Dancing In The Boxing Gym

Tall Kenny (pictured above) came in for extra practice.  He's fighting at Brooks Park next week.  I wanted to fight, but there was no opponent for me.  Later, Alan said he had forgotten to put a bid in for me to get a fight.  "You've got to grab and let me know that you want to fight," he said.  "There'll be a next time," I said, but I wonder.  It was suggested by my stepmother that the fight I had in October should have been my last one.  She pointed out how I was breathing hard and ran out of gas then.  I'm thinking that perhaps she's right, but then, I was looking forward to trying to get a trophy at Brooks.  It would have been a nice birthday present (my birthday is the day after the Brooks show).  If there is a last hurrah for me, it'll be a long time coming, since I'm usually not able to pick up fights until around the holidays, so my last, last fight may not be until late 2012.  I keep going back and forth with this, I know.

Activity in the gym was pumped up tonight.  Colonel brought more of his old school music in, and this time, he brought a great sounding boombox with him, the type that you plug an iPod into.  Leon was impressed so much by the music that he asked Colonel to download the songs on his iPod.  In between rounds of practice, I was stepping to a lot of the tunes.  Ray came in, heard the music and said, "Colonel got the dusties on?"  Colonel told me he had about 70 to 80 songs on there, but more were at home.  But he didn't want to download much of what his son had.  "My son likes all that rap, and I don't understand that.  Why is it that every MF on the stage in a rap concert has a microphone?  Back in the day there were only two mics -- one for the lead singer and one for the rest of the group!" he said.  "Like The Temptations, for example," I said while imitating the moves of David Ruffin on one mic, and of the other group members on the other mic.  "You are telling your age!" Colonel laughed.  "I'm Your Puppet" by James and Bobby Purify was one of the songs that came on.  As many times as I've heard that song -- I believe I was five or six when it was first released -- it never occurred to me that it's a good song to which to step.  Each time Reggie would catch me dancing, he'd laugh.  "Hillari, teach me how to step!" he said, so I showed him the basic six count that was taught to me by Willie. 

The sparring action involved Reggie, Ray, Oscar, Leon, and Kevin.  Something happened between Kevin and Oscar while my back was turned.  Oscar was laying on the canvas, then he sat up and took his gear off.  Several of us gathered around the ropes to see what was going on.  From what I gathered, Kevin had been pressuring Oscar the whole round, then Oscar ended up being pushed down. 

In the photo above, Kevin leans against the ropes, waiting on Ray to make a move.  Alan told him awhile later, "Kevin you've got to listen to me when you're in there."  Kevin's nose had been injured; I'm not sure by whom.  Alan suggested that he not spar for a couple of weeks.  "I'm 37 years old.  The clock is ticking," Kevin said, explaining why he didn't want to beg off of sparring.  "It doesn't matter.  What is two weeks to wait?" Alan told him.  I believe Kevin would have loved to get a fight at Brooks, but in light of his injury, that wouldn't be a good idea. 

Again, I was working on throwing my right correctly.  Ever since I was hit by a car back last winter, I've had an aversion to turning my right side into the punch and putting my full weight into it.  Several months ago, I couldn't turn properly because my left knee -- which took the brunt of the hit -- was so painful and unstable that I couldn't do it.  Now that it's healed (as much as it's going to be healed), I've developed a bad habit of not executing that punch the way it's supposed to be.  I'll be working on that for awhile. 

I told Pastor Roger that I might get Isaac another toy, one of those inflatable punching toys that one hits and it pops right back up.  My younger siblings and I had several of those when we were kids.  "It'll be good practice for boxing," I told the pastor.  "I don't want my son to learn violence," he said.  "But boxing is a gentlemanly sport," I protested.  Pastor smiled and said, "You can use the argument that boxing is mentioned in the Bible to convince my wife that it would be good thing for Isaac to take lessons."  It certainly sounds as if shadow boxing is being referenced in 1 Corinthians 9:26.  After all, the sport did originate in Greece, which is one of the countries referenced in the Good Book.

Boxing to the Oldies

It was the day before Thanksgiving, and most were out because they started their festivities early.  None of the other women were there, so I was it in terms of representing the female component.

Colonel (in the photo above) came in with several of his CDs.  He had been threatening to bring in some oldies for weeks, and he brought in some good ones.  The greatest hits of Rare Earth, Jr. Walker and the All Stars, and Sly and the Family Stone were played.  Alan said to me, "I like this music better than what is usually played."  Nate Jr. and Tall Kenny came to the gym to work out, and they had initially cut on the radio which is perpetually stuck on the hip-hop/dance/house music channel.  Colonel's old school stuff was a welcome change from that.

Ralphie came in later.  Alan had been hoping that Ralphie would come in earlier to spar with Reggie.  Instead, Reggie sparred with Kevin.  Kevin did not hang back on the ropes as much, but he was talking about how hard Reggie hits.  

I was on the bags, then shadowboxing a lot on the ring.  I think that I don't throw my right hand as nearly as much as I throw my jab.  I concentrated on my right hand and executing hooks and upper cuts.  Colonel showed me how to bend my knees a little then come up as I throw uppercuts to put a little more force behind them.

Two Chicago cops came in to observe what was going on.  One cop had been in there before, but his partner looked new to me.  Colonel and Alan always engage the cops in conversations when they come in.

In this photo, Kevin helps Nate Jr. put on his gloves (Alan, who's in the background, is shadowboxing in the ring)..  Tall Kenny and Nate Jr. could have sparred, but they said that Barry would rather they not do that unless he's there to monitor it.  I've always known Tall Kenny to tower over me, but I remember when Nate Jr. barely reached my shoulder.  Now I have to look up to him. 

I've been skipping Tuesdays on my exercise schedule; this week was no exception.  I have to make up that day tomorrow, so I guess whenever I get up, I'll pop a DVD in and do a quick workout.  Hopefully, it'll counteract the pounds I'm sure to gain.  My stepmother is a good cook, and I'll be having dinner with her sometime later.

