddiq got some sparring in, and Michael kept forgetting to keep his chin doen. Of course, he got hit a few times, and bled a little. "I'm going to send a picture of myself to my mom," he told me. "She's going to have a fit when she sees your face!" I exclaimed. "It's okay, she's in Texas," he grinned.

No baby yet for Steve and Ellen. He joked that their son was holding on to the inside of the womb in an effort not to come out. It's a waiting game at this point.

Six For The Cause

Steve sent me an email saying that he was going to stay home with his wife. I was thinking earlier this morning that would probably be a good idea if he did that. Better for him to be near his wife when the time comes, then having to make a mad scramble out of the gym.

The guys who came in tonight were Junior, Michael, Saddiq, a friend of Saddiq's, and Danny. Junior mentioned that he liked a horrible popular song that has the hook, "I'm in love with a stripper". Michael was saying he didn't think the song was that hot. I used to bring in a lot of old school tapes to play, but the young guys weren't that into the old school songs. Also, I got tired of hearing the same old stuff. Most of the popular music the guys like to listen to is not that good, but the heavy beats are appropriate for a workout.

Cold as hell outside this night, but I don't mind walking to--and sometimes from--the gym, no matter what the weather is. I used to take the bus sometimes, but that seemed like such laziness to me. The gym is only 15 to 20 minutes away walking, and these days, I could always use the extra exercise.

Two Guys Return and Contractions

The two guys, one of whom had been in Iraq, returned to the gym after their brief absence. One of them told Junior that he could get him into a club. Problem is, one has to be 21, and Junior won't be twenty until this summer. "Man, I'm going to be on the door, so I will comp you," the guy told him. "You got a real looking fake ID?" Sounded very illegal to me, but then I remembered I had a fake ID when I was Junior's age. Used it to get into a disco that was over a restaurant in downtown Chicago during my lunch hours. That was strange, a disco open during the day time. Ah, the early 1980's were fun.

Saddiq was the new guy in class today, and I showed him how to do some footwork. Steve worked with Junior for awhile, but had to go early and leave me in charge of the gym. No baby yet, but Ellen has been having mild contractions. "Doctor says it's normal," Steve explained. Having never had a child myself, I have to take his word for it.

Laura sent the article she did for her class about myself and boxing to Steve and I. She did an extremely nice job in capturing the gym and the people who populate it. I sent a copy to Margaret, the choir director at my church, and she commented about how observant Laura was, especially in regards to her descriptions of what goes on in the gym. I am curious to hear how her professor will grade her work.

Saw a tape of Junior and Mike's fights when they were at the State Championships last month. Mike got dusted by a blow to the chin from his opponent, and he lost. Junior dominated the guy that was in front of him, and the referee stopped it, giving the win to Junior. Junior's opponent was doubled over at one point, and extremely wobbly when the ref checked to see if he could continue.

Two Guys

Two stocky guys came into the ring on Wednesday. One of them told Steve that he hadn't been out of the military very long. I know that they signed up for the class--I observed them at the registration desk. They were nowhere to be seen on Friday. Some people are like that. They like the idea of boxing, but putting the work in is another thing.

Told my stepmother about the sparring session I had against Sarah on Wednesday. Steve kept telling me to move, and I kept standing there like a statue, taking the punches. Funny how I can stay on my toes while working on the bags, but once inside the ring, I start plodding like Frankenstein's monster. She told me about a relative of hers who recently experienced having an aneurysm. "You have to be careful taking punches to the head like that!" she said. "Things like that could happen." I told her I had head gear on, but that never convinces anyone that my brain is safe from injury.

Lan is gone for awhile. She was going to be in on Friday, but unfortunately, there was a death in her family. Friday was her last day in Chicago for awhile; she's off to military training for a few months.

Danny told me he studies psychology. I knew he worked, but I didn't know that he was also going to school. "I don't know what I'm going to do with my degree," he said. "I'm twenty, and have my whole life ahead of me, but I'm confused. It seems that a lot of people in my generation are about where they are going." I remember being confused when I was his age, too. "You can take advice from everybody," I told him, "but in the end, it has to be your own decision."

Champions All Around

Some sad news to report: Steve's beloved water dragon passed away. Appears that his pet had been sick, but had not showed major signs of distress. Usually, water dragons live for a long time, so this was a shock to the coach.

