Music Around The Ring

Kenny brought his iPod boom box in (shown above) on Wednesday night.  "You like the music selection?" he asked me, smiling.  "Yes, I appreciate the DJ!" I told him.  The music was a mix of old school R&B, rock and rap music.  Way better than the stuff that comes out of WGCI-FM, the station that the gym radio is always on.

Rich spars with Nate in the photo above.  Earlier he had sparred with Adam.  Adam did get Rich with some shots to the head.  He had to reach to get up there, but he got them in.  Rich told me after that session that he was crouching down a lot to reach Adam, but also covering up, trying to duck Adam's punches.  I told Rich that he has to be careful about being drawn in by the other boxer to fight their fight.  A boxer has to control the action to control their opponent, otherwise known as ring generalship.

The guys definitely outnumbered the women in the gym.  Charlene didn't come in.  Neither did Maria or the other new women who joined up this session.  Amy and Sarah were in attendance. 

Sarah and I sparred for about three rounds and a half.  I guess were going at too slow of a pace, because Alan asked us to pick up the pace during the last round.  I didn't want it turn into a war, but we did move faster and threw some harder punches.  When I initially stepped in the ring with Sarah, the song "Friends" by the rap group Whodini was playing on Kenny's boom box. I thought that was kind of funny, a song about friendship going on as two people were approaching each other to throw punches. 

I caught Alan putting a mouthpiece in, and I gave him a questioning look. Rich was putting on headgear and gloves. "I'm wearing it just in case," he smiled.  "I have to look out for you," I told him.  His wife, Riva, had told me last week that she doesn't like when her husband spars with people.  I understand -- all of the guys currently in the gym with the exception of Colonel and Igor are way younger than Alan.  Anything could go wrong.  But Alan only ran sparring drills with Rich, who really wants to improve his game. 

 

Later when I was on the black heavy bag, "Do Right Woman, Do Right Man" an 1960's oldie by Aretha Franklin was playing.  My mother liked that song, I thought to myself.  Some of the songs on the boom box were oldies that were popular when my parents were in their 30s and still married.  The thought, my late parents, crossed my mind, and I had to stop for a second and consider that.  It seemed I had just gotten used to the phrase, my late dad.  Wednesday was the eighth anniversary of Dad's death.  Now I'll have two death anniversaries back to back, as Ma died last month.  It felt a bit odd.  You know, neither one of them ever saw any of my boxing matches. 

 

Kenny was back to giving out coaching advice, as he worked with Sarah and others, as shown above.  

 

Sarah looks like she's really whipping up on the heavy bag in this photo.

 

Some of the guys, in a usual scene in the gym, talking with the coach near the end of the evening.  Colonel (in the hat) and Kenny, too, have some of the funniest, craziest stories, and Colonel was telling one of them.  It involved two cops who were harassing Kenny and his friends several years ago.  The harassment was wrongly taken to the next step.  Let's just say a couple of cops found themselves publicly embarrassed, and the embarrassment went all the way to court.  I fell out laughing. 

 

 

 

 



Columbus Day Sparring

Another Monday night, and a holiday at that.  However, the public school kids had to attend class today, and the field house was open.  On the way to the gym a guy passed by me on the street.  It was Igor.  He must live nearby, I thought.  No, I didn't say anything to him, and he didn't seem to notice whom he was walking by.

When I got inside the field house, Igor was down by the gym door.  I remained up front talking to Matt, Bean, and Franco.  Colonel, who was also at the end of the hall, announced that Alan had come in through the back door.  I happy to see that Colonel's son, Kenny, was also in attendance.  Amy came in, but Sarah did not.  Charlene, Rich, and Maria filled out the rest of the crowd. 

Kenny asked if I had any fights lately, and I told him about the one with Edith.  When I told him she was seventeen years old, Kenny stood back and said, "Hillari, you must be crazy as a
muthaf&%$#@!"  I laughed.  "It was an exhibition match, so there were no winners," I told him.  "But if they had scored it, how do you think it would have went?" he asked.  "I might have pulled it off," I answered, and Kenny grinned. 