Let's Go Light

When I first walked into the field house, I turned back to see Alan walking behind me.  "I heard a rumor," he smiled.  "What's that?" I asked.  "That Hillari is Jewish," he said, and we both chuckled.  Alan and I had gone to a service at a synagogue this past Saturday.  I had been to weddings in synagogues, but I had never been to one for a regular service, so Alan offered to take me to a service.  The service was held at a Reform synagogue, not the one where Alan normally goes.  He thought taking me to an Orthodox service right off the bat might have been too much for an introduction to a Jewish religious service.  I was surprised when I walked into the room and saw a neighbor of mine there.  She had told me she was Jewish, but she did not mention where she went to worship.  It was an interesting service, with the rabbi encouraging discussion about passages from Genesis 23, where Abraham buys a burial spot for his wife Sarah, who had recently passed away. After that service, which was held upstairs, Alan showed me the sanctuary that was on the first floor.  It was really nice looking.  There was a bar mitzvah service going on, and the place was filled with children. 
 
Leon came in tonight, and he ended up sparring with Kenny.  Not Kenny, Colonel's son, but Kenny who's in high school and who trains with Barry.  I hadn't seen Kenny for awhile.  He's become even taller than the last time I saw him.  I prayed that Leon wouldn't hurt Kenny, and he didn't.  They had a couple of rounds before Leon was tired out.

Kevin sparred with Oscar.  Kevin's not bad -- he just has to break the habits of a) keeping his hands down, b) crouching next to the ropes and waiting on his opponent to throw punches, and c) watching the time clock.  Oscar starts off slow, but when he gets going, he's gone.  Oscar got Kevin in the face several times.  "He really hits hard," Kevin commented afterwards.  Oscar was hunting Kevin down all over the ring.

Sarah and I sparred, but we agreed to go light.  However, there was one uppercut that shook my upper teeth.  Good thing my mouth was closed, and I was wearing a mouthpiece.  I was surprised that I wasn't exhausted at the end of the second round, but my energy was spent by the middle of the third round.  My chin was down like it was supposed to be, and for once, I kept my eyes on my opponent instead of closing my eyes and dropping my head.  Alan kept telling me to work my way in with the jab, and I did to decent effect.  But my throwing hooks wasn't effective at all.  Sarah's too tall, and I didn't time any of the hooks properly.  I went back to throwing jabs and hooks to the body, but not putting full force behind them. 

Leon said that he had recently been in a motorcycle accident.  His wrist was fractured when his bike flipped over.  Luckily for him, the accident wasn't worse than that.  "There's been a lot of hand injuries going on lately," I told him, thinking about Ray and Jacob's thumbs.  

What A Difference Age Makes

I was surprised to see a different speed bag hanging up (in the photo above) when I got inside the gym Wednesday evening.  I like it a lot better than the other black, somewhat funny shaped speed bag that was there before.  I worked it for three rounds, and I liked the feel of it. 

Not many people in the gym tonight: Jacob, Amy, Sarah, Igor, Reggie, and Kevin.  Josh showed up at 8:45 PM.  "You don't think you're going to get much of a workout," Alan told him as he checked the time.  Josh replied, "I can get a couple of rounds."  He may have gotten one in, as it took time for him to wrap his hands.  Plus, he was talking to Alan for a few minutes.

The only sparring took place between Kevin and Reggie (the two guys in the ring in the above photo; Alan is watching from ringside).  Kevin kept pointing out that Reggie was quick.  "He keeps hitting me in the face," Kevin gasped a few times during the action.  "That's because you don't keep your hands up!" Alan said.  No matter how many times Alan pointed that out to him, Kevin kept his hands down.  I noticed that Reggie was giving Kevin chances to get off of the ropes instead of just charging in on him. 

Sigh. . .Igor (the guy in this picture).  Some people don't change.  While I was taking pictures of Kevin and Reggie's sparring session, Igor kept interrupting me to take several pictures of him.  Over and over he kept telling me how many prints he wanted, and that he wanted them on Monday.  It wasn't easy to hold down my exasperation, but I evenly told him after the umpteenth time, "I got it, Igor, but I'm going to wait until I have more pictures on the camera before I print all of them.  It's going to be awhile before I do that."  My purpose of taking pictures in the gym is not to have a portfolio of pictures featuring Igor. 


"Do you mind if you don't spar tonight?  There's not many people here," Alan said to me.  "No, I don't care.  I've been feeling old this week anyway," I said, and both Alan and I grinned.  He's been complaining about his back, and today he was talking about dragging around.  My lower back has been bothering me lately, and my knees, well. . .the both of them hurt every day, the right one worse than the left one.  Alan was talking about him maybe not sparring anymore if he keeps feeling stiff and sore.  I've been groaning since October about my various aches and pains.  I think both Alan and I (we're ten years apart in age) are showing our years. 

Jacob no longer has to wear the little cast he had on his thumb, but his thumb still feels sore.  He didn't ask his doctor if he could spar.  Alan figured his doctor would most likely tell Jacob not to do it. 

I like this shot I took near the end of the evening. . . I didn't realize that Jacob (far left), Alan (in the middle), and Reggie (on the right) were all laughing when I snapped the picture. 

A few seconds later, I just moved the camera over to the left so I could get Kevin (the redhead on the far left) in the picture.  I don't remember what the guys were laughing about.  Probably another dirty joke. . .there are so many ones told down at the gym, but since this is a family blog, I don't dare print them.  Trust me, they're funny.

"Stay On His. . . !"

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wednesday Warpath

Alan had to work late, so he was not at the gym Wednesday night.  When I got there, a man and his two kids were standing a few feet from the gym entrance.  Jilberto came down the hall to open the door.  "Mary said to make sure no one is in the gym that hasn't paid to be there", he told me.  He gave me the impression that Mary was on the warpath that evening about that, so I was a bit suspicious about the guy who was there with his kids.  It never fails.  When the coach is out, someone always shows up to check out the gym.  Sometimes, there's no problem, but at other times, I end up having to corral someone who wants to do a workout without paying.

The guy didn't seem to have a good command of the English language.  He gave Jilberto and I the name of a guy who told him to come and see the gym.  Neither Jilberto or I recognized the name.  Jilberto spoke to the guy in Spanish, then told me that Mary wasn't happy about the guy and his kids hanging around in the hallway.  She had said as such to the guy earlier, but he decided to keep waiting until the gym was open.  Colonel came in, and he also spoke to the man in his native tongue.  Information was given to him about when the gym was open, and the days his kids could train, if they wanted to learn how to box.  That satisfied the man, and he and his kids went on their way.