Two champions in the gym this week: Junior, still high off of his success at the IL State Championships, and nine year old Diego, who won a state championship several weeks ago. It was reported that another state champion, Montrell, did well against his opponents at the Nat'l Silver Gloves, and is on his way to winning the whole thing.

I guess Leslie and the other Cassandra gave the gym up. Neither of them have been seen since the first day of the current session. Corey and Andrew still come in, although Andrew was not there last night. Didn't see Cole and his roommate Nathan, either. Nate Sr. came in and went some sparring rounds with Steve and the other Corey, whom I shall refer to as Big Corey. Soft-spoken Joe came in, and so did Danny. I was the only woman there, as Lan is still away.

Diego's parents and siblings have been picking him up from the gym. Dad wasn't there yesterday, but his mom showed up with two girls who looked like the boy's older siblings. He appears to be the only boy. His mom looks so young. I wonder if she is even thirty years old yet.

I told Steve and the guys that I put my name in to try out for the Windy City Rollers, a local all-female roller derby league. "Oh, shit!" Junior exclaimed. "I bet your boss had something to say about that," Steve grinned. Les had told me earlier that he thought I was "bent on self-destruction". Sometimes I get the feeling that my boss never takes chances and has always lived his life as carefully as possible. A friend on a childfree message board I frequent wrote after I announced it there, "It amazes me that you're this soft-hearted, kind Christian woman who can beat the shit of anyone easily. I love that for some reason!" I got a good laugh from that.

Put feelers out on a masters boxing group, letting people know that the Chicago Golden Gloves start next month, and registration will be soon. I would love to get a match this year, but I've been disappointed repeatedly. Even if I only managed to convince some male masters boxers to get involved, I will be satisfied. The local LBC has got to recognize that masters boxers do exist and promote the tournament to us a little better than they have been.

Some More New Faces

Cole and his roommate Nathan appeared in class recently. Cole is a musician who is a friend of my ex-roommate Anna. He spotted me in the gym last week and asked, "Aren't you Anna's ex-roommate?" His roommate looked as if he had some training before. They can only attend the gym once a week because they have Bible Study on the other day the gym is open.

Gym was closed this past Friday because Steve and several others traveled to Rock Falls for the IL State Championship. I didn't go because Les was not going to be at work due to an all day seminar, according to his schedule. Due to all the changes going on at my job, it wouldn't have been a good idea for the both of us to be gone at the same time. Les did show up that afternoon because he scheduled two interviews, which he told me nothing about ahead of time. It was just as well, because the elder of my church passed away last Monday, and I attended his funeral Friday morning. My week wasn't that hot.

Can't wait to hear what happened down in Rock Falls.

Session Bets Are On

Four new people showed up for the first day of the winter session this past Friday: Leslie, who works at a bookstore; Corey, who showed up with his son; Andrew, who's in his early 20s; and Cassandra (a different one). Leslie said that she doesn't want to spar, and I suspect Cassandra doesn't want to, either. Cassandra complained big time during the exercises that Steve put the new people through, and she was the first one of them to leave the gym. She may also be the first to drop out, but time will tell.

Junior held the pads for me, and he did a good job. I was good and tired afterwards, but that was exactly what I needed. Between my diet and boxing, my weight should get down.

Fight At An Old Show Palace

The Sabre Room was big time years ago. People like Frank Sinatra, Liza Minelli and Dean Martin would perform there. It's popularity as a concert venue has gone down, but people still rent the place for weddings, proms and parties. A boxing show was held there last night. Mike, Larry, and Junior showed up to fight, but only Larry and Junior were matched. One of the things I noticed was that the cigar smoke wasn't as heavy as it usually is at other show fights we've attended. Based on conversations I heard, the audience seemed to be more knowledgeable about boxing than at the other shows, too.

I had seen a stocky, tall man standing near the room the boxers used to change their clothes and get matched up. He looked familiar, but I didn't slow down to pay better attention. Later, he was introduced as one of the special guests that evening. He was Ernie Terrell, a former heavyweight champion who once boxed Muhammad Ali.

Larry gave up a few pounds to box a guy from the Evanston Boxing Club. Boxers from that club don't seem to be that good, but they manage to make it into competitions such as the Golden Gloves. The guy was muscle bound with tatoos that made him look like a regular at a bikers' bar. Larry handled business early, causing the referee, a jovial guy named Kitchen, to give his opponent an eight count. Then Larry became winded at the end of the second round. He still managed to cause the ref to give his opponent a couple more eight counts. Maybe the ref should have stopped it after that, but the fight continued, and the tide turned. Larry ended up getting hurt and getting an eight count on himself. The fight was stopped soon afterwards because Larry was too tired to go on. We had to help him out of the ring. Larry laid down for a long time back in the boxers' room. He later told Steve, "Man, in all the sports I've played (b-ball, football, wrestling, kickboxing), I have never been THAT tired."