Rich (in the orange shirt) and Franco were up first for sparring, followed by --

Kenny versus Rich.  Kenny and Colonel kept saying that Kenny was out of shape and out of practice.  Could have fooled me.  Kenny was just as quick as he always was.  That was further proven when he and I sparred.  I gave up trying to chase him, but most of my punches were thrown too far away to reach him. 

Afterwards, I got on the black heavy bag, but then I had to stop.  That delayed reaction thing I have to pain is a problem.  By that time, Franco was sparring with Rich again, so I leaned on the ropes to watch.  Alan, ever observant, watched me resting my head on my gloves.  "Are you okay?" he asked.  "I'm a little woozy, but I'll be okay," I answered.  Kenny had hit me in my forehead, twice in my left eye, and socked me in my stomach. 

Charlene and Maria were wrapping their hands near the speed bag platform.  "You were good in there," Maria said to me.  "Did that guy hit you hard?" Charlene asked.  I explained the damage I took, and both women shook their heads.  "See, that's what I'm not ready for," Charlene said, and Maria agreed. 

Kenny and his father spent a lot of time coaching others.  In the photo above, Kenny holds the pads for Bean.  "He's a good coach," Colonel (standing in the background) said, which is very true.  I tried to use what he told me earlier about slipping punches then coming around with hooks to the body.  The slipping wasn't such a problem, but catching Kenny to do the hooks wasn't easy.  He's very good at dancing away before he can get caught with something.

Alan said that Bill over at Hamlin Park would like for me to fight Edith again.  I would like that, too, and I hope this time, it's for a trophy as opposed to an exhibition match.  Alan mentioned to Amy that Sarah could get a rematch with Meg, but Sarah won't be able to go to Hamlin that evening.  I would have gone to Hamlin this past Saturday to get some sparring in, but sometimes, middle-age rolls up on me and raises a stop sign.  I spent most of the weekend in bed, feeling run down.  I didn't attend church on Sunday, and today, Pastor Roger commented, "Playing hooky again?"  "I was tired," I said truthfully.  I didn't make it to work today until the afternoon because I was still out of sorts.  I felt better when it was time to go to the gym, but I seem to always feel better by then.

Sneaking Exercise In

People promise themselves they're going to exercise more, but sometimes the promises don't come true.  It's easier said than done: with all the other things we have to do, like work, school, running errands, paying bills, etc., there never seems to be enough time or energy to fit the exercise in.  If you already are going to the gym a few times a week, the thought may be, "I'm doing enough."  But if the pounds aren't coming off and the results aren't what you want, maybe some more effort outside of the gym needs to be done.

Exercise can be sneaked into a busy schedule.  Walking is one way to do so.  If you drive a car, park a block or more away from your destination and hoof it the rest of the way.  If only going a short distance to get somewhere, leave the car at home and/or save the bus fare and walk the few blocks. 

Jog in place, do crunches or do some other exercise while a half-hour TV sitcom is on.  Rest during the commercial breaks.  That's twenty-two minutes (the time a sitcom actually runs minus the commercials) of exercise right there.  For an hour-long show, the commercials run every twelve minutes or so, so four sessions of exercise can be done while that is on.

There are plenty of exercises that can be done at the desk if one has a sedentary job.  Research these online.  Instead of always taking the elevators or escalators, take the stairs instead.  Have a job that involves driving around from location to location?  Get out of the car and stretch several times during the day.  Exercise during the lunch hour; if there is an unused room on the job, use that.  Maybe you can convince several co-workers to join you and turn that into a regular exercise time. 

Walking a pet a few times a day helps burn calories.  So does playing with your kids (if you have any).  As much as some of us would rather avoid it, doing housework can be used as exercise.  You'd be surprised at the calories that can be burned by washing down walls and scrubbing floors.

Like to dance?  That qualifies as exercise.  Turn the radio to your favorite station or pull out your favorite CDs and move around. 

It would be nice to have an hour or two every day to exercise, but most of us are lucky if we're at the gym once or twice a week.  Ten to fifteen minutes of movement a day, or spread across a few times a day can be just as beneficial.