Joe Frazier's name was mentioned during the course of conversations last night.  "Smokin'" Joe passed away from liver cancer the other day; he was 67 years old.  The night before, I fell asleep with the TV tuned to ESPN Classic. They were showing some of Frazier's most famous fights, including the "Thrilla In Manilla", where he went up against Muhammad Ali.  Ray explained the way Frazier moved in the ring was called the Philly Shell.  I noticed that Frazier was constantly covering himself up with his hands and arms in front to ward off punches.  It was effective as it made it very hard for opponents to get their punches through to land. 

Reggie asked me why the boxing show at Seward was canceled for today.  I remember Meg mentioning that several Park District shows had been canceled this season.  "I have no idea, Reggie, but it's been happening a lot.  Usually the canceled shows are rescheduled, but they haven't been," I said.  Only one more show is left this year, and that will be at Brooks Park next month.  If that is canceled, there won't be anymore Park District shows until next summer. 

Last week, I didn't exercise as much as I should have.  This week, I fooled around and forgot to exercise on Tuesday.  I was so busy writing that I lost track of time.  I'm participating in National Novel Writing Month, and I'm already behind in my word count.  I believe people are supposed to write about 1,667 words a day.  Ha!  I know how my novel begins and how it is supposed to end.  It's the scenes in-between the beginning and end that are hard to figure out.  The novel is about a middle-aged woman who's an amateur boxer facing a milestone birthday (sound familiar?) whose life seems to have come to a dead stop on so many levels.  The story line follows her as she tries to make sense of what's come before and struggles to make going forward better.

When I got home, I called Alan to give him a heads up about Mary's concern about people using the gym for free.  She's been complaining and giving warnings about that for the longest.  Yeah, there have been people who've come in and out for free over the years.  But not everybody who has done that is from off the street.  Some who are participating in other programs at the field house have an attitude of, "I've paid for this one, so I should be able to take part in other programs/classes -- without paying the extra fees -- since I'm already here."  I also don't think many are aware that none of the boxing gyms in the Park District are drop-in gyms.  Maybe extra steps need to be taken to make that clear to everyone who walks into the field houses.  People often hear the timer bell ringing, they see the door open, and they think they can just waltz in and hit the bags.

It's no problem if someone wants to come in and look around the gym to see if they might like to sign up for boxing.  There's no charge for that.  Alan and I are happy to answer questions of those who just want to check it out.  But trying to get freebies is another thing altogether.

Fighting and Dancing

How many people can say they got to get in the ring with their boss?  Alan can; he and Paul, his boss at his day job, got into the ring to spar each other.  Paul seems like a nice guy, and Alan didn't go very hard on him.  However, I bet a lot of people would love to get a current or past boss in the ring.  They probably fantasize about it with glee.  Paul and Alan went about three rounds.

Alan was also in sparring with Reggie.  At one point, it seemed like they were going on and on.  Then Amy noticed the timer wasn't working.  It seems that the timer -- which Alan brought in awhile ago -- has a short in it.  I unplugged it, waited a few seconds, then plugged it back in.  It began to work again. 

Kevin sparred with Reggie.  Alan kept telling Kevin to keep his hands up.  Kevin did not do his crouching near the ropes business, and stayed upright. 

The gym was a little quiet on Monday night.  Ray (in the photo above) said that most were probably out watching a Bears-Eagles game that was on.  He had been watching some of it before he came to the gym. 

Alan had been in the gym two hours before everyone else came in.  His car had broken down, and he had to leave it at a mechanic in the suburbs.  He took a bus down to the gym.  Alan had put the radio on and left it on some station that sounded like it was playing a mix of 1960's pop and trance music.  After about an hour, the station started playing what sounded like house music.  Ray was going, "Yeah!  I am a house-head!"  Then I started doing footwork, a popular dance that is done much better by people way younger than I.  I slipped and fell against the lockers.  I had to laugh at myself.  Then I got up and started stepping, a dance done better by people my age.  "You know how to step?" Ray asked.  "A little," I replied.  Willie, whose grandson had fought in the Loyola Park boxing show last month, taught me how to do a basic six-step.  "Teach me how to step!" Reggie smiled.

Several of us did burnouts on the heavy bags.  Reggie and Ray were cursing as they went through the round.  Sarah (in the foreground in the photo above) and I just put our heads down and punched until we tired ourselves out. 

Earlier in the day, Pastor Roger was telling me that he played football briefly at school when he was a young man.  A dislocated shoulder convinced him that he didn't want to deal with the fallout from other injuries down the line.  He also noticed that guys in their 30s who had played sports during their high school and college days were already experiencing health problems.  "I was playing a pickup basketball game, and saw that a lot of the guys were taping up their joints beforehand.  A lot of them were younger than me and already had arthritis," Pastor said.  I told him that I'm now feeling the effects not just from boxing, but from participating in roller skating, in-line skating, ice skating, and martial arts over the years. 

More Aspirin, More Sparring

I walked into Pastor Roger's office on Wednesday morning and asked if I could please have another aspirin.  "I've basically been hurting ever since I had my last fight in early October," I told him, after he made a joke about me being knocked upside my head again.  That time, I was feeling the effects of the body punches Alan gave me on Monday.  The aspirin helped a little.  A long hot bath in Epson salt probably would have been better.

There were some guys in the gym whom I did not recognize.  One was a coach who I learned trains fighters way out in Crete, IL.  Another was Sosa, who was being trained by that coach.  Sosa looked like he knew what he was doing.  He told Alan he'd like to come in again.and get some sparring in.

Oscar and his friend Jesus returned to the gym.  Oscar and I sparred twice; we did two separate rounds, and Kenny and I did one round together in-between that.  It was easier to spar with Oscar, only because Oscar is my height.  I got Oscar with some jabs and hooks.  Alan was on the side saying, "Beautiful!  Now keep it up!"  Oscar seems to have become quicker each time I spar with him.  I remembered to keep my chin down, and watch better for openings.  But there were times when I goofed up.  For example, I swung wildly at Oscar during our first round and ended up spinning in a circle.  Alan chuckled about that one.  Then Oscar popped me with a right, and I put my head down and closed my eyes, not seeing the jab that came behind it.  Afterwards, Colonel told me, "You're tough for a church lady!"  That's a new nickname for me.