Junior fought a guy out of Garfield Park named Derrick. He seemed a little tentative at first, and there were times during the rounds when they circled each other, hesitating to throw punches. A frustrated guy in the audience yelled, "Come on, this is not chess!" at one point. When Junior got going, he was on point. As Steve said, Junior made adjustments when he figured out Derrick's moves. Junior likes to showboat sometimes. In the middle of a round, I think it was the last one, he taunted Derrick by telling him "It's over!" For Derrick, it was. Junior had bloodied his nose and hurt him several times. The judges gave Junior the decision.

Unfortunately, Derrick decided he was going to act hard. Immediately after the bout, Derrick tripped Junior near the judges' table. "What's the matter, man?" Junior asked him. Derrick got up in his face barking, "What's up, man? What you want to do?" I recognized that west side temper right away. My sisters and I often employed it during street fights when we were kids. But last night, we weren't on the street, and Derrick had picked the wrong moment to defend his wounded pride. Junior later said that he was not going to back down. Fortunately, an assistant coach from Fuller Park stepped in and put the breaks on the situation.

Steve told George, who is Derrick's coach, that he would never, never tolerate unsportsmanlike behavior out of any of his boxers. Common sense should have told George to reprimand Derrick on the spot. Instead Steve was told, "You're talking to the wrong guy. I don't care what he does." Excuse me? His boxer could have set off a brawl which could have jeopardized having any more boxing shows at the Sabre Room, brought the police in, got a whole lot of people hurt, etc. He didn't care about that? Totally tripped out.

Departures

Lan told me last night that she'll be shipping off to training to another state soon. She's in the Army Reserves, and waiting for her orders. It means she'll be gone for several months. Then I ran into Cassandra on the bus this afternoon; she's moving to another town, not returning to Chicago until summer.

I wasn't in the gym on Wednesday due to not feeling well again. Earlier on Friday, I had a chest X-ray taken to finally determine why the crud in my chest keeps hanging on. Guess I find out the results sometime in the upcoming week. I felt a little wore out as the night went on, but I trained away.

Steve has a new system for tracking progress among the boxers this year. He had his laptop with him last night. He has created a spreadsheet to record what we do in the gym like jumping rope, sparring, etc. I got a gold star because I did the most, but I still didn't do all of what Steve had mapped out. I asked if he was going to put the new people on the spreadsheet who'll come in next week when the winter session begins. "Most of them probably will drop out after a couple of weeks," he said, which is true, unfortunately.

Small Crowd

It was raining, and a damp cold permeated the streets. The weather might have been the reason why very few people came into the gym.

A woman was brought into the gym by Mary. The woman seemed to very excited that there was a boxing gym in the fieldhouse. She told Steve she was going to sign up for the next session. I couldn't help but wonder how short-lived her enthusiasm would be. It's a common scene: someone is all gung-ho to train, then they are gone long before the session ends.

The upper respiratory tract infection and the nagging cough I had is practically gone. Makes it very easy to work out these days without that hanging around. The workout tonight was very good. My energy level is better than it has been in over a month. Now all I have to do is keep it up by eating right and taking better care of myself in 2006.

Steve's wife, Ellen, came by; they had to go to a party, so there was no hanging around late in the gym tonight. She looks very healthy. He told me she has really taken care of herself during the whole time she's been pregnant. "The baby has been kicking a lot," she told me. "He's probably ready to come out," I said. Women have told me that a kicking baby in the womb is a restless one, especially near the end of the pregnancy. It might be an old wives' tale, but who knows?

Friday was the second day in the row I actually exercised; yesterday, I volunteered at a kids' roller skating party. I was still sore from that, but I had to go down to the gym. Wish I could go roller skating more. It's great cardio that would go hand in hand with endurance in the ring.

Energy Burst

The antibiotics must be working, because I had a lot of energy in the gym last night. Of course, I need to take probiotics to replace the good bugs that the antibiotics will kill off, but I'm going with the energy flow. After a visit to the foot doctor, I ended up at the gym a half-hour early. I was in the ring with Steve for three rounds. He wore a chest protector, and let us take turns punching away. Poor Steve's left hand is numb because something happened to a nerve, so he kept it behind his back during the rounds.