Sparring With Greg

Two more new people arrived at the gym Wednesday night: Franco and Maria.  Both Colonel and I helped train Maria, who had no experience with boxing before.  Franco, who came in with Matt, was very impressed with what he saw.  "I love this!  This is an old school gym," he said. 

Amy was there, but her sister Sarah was not, so I had no other women with whom to spar.  When it was time to match people up for sparring, I was put with Greg.  Just like Gene, Greg bounces around a lot.  "He's your height, Hillari, so you can use all of your punches -- the jab, the overhand right. . .," Alan said.  "Don't knock me out, Hillari!" Greg smiled.  Whenever I'd hit Greg with something, a hook to the body, hooks to the head, straight rights to the stomach, he'd jump back and spin around.  "Don't turn your back on her. . .relax," Alan told him.  Greg does have some hard hits.  I took a good one from him to my stomach during our last round. 

Franco said to me after Greg and I were done, "You weren't scared in there at all!  You just went after him."  I don't get nervous much before sparring, because I'm usually sparring with someone whom I've sparred with before.  But there's always some concern when sparring with someone for the first time, like I did with Greg. 

I was talking to Maria when Colonel came up to me and said, "Now don't think that I'm trying to be funny. . .," and he took my head and put it next to his chest.  "Please tell me if I'm wheezing," he said.  I could hear some funny rattling in his chest.  "Yes, it does sound like that," I told him.  "I need to take my medicine when I get home.  Don't think I was trying to to get next to you!" he said, and we both laughed.  Alan marveled at how Colonel looked.  "He looks good for a guy who's had trouble with his lung," the coach commented.  "That's because he stays active.  Now if that was another guy, the same age, but not exercising or taking care of himself like Colonel does, that would be a different story," I pointed out.

Franco is the guy in the middle of this picture.  He happened to be standing there as I tried to snap a picture of Alan and Colonel.  Bo is to the right, working on the double end bag.

Adam and Rich sparred again, and Rich said he felt good about it.  It had gone much better that time than their previous sparring session on Monday.  I turned around later to find Alan in the ring with Rich.  They were in a clinch near the ropes.  I leaned over the ropes and said to Alan, "Hey, Pops, what are you doing sparring?"  Some of the guys standing near laughed when they heard me.  "We're just running drills," Alan smiled. 



Matt (in black) seen here talking to Colonel, kept complimenting on my singing last Friday.  "You have an unusual quality to your voice, sort of like Dionne Warwick.  Has anybody told you that before?" he asked.  My late mother once told me I had a specific sound (she was a soprano, I'm an alto who sometimes sings tenor and contralto).  I've been told my singing voice resembles Sarah Vaughn and Mahalia Jackson (very high compliments because those ladies could sing), but being compared to Dionne Warwick (another great singer)?  That's a first.

Another shot of the two old men in the gym. Alan and Colonel.  Igor (who was in the gym earlier in the evening), Bean, and myself qualify as old, too, since we are in our fifties.  But Alan and Colonel take the prize for being the oldest people there since they are in their sixties.  Both men are proof that just because people are senior citizens, does not mean people have to stop exercising and not take care of their health. 

I think I may go up to Hamlin Park this weekend and see if I can get some sparring in.  I need the extra exercise because I seriously slacked off all summer long.  While doing laundry last night, I noticed a lock had finally been installed on the bike room door.  I took my bike and locked it that room.  The bike was only rode once all summer, and it probably won't be again until next May.  My quad roller skates saw no action either, and I haven't been on my in-line skates for about three years. My game has to be stepped up because the holidays are rolling in soon, and you know what that means.  I'll be sneaking to the grocery store all the time buying eggnog, something else that needs to be eliminated from my diet. 

Monday After Another Boxing Show

In this photo, Alan makes comments as Adam and Rich spar.  It seemed to be an exercise in frustration for Adam for a minute.  Rich caught him with a few hard shots.  "I'm trying to get punches in," I heard him tell Alan.  Alan advised the both of them to slow down.  It was a case of one throwing hard shots and the other deciding to answer with even harder shots. 