Reggie, seen facing Kenny in the above photo, went several a few rounds with him.  Kenny has become our second Eveready Bunny in the gym (Jacob is the other one).  When he has a fight coming up, Kenny can go several rounds non-stop.  Kenny is sort of a like a snake in the ring, as I noticed when I sparred with him on Wednesday.  Always coiled, and when he strikes, it's quick.  Some of the guys that Kenny has sparred and fought with have been bigger, like Reggie, but Kenny's quickness and observation skills are assets in overcoming larger opponents.

Kevin sparred with Ralphie.  Alan must have told Kevin ten times to keep his hands up.  "You're not listening to me," Alan told him during a break in the action.  Then someone else ringside -- I think it was Kenny -- gave the same warning to Kevin.  Alan told Kevin, "There's more than one person telling you the same thing -- do you think I'm lying?"  Kevin went back to leaning on the ropes.  Ralphie took advantage of the situation and kept popping him in the side.  When Alan told Kevin not to stay in that one spot, Kevin replied, "I'm waiting for him to tire himself out."  Several of us fell out laughing.  "Oh, no!  Ralphie's not going to get tired!" I told Kevin.  Before the next round took place, Ralphie explained to Kevin that he will lose fights if he keeps waiting by the ropes and not answering punches properly.

In another month and five days from now, my birthday will be here. .  . .I still haven't made up my mind about whether to continue competing beyond that time.  Alan called Sam to let him know that I am one of the fighters interested in having a bout during a show fight that will take place downtown later this month.  Seward Park's boxing show is next week, but I'm sure I won't have a match there.  Beyond those fight shows is Brooks Park, which will take place the day before my birthday.  Most likely I will have a fight at Brooks, and how I do there may be the deciding factor on whether I take any more fights.

But based on the fact that I'm still feeling soreness from the fight with Meg last month, and the hard sparring with Sarah that followed behind that. . .I can't keep denying that it's become a bit harder to recover from punches.  Wait. . .I just found a series of scrapes on my right forearm.  They weren't there earlier, so that must have happened while sparring.  I'm glad I'm not that vain of a person.  Otherwise, I'd constantly have fits about all the scratches and scrapes I get (from boxing and elsewhere) and the scars they often leave behind.   While I'm aware that I give off a youthful appearance, young I'm not.

 Alan was happy that none of Reggie's punches caught him in the back while they sparred.  "It would have been bad if Reggie had gotten me, but if you hit me like that, I would have been out," Alan told me.  I'm always apprehensive about really hurting someone.  The second round that Oscar and I sparred, he didn't put on headgear.  I kept throwing hooks, but honestly, I really didn't want to connect, considering Oscar's head was vulnerable. 

Halloween Interviews

Halloween. . ..eh, I don't celebrate it.  It wasn't celebrated much in my house when I was growing up.  Ma would snap at the kids who rang our bell for candy, especially if they kept ringing it after nine at night.  As an adult, I saw a religious program that outlined the pagan origins of this "holiday", and I was done with it after that.  Bad things usually happen because people -- both kids and adults -- do things they shouldn't do on Halloween.  I walked to the gym watching for eggs being thrown, or other such stupid pranks going down.  Thankfully, I arrived at the gym without having to take a detour to chase down anyone who attempted to get a laugh at my expense.

Colonel showed up wearing a fright mask with hands to match.  I was laughing, as he was also wearing a nice suit.  Brittany and Amber were waiting outside the gym along with Colonel, myself, Kenny, BK, and Igor.  Brittany and Amber are journalism grad students at Northwestern University.  They were there to film some of the action in the gym, and to do some interviews.

Jacob came in wearing a splint on his left hand.  The diagnosis?  A hairline fracture on his thumb.  It happened the last time he sparred with Kenny.  He's supposed to wear the splint 24 hours a day.  It's going to take a few months before it is completely healed.  He put a glove over his hand with the splint still on.  "Be careful.  You don't want to re-injure it," I told him.  "I think it'll be okay if I hit the bags lightly and don't spar," he said.

Kenny sparred with Professor, Kevin, and Alan.  He wants to fight during Seward's boxing show, which is ten days away.  Things went well with Professor, but Kevin reverted back to some of the usual moves -- that everybody admonishes him about -- again.  Professor and BK closely paid attention when Kevin was in the ring.  Professor was telling Kenny to take advantage when Kevin made mistakes. 

I got into the ring with Alan who joked, "I'm going to smack you down."  "See?  See?  Everytime I get inside the ring with you Alan, you want to beat me down," I laughed.  I was trying my best to take advantage of any and every opening.  I noticed earlier that when Alan threw an overhand right at Kenny, he lingered a little too long.  Kenny could have come in with a quick jab or hook to his ribs.  I wanted to do that, but I forgot one thing.  I have short arms and legs.

Well, actually I forgot another thing, too.  Alan is cagey in the ring.  He has this thing where he puts out his left fist on my forehead and just holds me off as I try to get closer to get in any punches.  Kids would do that same thing to me during fights I had in grade school.  "I'm a dirty fighter," he grinned through his mouthpiece.  "I see," I replied, frustrated because I couldn't be as slick as I wanted to be.  I tried to catch Alan during round two, and I tripped over my own feet, turning my ankle a little.  That had been happening all day long.  Twice it happened while I was at church this morning.  The second fall was due to a direct hit I took.  The coach had to help me back up to my feet.

The couple of times I made any progress involved hitting Alan in a spot where he had already been hurt.  Before he got into the ring to spar Kenny, he told me that his back was still hurting from when Kevin popped there the last time they sparred.  The first time I punched Alan in his back, he groaned and moved away.  "Now I'm really going to get you," he said.  "I'm sorry. . ..I didn't mean to hit there," I said, and I was telling the truth.  We moved around some more and boom, I got him there again.  "Whoops!" I thought to myself.  Alan caught me against the ropes, and bang, bang, bang, I caught punches to both of my sides.  Afterwards, Alan told me, "I saw red when you got me there."  "Honestly, I didn't mean to do it," I apologized.  "I know you didn't, but I thought back to when I first took a hit there.  But I forced you to fight, didn't I?" he said.  I agreed.