Another old home week situation with Gabe and Jermaine in attendance at the gym. Both guys are in college, so they don't come in often. Steve told me that Keith was talking about coming back and training. He has a seasonal job that is ending, so he has some time right now. I still wonder what happened to Jeff, who was a great help around the gym. There were rumors that he was in a homeless shelter, but that was never proven.

The youth boxing program is full of 2005 Illinois Silver Gloves champions. Montrel, Nate Jr., Alex, Kevin and Diego all won their bouts in Rockford, IL a little over a week ago.

A Sick Month

Wasn't in the gym at all this week. Finally discovered the illness plaguing me since before Thanksgiving is an upper respieratory infection. I have antibiotics to take care of it. I was too sick to go to the gym on Wednesday. Luckily, I caught a showing of "The Grinch Who Stole Christmas". Not the Jim Carrey version, the animated one from 1966 with Boris Karloff as the voice of the Grinch.

Yesterday was the single ministry's annual Christmas dinner and gift exchange. As usual it was woefully unattended, which is the main reason why I'm not planning monthly events for the ministry next year. I cut it down to six. Also, I've become more busy with my other activities, boxing included, and I can't spend time on something that appears not to be appreciated by the very folks for whom it was created. All I get is excuses from various church singles as to why can't go to the events, or either they say nothing and just don't show up. No matter how much I talk up the events before and afterwards ("You all missed a good time!"), it doesn't seem to generate much interest.

I did get some boxing in at Dave and Buster's, a restaurant/video game emporium about two weeks ago. They have a boxing game there, and my boss was eager to see how well I'd do on it. I won the first round, but was KO'd in the second. Les, and the two program directors who also attended the luncheon we had that day, didn't want to try it out.

A Reason For Low Energy

I was in the gym, the day after my 44th birthday, and my energy level was extremely low. I spent more time standing around or sitting down. The next day, I woke up sick as a dog, the congestion in my lungs having moved up to my sinuses. Good thing I had begged off going up to Rockford to help Steve out at the Silver Gloves. I probably would not have made it through the entire day.

I've been sick with cold/flu for about a month. Maybe I should have cooled out on exercising, but I keep reading that it is good to workout while sick if you don't overdo it. In my case, it had the opposite effect.

Last Boxing Tournament Of The Season

Steve was talking to Swifty, who is one of the referees who is always at tournaments, show fights, and the Golden Gloves. Sarah, Mike's wife, had a bout against Jessie, a rather tough fighter out of the Hamlin fieldhouse. Sarah and Jessie are good friends. Swifty asked Steve if that was Sarah's first match. Steve told him that she had fought three times in her native Sweeden. Swifty said, "This is why I don't like to watch good-looking girls box. They don't work hard enough because they're afraid of messing up their faces." A judge sitting nearby nodded his head in agreement. Obviously, if she's fighting, she ain't worried about getting a few bruises and cuts on her face. That's men for you.

We were at Brooks Park, which is way out northwest. Alex and his younger brother Kevin both got fights, both of them looked very good in the ring, and both of them won. I worked the corner for both of them. The kid that Kevin fought came over to the corner to shake hands/touch knuckles afterwards, and to my surprise, he touched his glove to my hand. That was the first time I had ever been acknowledged in the corner by the opposing boxer. Usually they bypass with a surprised look that says, "What is that girl doing in the corner?"

Jovan started out fast and tough in his bout, but got winded in the second match. He ended up getting a standing eight count--twice. His opponent kept him up against the ropes for most of the third round, and he lost his match. Mike fought a guy with huge arms. The guy was very aggressive, and never gave Mike an inch. Mike ended up with a little blood on his shirt, and a loss.

Junior and Larry crapped out again in terms of getting fights. I especially felt bad for Larry. It appears that the other coaches are scared to put their boys up against him. Larry is a solid built guy.

Of all the fieldhouses I've been inside for tournaments, Brooks was the brightest in terms of lighting. Maybe it is a newer building. Looked like a strange set up for a boxing gym. It looked like the program just had a long hallway that had two heavy bags swinging, boxing posters plastered around, and a weight room tucked in a corner. A ring had been set up in the middle of the basketball court for tonight's event.