As usual, I broke my own rule regarding sparring so soon after having a fight.  Sarah and I sparred.  Earlier, Alan asked me, "Any soreness from the fight?"  "I felt very sore on Saturday, but not so much on Sunday," I answered.  I assumed I was okay to spar, but later on, I was hurting again.  I doubt that any of that damage was from Sarah because we weren't going that hard.  Amy described my fight with Edith last Friday as "a war", and it basically was.  I was still feeling residual damage from that.



Greg (in the gray shirt) and Nathaniel sparred for a few rounds. 

Matt (on the left) and Alan were having a conversation about religion in this photo, taken near the end of the evening.  Today, I told Pastor Roger about Willie praying with everyone before the fights on Friday night, and he was pleased.  "Go Willie!" Pastor grinned.  Pastor Roger probably thinks I should be witnessing to everybody at the gym and dragging them down to church.  However, I've always liked that the gym is a mix of people from different backgrounds, including different religious backgrounds.  Like John, a lawyer who used to attend the gym said, "It's like the United Nations in here!"

Giving Up Thirty-Three Years

The picture above is of Alan warming up Sarah for her match against Meg at Loyola Park's annual Boxing Explosion show Friday night.  I gave Sarah some pointers based on the three times I fought Meg. 

The crowd was not as big this year.  I kept hearing how bad traffic was from people who fought through it to get to the field house.  Andre showed up, but he didn't want a fight.  He's still nursing the rib that got cracked by Andres.  Gene, Adam, and Rich all weighed in, hoping to get fights, but alas, there were no opponents available for them at that show.  Willie called all the people who had fights into the gym, prayed with us, and gave us a pep talk. 

An acquaintance of mine who sings professionally (and very well at that), KT, came out to the show.  "This is the first time I've ever seen a live boxing show!" she told me.  KT takes martial arts.  I tried to get back around to talk to her after my fight, but I kept getting stopped by others who wanted to talk about my fight.  I sent her an email saying I appreciated that she attended.  Alex, who is a member of my church, attended the fight, too.  Pastor Roger and Virginia were no-shows.  I know Pastor's back had been bothering him all week.  Maybe that's why they stayed home.

Instead of singing "The Star Spangled Banner", I sang "My Country, Tis' of Thee".  Recently, I've been thinking a lot about my early years in grade school, and how we used to sing that song every morning after saying the Pledge of Allegiance.  Of course, that isn't done in Chicago Public Schools anymore.  That's too bad because it was a good way to start the day. 

Just like last year, I didn't get to see all of the fights in their entirety.  I was running back and forth and talking to people so I missed a lot.  I do know that most of the guys in the youth boxing program did very well.  One of the smaller boys lost, and he grumbled about to me afterwards.  "The other boy hit me and knocked my head gear loose.  But I came back and gave the boy a knockdown, but the referee didn't count it that way," he said.  I had seen his fight, and he was right.  "Don't worry about it.  You did a good job, and the next time, you will use what you've learned in this fight to win your next fight," I advised him.

In this photo, Meg is in the corner as Bill, her coach, and the second corner guy give her advice.  Sarah towered over Meg.  However, Meg knew how to get punches in to Sarah's face and head.  Every time she got inside, Meg threw some bombs, several of which had Sarah's head snapping back.  But Sarah did use her long arms to an advantage.  Meg couldn't easily get next to her all the time because of it.  Sarah grabbed Meg's arms at times to slow down her punches.

I had planned to work Sarah's corner, but her fight was the fourth one, mine was the seventh, and there was a possibility that my fight could have come up sooner, based on what happened in the fifth and sixth fights.  Her sister Amy worked her corner instead.  I thought that was good that Sarah's sister should be in her corner.  I wish my younger sister was still living to see my fights, but she might not have worked my corner.  She probably would have stood in background shaking her head saying, "Ain't no way in hell I'd willingly let someone throw punches at me!"  The funny thing is, as vicious as my sister could fist fight people, she'd probably would have had more wins than I if she'd taken up boxing.   

Meg got the win, as you can see here in this photo.  She told me later that all of the women who box through the Park District should visit each other's field houses and spar with each other.  I agreed with Meg that it does make a difference when women train together.  I told her coach that I will do my best to come down to Hamlin in order to get some sparring in.  Meg said that I should also bring
Sarah and Amy along.  Meg's three kids were in attendance, along with her husband, whom I finally got to meet.