Brittany interviewed myself, Kenny, and Alan.  I talked about always being a tomboy who liked rougher sports.  Kenny talked about how boxing helps keep him on the straight and narrow.  Alan revealed that he'd been boxing since he was 20 years old, forty years ago.  "I was considered old for starting that late.  The thought then was that boxers were about done when they became 28 years old.  Today, you have boxers who are fighting way over the age of thirty-five, so that decline has been disproved."  He spoke about Rudy Cisneros (12-3-0), a professor boxer whom Alan began training when Cisneros was ten years old.  Cisneros was one of the boxers on season two of the TV reality competition, "The Contender".  Cisneros was not the only boxer whom Alan trained who turned pro, but Alan considered him to be one of the best fighters he ever trained.  "I won't keep sparring forever because the body does break down after awhile.  But I'll keep coaching as long as I am able to walk into the gym.  I love it.  I would do this for free," Alan said.

Late For The Gym

A high school buddy of mine, Elizabeth, was in town.  I hadn't seen her since 1976. . .let me explain.  Elizabeth only attended the high school for the 1975-1976 school year.  Her mother made her transfer to another school after that year.  We had an art class together, but I always remembered her because she was quiet, she loved comedian George Carlin, and when she did speak, she had intelligent things to say.  I hung out yesterday evening with her and husband at Hugo's Frog Bar, where another former classmate, John, works as a musician.  It was a good, relaxing time.  "My husband was hoping that you would come by.  He was intrigued to hear that you're a boxer," Elizabeth smiled. 

I stayed a little longer than I intended because I was enjoying everyone's company so much.  When I arrived at the gym, Colonel said, "Girl, we thought a serial killer had gotten a hold of you!"  Alan was perched on top of his desk.  "I was about to call you to see where you were," he smiled.

A lot of activity was going on.  Nate Sr. (seen bending over in the photo above) was there with his son, Nate Jr. (the young man sitting down in the photo), along with another kid whom I have seen before, but couldn't remember his name.  The boys were sparring, probably because they have matches coming up.  That's usually the case when the fighters who are under 18 show up to the adult boxing class. 

I kept on practicing keeping my chin down, which is a move I should have mastered years before.  Colonel told me to drop my head, then lean it over to the right.  That way, I don't get a crick in my neck.  He also said I should aim my jabs a little higher, using my shoulder to protect the side of my face.  The object is to keep an opponent from easily coming over with their right to pop me. 

Seth (in the orange shirt) sparred with Ray (who's looking for gloves on the glove table).  I they did a couple of rounds.  Then Kevin got in with Ray.  Alan kept yelling at Kevin not to do the stay-by-the-ropes-and-cover-up thing that Kevin did when he sparred with Alan the other day.  Kevin still did that a few times, but he did stand up and box with Ray.

Sarah came in, but I begged off sparring again.  There is a crick in my neck, the result of continuing fallout from the fight with Meg a couple of weeks ago, plus sparring with Sarah right behind that fight.  This is one of those times when I feel like my body is really out of whack.  When I exercise at home with the DVDs, I find myself constantly making modifications to the moves I see.  My knees won't cooperate, I can't bounce around, I can't bend too far. . . .it's a trip.  The good thing is I am getting used to exercising five days a week.  I gained a pound from last week, but that's okay.  Eventually, the numbers will go back down. 

At the end of the night, Colonel said he forgot that Halloween is this upcoming Monday.  "I like to scare the kids around the neighborhood," he grinned, and told us how he tricks out his house to achieve that.  I don't celebrate Halloween because it wasn't celebrated much in my house when I was a kid.  Over the years, I've also had a problem with a "holiday" that celebrates darkness in this world.  In addition, too many adults use the day to really show out in many wrong ways.  Speaking of which, Alan grinned and said, "I like driving around on Halloween and looking at the women in their scanty costumes."  "I'm telling Riva," I said, referring to his wife.  "I tell her that I look," Alan replied, grinning even wider.

Kevin The Scrapper

Got all the way downstairs with my boxing gear and realized that I forgot to pack my camera.  "Oh, well," I thought as I headed towards the front lobby door.  A woman comes in and we exchange hellos.  At first, I thought she was a tenant until I saw the mail cart outside.  "She's just now delivering the mail," I thought to myself as I shook my head. 

Alan had just opened up the gym when I arrived.  The room was stuffy, and it felt like middle of August instead of late October.  I was tempted to turn on the fan, but I let it go.  We'll appreciate the heat soon enough as the weeks roll on. 

Luckily, my little chin down helper was in my bag.  I brought it from Ringside years ago when I first took up boxing.   It is basically a roll of foam encased inside a covering with the boxing company's logo on it.  An elastic strap is attached so it can hang around the neck.  The purpose of it it to get a boxer in the habit of keeping their chin down while punching.  Since it's been pointed out by both Kenny and Colonel that I have my chin up too much, I decided to practice with it to break that habit. 

I begged off sparing again.  My neck is still a bit stiff and my right side below the rib cage is still acting funny, too.  My right knee felt as if someone had taken a small ball peen hammer and hit one side of it.  There's also a mysterious scrape on the lower left side of my back.  Don't ask me how it got there.  I woke up one morning, and there it was.  I'm always waking up and finding scrapes on myself.  It makes me wonder whom am I fighting in my sleep.  Makes me wonder if I'm winning those nocturnal fights, too.

Ray and Kenny sparred, and Ray ended up jamming his thumb on his left hand.  On Kenny's directions, Ray shot a jab at him, but it grazed off of Kenny's headgear instead.  Ray's thumb turned blue.  "I love him to death, but that's what I get for listening to him," Ray said. 

Jacob's thumb wasn't doing any better; he has to see a hand specialist in a few days.  He was able to shadow box and hit the bags, but sparring was out.  Jacob was not able to fight at Hamlin Park's boxing show last week because of it.  Kenny sat it out, too; he's battling a bad cold. 

Kenny also sparred with Reggie, who seemed to be worn out after their encounter.  They came out, then Alan stepped into the ring with Kevin, who showed up wearing a mouthpiece.  The sparring between them was largely a one-sided affair.  Kevin spent the majority of the time bent down low in the corners, against the ropes.  Alan used the opportunity to work on Kevin's ribs on his left side.  The rest of us kept telling Kevin to stop hugging the corners so much, but Kevin claimed to have a plan.