I was surprised to learn that Junior has a girlfriend. Junior has never mentioned her before. I don't know. . .Junior always seemed too antsy to just have one girl. But then, most of the really young guys in the ring, those who are in their late teens and early twenties, strike me as being that way. I can always tell the difference in priorities between them and the older guys, especially Steve, Neil, Mike and Rob, who are married.

Been reading Box Like The Pros, a book by "Smokin" Joe Frazier, who once took Muhammad Ali out during a match. Much of the stuff has been covered in other how-to-box books, but there a few things that were new to me. For example, Frazier explains that leather jump ropes are better than lighter speed ropes because of the resistance they offer. I also liked how he broke it down about going to a boxing gym as opposed to going to a health club that offers boxing classes. I had to agree with him on that. Many white collar boxing classes have popped up recently, but many of them are little more than glorified aerobic classes with gloves. In order to learn the proper ways of the game, it is better to go to a place where boxing is the primary focus.

A Beat Down

Still trying to figure out how I hurt my wrist during last night's sparring session. It might have happened while I was trying to deflect a punch from Sarah. After it was all over, I realized, "She's gotten good over the past few months." I also realized that I had taken a good ass whupping.

Steve told me, "You can't tell yourself that you're tired. Suck it up!" But inside my head, I kept yelling for the bell to ring to end the rounds. My problems began when I started out too fast in round one. Steve warned me to pace myself. When the fourth round came around, I was dying, having spent the previous three rounds plodding around the canvas. I remember a series of right and left hooks raining towards my head. One of them hit me hard enough to stun me.

I'm sure that Laura, the journalism student, got an eyefull of stuff to write about that. She talked to several of the other boxers, and had met with Steve a couple of days before, so she was able to get a lot of material. She was really surprised to find out that two other sparrers, Mike and Sarah (I kept calling his wife Cheryl, and she is the other Sarah, not the one who beat me) were married.

It was sort of like old home week again on Wednesday night. The gym was packed, as I figured it would be coming off of a holiday. Keith, a good boxer who unfortunately, was low on motivation, showed up. He told me he was planning to come back into the gym to work out more regularly.

Rob, who will soon be licensed as a pastor, also came in. Rob always asks about how things are going at my church, then we get into discussions about God and religion. God turned Rob's life around. He had been involved in a lot of bad stuff that eventually put him in jail when he was a young man. These days, he's a solid family man, has a steady job, and has his life on track.

The darn chest cold is still hanging on. One of the choir members told me during rehearsal tonight that maybe it wasn't a good idea for me to spar. Maybe so. A turtle would have been faster than me last night. I was sitting with my head in my hands at work earlier, and Les asked what was wrong. "I'm just tired and sore," I said.

The Interview

Today, I met with Laura, a nice young woman who is a journalism student at Northwestern University. For about an hour in a nearby coffee shop, she interviewed me about my involvement in boxing.

She asked many interesting questions. One was about how I feel about the salaries that professional boxers receive. Pros who have worked their way up deserve the big paydays. Boxing is not an easy sport, and the potential for injury is higher than in most other sports in my opinion. Unfortunately, some pros have become so selective and/or careless about protecting their reps, that some of them just take a bout for the paycheck. Once the love of the game is gone, they should hang up the gloves and leave with dignity.

Laura also brought out something in my subconscious that partially fuels my interest in the sport. I told her how I had been the kid who was picked on unmercifully in grade school (and to a lesser extent, in high school). I was always the smallest, always wore glasses, a source of jealousy because I was a good student, and in grade school, I was a big crybaby. I didn't win most of the schoolyard fights back then. If I had the skills that I have now, I would have sent a lot of kids to the nurse's office. In a weird way, knowing how to box somewhat evens the score, even though those days of peer persecution are long gone.

Sprints On Older Legs

Last night, Steve and several of us went across the hall to an empty basketball gym to run sprints. We usually do five in a row. Steve counts down to ten, then we dash to the other side, touch the wall, and speed back to start as fast as we can. I came in dead last the few times I ran. I could do sprints twice, then I would have to slump against the wall for rest.

There is no way I'm going to outrun the younger guys, especially Junior, who is 19 years old. When I was a kid, I loved to run. I would huff and puff, because before I was 11 years old, I could not breath out of my nose. Had bad adenoids, so I had no choice but to breath out of my mouth. But I was a fast little dart. My kindergarten teacher would always warn me, "Hillari, don't run so fast and so much!", but I would keep speeding. My mom wasn't crazy about me running all the time, either, especially if I was running from her to keep from being spanked. Of course that never worked. When she caught me, the beating would be worse. "What have I told you about running from me!" she'd yell as the strap came down across my legs.