As Alan got me ready to go into the ring, he leaned over and whispered, "You can take that girl.  You have trained for awhile and have the experience.  Hillari, you're 50 years old.  She's seventeen."  I did a double take.  Damn. . .she's in high school? I thought.  "Hit her like you're a woman.  Fight her like a woman," Alan said. 

I wasn't wearing my usual Loyola Park tank top -- all of them are in the dirty clothes hamper, waiting to be washed. The referee told me I couldn't wear the Loyola Boxing shirt I had on because it had sleeves.  "This is ridiculous," Alan grumbled.  I agreed, especially since I had seen several of the boys wearing T-shirts.  I had another T-shirt on under that, and Alan had to roll up the sleeves.  It was said from the announcers' table that my match would be an exhibition match.  No winners, no losers. 

After that first hit I took from Edith, a Latina teenager who was about my height, I made up my mind that I'd better come with something.  The thing about those one minute rounds is that there's no time to feel someone out or figure out their style.  Punches have to be thrown quickly, and a lot of them need to be doled out.  I gave Edith shots to the face, but she worked on my body.  I was changing into my bed clothes about a half-hour ago, and my left side went "ping".  I don't remember taking a shot in that spot, but I must have. 

The referee had to keep telling us to "Break!"  Either she was grabbing my arms to keep me from punching, or I was grabbing her.  I stepped back during a moment in the second round to avoid an incoming body shot.  I slipped, fell, and rolled over.  When I got up, the referee gave me an eight-count.  I could hear Alan outside the ropes fussing about the ref's call.  I didn't argue with the ref, like so many boxers would have, but I gave him a look.  "Are you able to continue?" he asked.  "Yes, I am," I curtly answered. 

After the fight was over, I thought, if I won, fine, if I didn't, I just have to take the loss.  But then I remembered it had been an exhibition match.  I tried to find out why mine and Edith's bout was designated that way, but I didn't get any answers.  But it might have been because I gave up thirty-three years to Edith in that fight.  She was good.  She's only been boxing for a year.  I told her to keep on boxing.  Her stance was very good, and her punches were dead-on for the most part.  The girl was no joke.

This photo was taken after the show had ended, and everyone had gone back into the gym to collect their things.  The man in the CTA uniform on the left is Gary.  Yale, a referee, is in the middle, and Alan is sitting on the desk in the gym.  Gary is a boxing official, too.  When Gary and Yale were younger, they participated in a lot of boxing matches. 

Bill told me, "I'll see you at Hamlin!"  They have a show coming up soon, and I'd like to fight at that one.  I found out that Andrea, another Hamlin boxer whom I fought and won against a few years ago, got married, had a child, then moved overseas.  Her husband's employer transferred him to Singapore.  I told Meg that I wondered what had happened to Andrea.  Life certainly takes people in different directions.

Colonel Returns

Charlene, who hadn't been at the boxing gym for several sessions, returned on Wednesday night.  I like Charlene's speaking voice.  She has a very light, ladylike way of speaking that I think would serve her well if she was to do voice over work.  Charlene asked me to go over some technique with her since it had been awhile since she'd been there.  While I was helping her out, Colonel walked in.  I was extremely glad to see him, and I gave him a big hug.

"I missed out on getting some big money," he told me.  Colonel was going to take a temporary consulting job in Afghanistan.  He had been in the military during the Vietnam War, and sometimes, he's asked by the military to come in on projects and lend his expertise.  But health issues interfered, and Colonel couldn't pass the physical.  I could tell that he had lost some weight, but for a 65 year old guy, Colonel looked good.  He also helped Charlene with her stance, punches, and wrapping her hands while he was there. 

Matt saw Colonel with Charlene and assumed correctly that he was a coach.  "He doesn't coach for the Park District, but Colonel has coached elsewhere," I explained to Matt.  Matt introduced Pedro, who had missed the first day of the Fall session.  Pedro said he hadn't boxed in a long while, and needed refresher lessons.  "Hillari knows what she's doing, and you can also get help from most anyone else in her," he told Pedro. 