The younger man kept waiting for opportunities to either come roaring out with a series of punches or one big one.  However, Alan protected himself well from the occasional onslaughts of hits.  Kevin jumped out of the corner at one point and held Alan's head down with his left hand.  His right hand pounded Alan on his back.  Alan would say later that his kidneys were really going to feel that later on. Alan caught Kevin with a sharp right that nearly turned Kevin's head around.  In between the rounds, I gave Kevin water.  Kevin swirled it around then deposited it into a nearby spit bucket.  I noticed there was not only blood in the bucket, but around Kevin's mouth as well.  He wiped his mouth off with a nearby towel and kept going.  The two of them did three rounds in total.

It Was A Dark and Stormy Night

The news media was going on and on about the waves crashing up against Chicago's shores, and how the bike paths along Lake Michigan had to be shut down.  Big deal.  It's not that hasn't happened before.  I wasn't feeling well when I woke up this morning, so I stayed home most of the day.  I could hear the winds whipping around and the rain falling.  Once again, no big whoop.  Typical Chicago weather.

I felt well enough to go to the gym Wednesday evening.  Jiliberto opened the gym door and asked, "Where is everybody else?"  Normally, a few people other than myself are standing outside the gym, waiting to get in.  "I think it's going to be a small crowd because of the weather," I told him.  It was still raining outside, although the wind had died down a bit.  The temperatures had gone down, too.  Sure enough, the only people in attendance outside of Alan and myself were Colonel, Kevin, Amy, Seth and Reggie.  Kevin brought in a friend of his named Nick. 

Reggie, Seth and Kevin sparred.  Alan asked Amy if she wanted to spar, but she didn't.  Amy has only sparred with her sister Sarah, who wasn't in attendance that night.  I didn't feel like sparring.  I'm still experiencing soreness, and based on the fact I missed work that morning because of illness, I didn't want to chance getting jacked up again. I did a workout, but my mind wasn't totally focused on it.  I should have put more into than I did.

Looks like neither Jacob nor Kenny will fight at Hamlin tomorrow night.  Kenny's not feeling well, and the verdict is still out on whether or not Jacob is able to use his thumb which he injured during sparring awhile ago.  I might still go to Hamlin just to watch the fights.  Colonel was planning to go, too.

Colonel and Alan remind me of my uncles because of the stories they tell about altercations and near-altercations they've been in.  Recently, Colonel had to step to a guy on the train.  "This scary looking MF got on the train acting crazy. . .the guy stood over a woman and was harassing her.  Scared the poor woman to death.  I got up and told the guy, 'Look, I'm the craziest MF on this train', and the guy backed down.  I was ticked because I'm a a buck forty-seven challenging the guy, and nobody else on the train moved to stop him!" "That's how people do," I told Colonel, remembering a couple of times when I came to the rescue of passengers being messed with on public transportation while others sat and acted as if nothing was happening.

Alan told of an incident that happened when he was twenty-nine years old.  The engineer in the building he lived in at the time waited until it was just he and Alan on the elevator.  The engineer locked the elevator car and told Alan, "There are no witnesses, so I'm going to beat you up."  The engineer had earlier accused Alan of disrespecting him.  Alan tried to talk the guy down, but to no avail, so he had no choice but to swing back. The engineer later pressed charges, and lied to the police about Alan using a weapon on him.  This is where the having no witnesses issue backfired on the engineer, and the case was thrown out. 

No Sparring Monday

Reggie (the guy sitting in the photo above) came in the gym Monday night.  He had broken a femur bone playing basketball a few weeks ago.  It's healing up, but I worried about him doing a heavy workout.  Reggie had good news that he passed the physical required by the Evanston Police Department.  BK, who was also in the gym (he now works in security at a college) was very interested.  BK wants to be a cop too, and he's thinking about applying for the force in Lake County.

The other guy in the photo with Reggie is Kevin, who appeared to be healing nicely from injuries he suffered in a recent altercation elsewhere.  He revealed that he had trained up at Brooks Park awhile back.  There was a disagreement between him and a coach there, and Kevin was shown the door.  Alan was surprised because he knows the coach there -- Pat -- to be rather mild-mannered.

Sorry that the above photo looks off.  I have no idea what was going on with the camera.  The guy on the left is Paul, who is the boss at Alan's day job.  Alan (on the right) gave him a little training.  He was impressed with Paul's stamina and wind. 

No sparring went on.  The guys that are always up for it didn't come in that evening, and Sarah wasn't feeling well according to her sister Amy.  I was going to fill the water bottles out of habit, but both of them were full.  I'm assuming they had been that way since last Thursday, when the kids were in the gym.  

Victor (the guy in the middle in the photo above) came in later.  Colonel (in the blue) and Igor (wearing the Bears jacket -- I think that's a Bears jacket) watch something that Victor had taped, probably a fight.  Victor and Colonel started playing around for the camera, as seen below.

Colonel gave me two pieces of good advice.  "Keep your chin down and next to your right shoulder.  Pretend as if you're a sick bird," he said.  It helps protect one's right side of the face from being exposed to full-on blows.  I'm wondering why in the heck was I going around for so long with my chin up in the air.  I know better than that.  That would explain how easy it was for Meg to get in that uppercut that nearly took me out two weeks ago.  The second piece of advice was, "Never date guys who live in Chicago.  They don't know how to treat women!"

While I would have loved to have a rematch with Meg this Thursday at Hamlin, the truth is, I'm not up for it.  I took a beating from her at Loyola's boxing show, then I had some hard sparring sessions with Sarah the following week.  Both knees have been bothering me since that time.  My left shoulder's been a bother since I sparred with Sarah that Monday after the bout, and something feels pinched in my neck.  Stiffness has set in all over.  I should have taken it easy after that match, but noooo, as the late John Belushi would say.  I had to jump right back into things.  I've been close friends with heat patches, Arnica cream, Icy Hot, Ben Gay, and Advil since then.  I'll go up to Hamlin to support Jacob and Kenny who'll have matches there, but I'll have to sit that boxing show out. 