These days, I turn my nose up at running for the buses and trains. That's mostly because my hatred of public transportation has been high since I lost my car to an accident over the past summer. The other part of that is, I have lost a lot of the joy I had for running. It's a sure sign of getting older when you're thinking, "There'll be another bus in awhile. I'll let that one go."

Steve stood in the middle of the floor with the heaviest medicine ball in the gym and said, "Let's play chase the chicken!" Lan and I looked at each other. "Uh, we think we'll skip that one," we said. Mike was the only one who was up for it. The game is, one person throws the medicine ball, and the other person chases after it, brings it back to the thrower, and the process is repeated. Mike's in good shape. He was chasing the ball for awhile. I did that once some months ago in the ring. I was as tired as I would have been if I had sparred with someone.

My endurance level is strange. Some days it is very low. I'll be in the middle of the second round of a sparring session, trying to find energy to keep my hands up, praying for the bell to ring. Other days, I can do eight or nine rounds on the heavy bags and be ready for more. Maybe it has something to do with my iron levels, or not eating enough fruits and veggies, or seldom getting eight hours of sleep (I'm a major night owl). I worry that if I ever get a real fight, I'll fade early, get pummeled, and suffer the indignity of having the referee stop the fight.

Comments On My Boxing

Last Thursday, one of the choir members, Paulette, dropped me off in front of my apartment after our rehearsal. I had told her that I was very sore from participating in boxing class the night before. "You know what you have to do to keep that from happening," she said. She meant that I should stop boxing. She's always telling me, out of great concern, that I should leave it alone. In true mom fashion (she has two daughters, and is a grandmother), right before I went inside the building she said, "Make sure you take some ibuprofen!"

Margaret, the choir director, and her husband, Glynn, were on me for a long time about taking up pugalism. Margaret would groan and say things like, "What about your face? Your head?" Glynn took it one step further. We always stand in a circle and pray after choir rehearsal. For weeks he would burst out with, "And I pray that Hillari stops boxing!" Now when he sees me, he greets me with "Hey, Champ!" Others at church have taken to calling me that as well. The pastor even used me as an illustration in one of his sermons. He was preaching a series of sermons on the book of Nehemiah. Nehemiah went off on some nobles who were exacting usury from the people. The Scripture reads, "I consulted with myself and contended with the nobles". The pastor gave an illustration of what contended means. "When our dear sister Hillari steps in the ring with an opponent, she contends with them!" The congregation got a good giggle out of that.

Now I wouldn't say that Roger, the pastor of my church, is a champion of women's rights. We were in a deacon's board meeting a few months ago, and the wife of the chairperson came in briefly to speak with her husband. Roger joked, "Alex is giving her his dinner order!" He has made other comments that place him on the anti-feminism side. However, he has never said to me that he thought I should not box. In fact, I invited Steve to church one Sunday, and on his way out, Roger shook his hand. When he found out that Steve was my coach, Roger asked, "Is she any good?" "She's gotta stop dropping her left hand," Steve smiled.

I remember when I told my boss, Les, that I boxed. I hadn't been working where I'm at now for very long, and I don't remember how the subject came up. However, I'll never forget the look of concern and shock on his face. "But Hillari, you could get hurt!" he exclaimed. Another time he told me, "You really should find another sport to participate in." I think I had been dragging around the office because I had a hard sparring session the night before. "But Les, I like the sport," I protested. "Why don't you go into martial arts?" he suggested. "It seems to be more civilized than boxing." I had been involved in martial arts, long enough to receive a yellow belt. I often went home sore after those classes, as well. "People hit each other in martial arts class, too," I said, looking at him over my glasses.

After listening to him attempt to warn me away from the ring several times, I grew curious about his aversion to boxing. "Have you ever been in a fist fight?" I asked him. "No," he replied. "Not even with your sisters?" I queried further. "Oh, no! If I had hit one of my sisters, I would have been in big trouble," Les said, in a serious tone. I had to investigate further. "Not even in grade or high school?" "Nope. Guess I was too chicken," he chuckled. I have known other guys who have never used their fists on anyone, but it's still a surprise to me when I hear that. Guess I'm a little old fashioned about men and women's roles sometimes, and I should know better. I tried to invite him to a boxing show last year, when I thought I would have a match, but he shook his head. "You're not that squeamish," I teased him. "No, it's not that. I just don't want to see you get hit," he explained. Well, he's a peaceful, mild-mannered man, and that is to be respected.