The first sparring match of the evening involved Sarah and I.  We were going at a slower pace.  Alan liked that, and told us to keep it up.  My objective was to give Sarah more work, not so much to practice myself.  I'm not sure how well I'll do this Friday.  I felt sluggish and sore when I woke up Wednesday, and I didn't go in to work.  I rested most of the day (well, if you call playing on the computer resting), and tried not to move around much.  I felt somewhat okay to go down to the gym, but I was still dragging.  Sarah and I did two rounds and a half (we started the first round in the middle).

Rich and Jake were at it again in another sparring session.  I was wincing at some of the hits they doled out to each other.  There were full-on hard shots being thrown to their heads and faces.  I was so busy trying to get the picture above that it didn't occur to me that maybe I should get back from the ropes -- they were that close to me.  Another second, and I might have been hit by accident.

Rich sounded like he was interested in getting matches, period.  Alan and I were trying to figure out the weight requirements that deemed a fighter a light heavyweight.  We finally figured it out, but it seems like the numbers change depending on where you're looking for the information.  I think the amateurs' weight classes are a little different than those of the professional boxers, and those are different from the international amateur weight classes. 

In this photo, Alan gives advice to Adam -- the guy I couldn't identify in the photos on Monday.  He sparred with Jake, and I recorded the rounds with Adam's cell phone.  Adam would like to fight on Friday.  That's the first time I've heard of a new person coming in a few days before a boxing show asking to participate in it.  Alan told him what to bring, what to wear, and when to show up. 

Bo, the guy in the picture above, was watching Adam and Jake spar in-between working out on the double-end bag. 

I heard Bean (on the right in this picture) giving Bo some strength training advice later on.  Bean is a trainer.  He's in decent shape for a guy who is 55 years old. 

Throughout the rest of the evening, I helped Charlene.  Outside of sparring, I didn't do much of a workout.  Lately, I've been really, really feeling like the middle-aged woman that I am.  My mother's recent death was a bit of a wake up call.  Ma's stroke was caused by high blood pressure.  I didn't know she had it, and I don't think she did, either.  Twenty years ago, Ma told me that her blood pressure had tested high a few times when she'd gone to the doctor.  She gave the impression that the doctors had said something to her about the results, but Ma dismissed their concerns.  She never trusted doctors completely, insisting that her home remedies were better.  Dad, who also had high blood pressure, cursed about what doctors would tell him, too.  Maybe they both would have lived a little longer if they had listened to advice.  I've been looking at my diet recently and making changes so that it is more low-carb and low-salt than it has been.

Alan asked about the height of Meg, the firefighter from Hamlin Park whom Sarah has a match with on Friday.  "She's a little taller than I, but Meg is shorter than Sarah," I told him.  I told Sarah that I lost all three matches I had against Meg.  But it's not like Meg can't be beat.  I saw her lose a match at Brooks Park late last year.  Meg likes to come in throwing bunches of hard punches, then darting back out.  I can't move as fast as Meg, and by the time my brain registered that I needed to cover up, duck, or slip punches, it was too late to avoid them.  But Sarah's height and arm length will be her biggest advantages over Meg. 

Most of the new people returned on Wednesday, but I did notice that some were already missing.  Mary asked me to look out for a guy named Roman.  Roman had allegedly expressed disappointment about the gym.  It sounded like Roman was expecting a lot of one-on-one instruction, but it's a Chicago Park District gym.  The coaches do their best to get around to everybody, but they can't focus exclusively on one while forgetting the others in the room.  I think I remember the guy; he arrived with a woman on Monday maybe about ten or fifteen minutes after the gym opened. 

Alan had all the newcomers in the ring for group instruction like he always does at the beginning of each session.  Roman asked me if he and the woman should go into the ring.  I thought it was obvious that's what they should do since they saw and heard Alan giving instructions. Instead I said, "Yes, all the new people should if they've had no prior experience with boxing."  Later, I saw them hanging outside the gym door, watching everyone else, then I looked up again, and they had gone.  There have been many who've come through that gym, unsure of what to do.  But most of them would eventually ask others for help.  I don't think that happened in this case.