The Short and Nice of It All

Kenny and I sparred this past Wednesday.  Yesterday, I had what Oprah would always refer to as an "ah ha!" moment.  I have to really learn how to fight differently because of my height.  Kenny and Alan always point out how I throw punches out when the opponent is way out of my range.  The other fighter can always zap me, however, because of their longer arm reach.  I've also noticed, especially over the past few years, that it's hard for me to chase opponents around the ring.  Their longer legs give them the advantage of covering more ground in order to avoid my punches. 

Which reminds me of a story from back in 1988.  It was early on New Year's Day, and the guy I was dating at the time and myself were leaving a party that had been thrown by radio station V103 at the McCormick Hotel.  It was bone cold outside, and we had a bit of a walk to get back to the nearest public transportation stop.  I had been foolish enough to wear low pumps and not carry a pair of boots along with me.  Ice and snow covered the sidewalks.  I was stepping fast because I wanted to get out of the weather.  The guy laughed when he noticed that for every two steps he took, I was taking several.  He was 6'3" with long legs.  I'm still 5'1" with short, stubby legs. 

I can't think of any male boxers who are short, although I'm sure there are some.  But there are plenty of professional female boxers who are 5'5" and under.  I need to watch film on them to see how they get around the height disadvantage.  I know someone short can take down someone who's taller than they.  Like my Aunt Mary is fond of saying, "Dynamite comes in small packages."  She's only 4'11".  It wasn't too long ago that some guy was messing with her on the street and she knocked him to the pavement.  Didn't I mention that my aunt is in her late seventies?  My mother is 5'3", and she and my late father, unfortunately, had their dustups before they eventually divorced.  Yet she managed to put a few scars on my old man, who was 5'9", and bigger and heavier than she. 

Now that I further think about it, I need to muster up more of the fighting instincts that Ma and my aunts have, too.  While I was in the ring with Kenny, Alan barked, "Hillari, come on!  You're not even trying to hit him!"  In the back of my mind, I'm always thinking I never really want to hurt anyone.  I'm too nice in that respect, but it doesn't serve me well in the ring.  I've mentioned before that my maternal grandfather had been an amateur boxer; my mother and my aunts learned how to throw punches by watching their dad whenever he taught my late uncles how to box.  My uncles had plenty of stories about the spectacular street fights they were in -- and often won -- but my mother and my aunts were (and are still) not slouches when it came to defending themselves. 

Maybe it would help more if I pretended my opponents were people who had pissed me off.  I have a long list of plenty in the past who have that I could use.  Just recently added someone new to the list last night.  I ordered food, and the delivery guy called up to my place on the intercom.  I buzzed him in.  A moment later, he calls back.  "Is the buzzer not working?" I ask, which is usually the case.  "Yeah, it does, but there's a woman down here who told me she wasn't going to let me into the lobby until she leaves," the guy replied.  I knew exactly who that woman was.  In my last post, I complained about both of my knees hurting.  I forgot about the pain and ran downstairs as fast as I could. 

The woman in question was sitting in the lobby.  There are several human irritants who have taken up residence in my building over the past couple of years.  She's one of them.  The woman does not speak when "hello" is said to her, prefering to look through people as if they weren't there.  A neighbor down the hall from me had to tell her off when the woman tried to prevent them from putting their clothes in the dryer.  The woman had decided the dryers were her personal property that day, and she felt no other tenant was allowed to use them.  She has attempted to block other tenants -- including myself -- from entering the building if they happen to be walking in behind her.  She'll ask, "Do you live here?" when she knows good and damn well she's seen that person coming in and out and getting their mail numerous times before.  The woman continuously displays all manner of rude and odd behavior. 

"Why did you tell the delivery guy that he couldn't come in here?" I demanded as soon as I got down to the lobby.  She dabbed her face with a napkin and blatantly ignored me.  I asked her again, and still no response.  I was calling her all kinds of foul names in my mind.  It ocurred to me to snatch her arm and shake her violently.  All I had to take was two steps to grab her, and it would have been a done deal.  It was pretty stupid of her not to consider that she might have set herself up for some major unpleasantness.  But I remembered that I do know how to box, and no, I didn't feel like explaining myself to the police that night.  "Don't do it again," I said coldly, before letting the delivery guy in.  I stomped back up to my apartment with my food, wishing that I hadn't taken the high road with her.  But that's another major thing I've learned since taking up boxing.  I have to walk away from some people in order not to make it a bad day for either me or them.

Two Guys, Two Injuries

It was Columbus Day, but the field house and the gym was open.  Carolyn wasn't there, and none of the women at the front desk had a key for the gym door.  Alan was running late again, and he had called in to let the staff know he was on his way. Kenny and Colonel walked in and wondered why I was waiting in the hall.  "Did you ask if any of the front desk people have keys?" Colonel asked. "No. . .," I said, but before I could finish, Colonel was asking if they could open up.  One of the women had taken the late call from Alan.  She told Colonel that the staff was waiting for Alan to show up.  Colonel wanted in, so he called Alan so he could tell the staff to open the door.  Kenny admonished his father for doing that, indicating that Colonel might get the staff in trouble.

Later, when Alan arrived and we could gain access to the gym, I explained it to Colonel.  "When Carolyn is here on Monday, and Jiliberto is here on Wednesday, they usually open up the gym if Alan hasn't gotten here yet and they see me.  That is, unless they've heard something different from Mary.  But if Carolyn and Jiliberto are not here, I don't ask other staff to open up, because I know that Mary might get on them for it."

Marcus stopped in briefly on Monday night to show us his left arm.  A muscle popped in his upper arm while he was using an exercise machine at another gym.  The doctors did their repair job, but the healing is going to take awhile.  He was wearing a cast.  "It'll probably be February before I can get back in the gym to do anything," Marcus told me.  "It happens like that.  You've been used to doing a certain exercise, and all of a sudden something happens to a joint or muscle.  You wonder what is going on?" Alan said. 

Kevin came in a little awhile later.  He was calling me from outside one of the windows to come open the back field house door up.  I thought I heard someone calling my name, but since it wasn't coming from one of the guys already in the gym, I thought I was mistaken.  Kevin had a bad gash and some scrapes on his forehead.  From what he told me, his injuries came out of a situation where drinking was involved.