What tickles me is when kids in the fieldhouse see me in the gym, especially the little boys. A couple of weeks ago, I entered the gym, and two grade-school age boys were sitting and talking to Steve. I greeted Steve, and the boys gave me odd looks. I heard one of them ask Steve, "She boxes?" I thought to myself, "Yes I do!" The kids seem to get over the idea of a woman boxing rather quickly, though. I'll often stop and show them around the gym, then ask them to stop in again when Barry, the youth boxing coach, is present. I remember three kids, two boys and their sister, who used to hang around the gym a couple of summers ago. The girl was interested in boxing, and I used to let her wear my bag gloves sometimes.

Broken Noses and Other Mishaps

Discovered that Josh apparently broke his nose during a sparring sesson with Junior some time ago. Josh had some problems breathing, went to the doctor, and discovered he not only had a blood clot, but that his nose had been busted. No wonder he hasn't been in the gym for awhile.

Then I learned that a couple of boxers in the youth program have had troubles. One is currently in jail for having sex with a minor, another appears to have a drug problem. It is perplexing how boxing is a savior for so many young men, but some still manage to get caught up in bad situations.

Mike showed up last night with his wife. Cheryl is her name, I believe. She boxes also. She was in the ring against Ben, who had a time with her, and with Junior, who did his usual fast moves. She moves very well. I overheard her husband say they had attempted to spar in their living room, but it did some damage to the new carpeting, so they had to abandon the idea.

Hattie came in, and I showed her how to do some exercises with the medicine balls. I like the medicine balls, although I don't use them as much as I should. I even have a 10 pound one at home. She told me her arms were still hurting from hitting the heavy bags. It takes time to get used to working with both the light and the heavy bags. The new persons always complain of sore muscles and raw knuckles. I had the same thing when I first started four years ago.

After the big show he did on Wednesday, Mort was no where to be found last night. I understand he works a lot, so it is difficult for him to come to the gym. As usual, Cassandra was a no-show. Sometimes I wonder if she knows the class meets on Friday.

The other night when I was on my way to choir rehearsal, I ran into Kim, who used to come to the gym a couple of sessions ago. She had said then that she wasn't long for the class. I noticed that she let her hair grow out; she had worn a short cut while she was attending the gym.

I was a little surprised that Kevin didn't come in last night. He seems so eager to learn the game.
My muscles were still a little sore last night, but I did several rounds on both heavy bags, plus a few on the light bags. There was plenty of sparring last night, but I don't believe I would have been up to it. Sometimes I do have to remember I'm in my 40s, not my 20s.

Just Like Old Home Week

It appeared that most of the people who hadn't been in the gym for awhile decided to stop in tonight. Mort, Junior's friend was there; Mike, whose wife boxes at Hamlin; Giovanni or Joe, as we call him, came in; Neil, who had been off a few days; Jose and his friend, who hadn't been there since last session dropped in. There was also a new guy there who hadn't seen before. Big dude with glasses and a bald head.

Cassandra showed up very late. It was darn near 8:00 PM when she slithered in. I first saw her in the washroom. I heard her talking, but when I finished with my business in the stall, I didn't see her holding a cell phone. Odd. She didn't stay long.

Very good workout tonight! I was popping the heavy bags. Steve opened the weight room, and Lan, myself, and Junior went in there to pump up. Finally, Gilberto had to put us out. We stayed in the fieldhouse until 9:30 PM. "The cops come by, see the building open, then complain to Mary that it's open past closing time," he explained.

The day after Thanksgiving, Junior and Neil have matches waiting for them in Waukegan. Lan said she could drive them up there. Steve asked if I could go along to help them out in the corner. I don't have to work that day, so I think I'll be able to go. Steve can't go--he'll be in Boston. It'll be fun to work the corners for them.

Slow Wednesday Workout

I was at the gym, but I felt like I wasn't working hard enough. Some days, I feel more sluggish than usual.

Kevin came back to the gym. I heard him say he was gone for a minute because he had to catch up on his schoolwork. A few others of the new people came in as well. I wasn't surprised that Cassandra didn't show up.

There is a show fight tomorrow downtown. Sure wish I could go, but the choir director would beat me down. It's too close to the church's talent show, and I need to practice the song I'm going to sing.