Fall Starts Busy

 

The gym was hoppin', as they say, the first night of the Fall session on Monday.  The picture above is of some of the new people who came in.  Unfortunately, I didn't get every one's name, which is unusual for me.  I like to introduce myself to everyone who's new to the gym, but I didn't get the chance this time around. 

Some former gym attendees were among the new people including Nate and Matt (who used to come to the gym with his friend Cindy).  Bean, a trainer himself, joined the gym; he had been there a year before to check out the place.  He remembered me from that time.  He gave me some good tips about doing push ups.  My arms should be closer together, not straight out with the elbows going out.  "Start doing push ups on your knees first if you can't put your legs straight out," he told me. 

I was pleased to see Sasha, who had said the week before that she would be signing up.  There were a few other unfamiliar female names on the list, but they weren't there.  Renee was back, as promised.  Amy was there, but her sister Sarah had to attend a meeting at work.  Alan was trying to figure out who to pair me up with for sparring.  When Renee begged off, he tried to convince her. "Come on. . .Hillari's got a fight this week and she needs the work," Alan said, but I ended up being in the ring with Gene.

But first, Gene got in the ring with one of the new guys, who's in the above photo.  Gene had told me he was feeling nervous about Friday's boxing show.  I told him not to worry about it.  The minute rounds seem long, but they're over quickly. 

Gene was taking some hits from the new guy, and several times, Gene was in the corner having the blood wiped off of him by Alan.  Alan kept snapping at Gene to grab the other guy when he got in close.  When Gene and I were in the ring, he did grab me a couple of times, which slowed down my momentum.  I was really awkward the whole three rounds.  "Come on, Hillari!  You have to get close to him then work your shots," Alan said.  I caught him in the corner a few times, but I couldn't keep him there.  Gene darts out of those tight spots as soon as he's in them. 

Paul, Alan's boss at his day job, held pads for me before I sparred.  "The hooks are your power shots," he told me after I had thrown a few.  I got tired in the middle of the round, and it worried me.  Sometimes my stamina is very good, and other days, it's just not there.  I hope it's there on Friday.  Alan told me I won't be fighting Meg from Hamlin Park; she'll take on Sarah.  Another person is set for me, but I have no idea who it is. 

 

I was really happy to see Jake (on the right).  He had decided to take a summer break from boxing.  Alan joked with him about taking a fight on Friday.  Jake plans to attend the show.

Rich (on the left) was yet another new person who decided they wanted to spar that night.  He and Jake mixed it up.  I thought they were evenly matched. 

 

A lot of the new people took interest in the sparring that was going on.  It's unsure how many of them will want to spar.  I'll learn more as the session goes on.

There wasn't a lot of room to move around in the gym because of all the people. 

 When Bean came in last year to look at the gym, he saw only two or three people.  "I thought that was nice, it'll be a lot of room to work out," he told Alan.  Bean had come around near the end of a session, which was why he found the gym like that.  He was surprised at all the people in the gym this time.  Unfortunately, as per gym history, it'll probably thin out in a few weeks.

Catching Sarah's Jabs

I was so preoccupied with all the drama surrounding Ma's death that I didn't recognize Brandy at first when she was running towards me on the sidewalk.  I was walking home after work, and she was out exercising.  We said a quick "hello!" as she continued running on.

The gym opened on time, but Alan didn't arrive until way after eight due to a meeting he had at his day job.  Anthony came in, looking for Gene who didn't come in Wednesday night.  "I need to get some work in," Anthony kept saying.  He wants to fight in the boxing show next Friday.  Andre decided not to attempt sparring due to his broken rib. 

Anthony eventually convinced Tommy (in the photo above) to get into the ring.  Tommy kept making jokes about "I'll go in only if 911 is called first".  He saw me with my camera and said, "Make sure you get pictures of me being beat down.  I'll need them for evidence!"  Anthony said they would go light.