Kevin's gash sort of reminded me of a fight my late paternal grandmother started decades ago with a woman who was much bigger than she.  Grandma was 4'11; the woman, a tenant of hers at the time, was 6 feet tall.  The argument involved payment of rent.  My mother said they exchanged words, then in the next instant, Grandma was all over the woman like a cheap suit.  When it was all over, the tall woman had a bald spot at the top of her head.  It wasn't because my grandmother had pulled her hair out. Grandma had repeatedly scraped the woman's head against the sidewalk.
 
Professor gave Kevin pointers on how to throw punches. Kevin was throwing a lot of them on the heavy bag, but there wasn't much power behind them.  He also taught Kevin how to jump rope.
 
No one sparred, which is very rare, especially since Alan took over the gym.  Kenny announced early on that he didn't feel like it.  My knees have been bothering me since before the last fight I had, and I wasn't up for it, either.  There wasn't that many on hand in the gym that night.  I suspect a lot of people thought the gym was closed because of Columbus Day.

A Week With The DVDs

I exercised six days last week.  That's counting the two days I'm at the gym.  Finally, I figured out how to reset up the DVD player.  When the exterminators came in a month ago to get rid of the bed bugs (I haven't seen any in awhile--knock on wood), they had unhooked the DVD from my TV.  It took awhile for me to figure out what cord goes where.  The instructions I have weren't a whole lot of help.  But then, what instructions for TV and DVD hookups are?

I pulled out a few exercise DVDs, mixing them up for a little variety.  I need a mix of strength training and cardio, not only strength training like my neighbor Eric suggested.  Eric is big on weight lifting, the type of guy who spends three plus hours in a traditional gym hoisting 300+ pounds and more.  Being strong is a plus, but strength alone does not win boxing matches.  I've seen too many guys walk into the boxing gym who think their muscles are the only advantage they need.  Stamina and conditioning count for a lot.  If neither one of those are present, a boxer can't expect to be very successful when facing an opponent.

I like Kettlebell 3-in-1 with Amy Bento.  There are two complete workouts on the DVD, the first one being the right pace for beginners.  The second workout is for the intermediate level which is just slightly more intense.  Ms. Bento has a tutorial so that people can learn how to use the kettlebell properly before they begin.  Working with kettlebells is a combination of strength training as well as cardio. 

Sarah Lurie has a DVD set called Iron Core Kettlebell.  Complaints I read online about these DVDs were about the 30 second breaks in-between sets.  You know what?  They're needed.  Ms. Lurie is no joke when it comes to this workout, which is more intense than Ms. Bento's. While Ms. Bento is friendly, Ms. Lurie is no-nonsense and about the business.  That Turkish Getup exercise where you have to raise up from the floor while keeping an eye on the kettlebell?  Legalized torture. 

The other two DVDs I used were by ray-of-sunshine Leslie Sansone.  Ms. Sansone is very cheery, talkative, and upbeat which helps a lot when one is trying to stay motivated to exercise.  She is the queen of power walking workouts.  I like her workouts because they are gentle to the joints.  Years ago, when I turned thirty, I guess I was grumbling about the loss of flexibility, which I was beginning to notice.  A former co-worker of mine, Mary (God rest her soul), told me, "Wait until you turn fifty."  She was right.  Don't think a walking workout is easy or wimpy.  I'm sweating by the time I get to the middle of it.  The two DVDs I used last week were Punch Up Your Walk (which involves using weighted gloves that were included with the DVD) and Walk Away the Pounds.  Both DVDs give the option of doing the whole workout or just 1, 2, 3, or 4 miles of walking depending how much time you have and how you feel. 

Next week, I'll wade through the other exercise DVDs I have to keep the variety going. 

Soreness

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

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

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

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

And in this photo too.

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

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

The Monday After The Fights

I wasn't hurting much on Saturday, but by Sunday, I gingerly eased into my usual pew at church service.  Soaking in a warm bath of green rubbing alcohol later that afternoon didn't help much.  My left shoulder blade, my left shoulder, both of my knees, and my sides were jacked up.  I shuffled around like the old woman that I'm slowly becoming.

That didn't stop me from sparring with Sarah on Monday, however, as I reverted back to the habit from my younger days of throwing caution to the wind.  Alan kept telling me over and over, "Work your way in with the jab, then work on the inside."  I attempted to do that, but I was reminded again and again of how short I am by Sarah's long reach.  I dug in on some body shots, but my head paid the price.

Alan wondered where the other women -- Maggie, Ursula, Baia, Lynesta -- were at.  Of those, Ursula did come in with a guy named Robert.  A lot of the guys were missing, too.  "Where are they at?" Colonel asked.  "You know, after a boxing show, people take off for a night," Alan answered.   Steve, the former coach, used to tell guys that they didn't have to come in to the gym right after they had a fight.  I had a half a notion to stay home myself, but it lasted for a second.  I needed to get right back into the workout, regardless of how sore I felt.

The cops have been hanging around the gym frequently as of late. One of the last time a pair came in, Alan jokingly pointed to Kenny and told the cops, "There he is!"  "Man, don't scare me like that," Kenny told the coach.  Kenny has freely admitted to having been a guest of the police on several occasions when he was younger.  The cops come in, observe the training and the sparring, and talk to Alan.

Colonel gave me a copy of Friday's boxing show.  "Don't punch me too hard, but all of your fight didn't make it on tape.  The battery ran out in my camera!" he told me.  "Don't worry about it.  My stepmother taped all of the rounds," I told him.  I'll get to see most of the mistakes I made that led to me losing.

A stray trophy that Alan found on Friday night turned out to be the one that was awarded to Jacob.  Colonel got it out of Mary's office, and I placed it in my locker for safekeeping.  My locker is officially the catch-all for everything that others leave behind.  Speaking of awards:

This is the Sportsmanship Award I was given on Friday night.  I'm still pleasantly surprised to have received it.

Kenny asked when the next boxing show will be, and Hamlin Park's show is next up on the calendar for this month.  I told Alan that Bill wanted me to go over there and fight Meg again.  "I don't think you should fight her again this time.  It'll be too soon behind the last fight," Alan suggested.  I remember when Meg and I fought those two times in 2009, those were practically back-to-back bouts as well.  Maybe that was a factor in why I lost the second time.  I'd rather not have another fight stopped on me like the last time.  But I'd like to have at least one more fight before the Chicago Park District boxing show season ends.  Well, maybe I'll wait until December when Brooks has their boxing show and see what happens then.