However, Anthony (in the white shirt) gave Tommy a few hard shots, including a hook to the head.  Each time, Tommy had to take time out to catch his breath and clear his head.  Alan kept telling Anthony to take it easy.  Andre (in the doo rag) gave some pointers.  I used Anthony's cell phone to videotape the rounds.

Tommy hung in there, but two rounds was more than enough for him. 

Prior to that, Sarah and I sparred.  My mind wasn't totally focused on the gym, and initially, I wasn't too keen on sparring that night.  The day before, I informed the hospital in California that I would not pay to have Ma's body shipped back to Chicago, nor was I going to have a funeral.  The cost was too high, and I wasn't about to put that financial burden on my aunts, either.  None of us are rich, and besides that, a couple of my aunts are dealing with health issues.  The social worker I talked to at the hospital seemed taken aback at my attitude.  I guess he doesn't know many people who had contentious relationships with their parents.  Maybe that social worker should get around more.  Pastor Roger seemed a little surprised as well.  He kept offering suggestions for a funeral or memorial service.  "It's a done deal. The state of California will cremate my mother's body on their dime," I told him.   

I forced myself to pay attention in the ring.  Alan told me to catch Sarah's jabs with my right hand.  In between rounds, I told him, "It feels easier to catch her jabs with my left hand."  "It's better to catch them with your right, so you can throw a jab back," Alan explained.  For the next three rounds, I did just that. 

After sparring, I groaned about being tired.  "You ain't tired!  What are you talking about?  You ain't tired," Anthony smiled.  "I'm an old woman," I said, as I dropped my headgear to the canvas.  I don't know how well I will do against an opponent - if I have one - next Friday.  But I have full confidence that Sarah will do well. 

 

 

My Mind Distracted

It was a rainy night in Chicago. . . .I commented to Carolyn that I wasn't sure if anyone would show up to the gym Monday night.  No one was waiting outside the gym door when I got there.

Andre came in a few minutes later, followed by Amy, Sarah, and Anthony, who gave me a big hug.  I hadn't seen him in a long while.  I had just went through some old entries last night and saw that I had mentioned him several times.  Marcus and Gene came in also.  Alan was out because Monday was Rosh Hashanah.

Andre and Anthony wanted to spar, but the rules are, when the coach's not in, no sparring takes place.  But they got into the ring, promising to do some sparring drills.  Anthony did not wear a mouth piece.  I watched carefully so he didn't hit Andre in the ribs.  Andre has a cracked rib due to sparring with Andres the other week. 

Gene got in with Andre.  I kept reminding Gene to keep his right hand up, as well as throw his jab out completely.  Andre's rib didn't keep him from dancing around Gene and throwing quick punches.  Andre came out, and Anthony got in, coaching Gene the whole time as they moved around.  Gene had gotten tired, but Anthony encouraged him to keep punching during the last 30 seconds of the round. 

Sarah and Amy did sparring drills, too, but unlike the guys, they wore no headgear or mouth pieces.  Sarah threw punches while Amy caught them during the first round they were in the ring.  The second time around, Amy threw hooks while Sarah defended against them.

I didn't do much of a workout.  My mind was distracted by the fact my mother's body is still in San Francisco.  I showed up to work this morning, and Virginia, the pastor's wife, was there to tell me her husband was ill and wouldn't be in.  She had to leave briefly to pick up some bread for this morning's food pantry, so I watched her little boy, Isaac.  Isaac and I spent a pleasant time watching Elmo videos on YouTube until his mother returned. 

Everybody, including Vera and Stephanie, two of the food pantry volunteers, were surprised I had come to work.  When my dad died eight years ago, I came to work that Monday because I had to take care of some work related duties.  I was off the rest of the week after that, but things were different back then.  I was working at a full-time job that provided benefits, and I could afford to take the time off.  These days, I work two part-time jobs (albeit in the same place),  I don't get benefits, and any time lost at work is lost wages.  The main job of dealing with Dad's funeral arrangements fell to my stepmother, but he had insurance to cover things.  As far as I know, Ma had no insurance or money, and as her only living child, everything falls on me. 

So I half-heartedly shadow boxed, and I barely hit the bags.  The rest of the time was spent watching everybody else run drills.  I was the last one out of the gym.  I walked home alone in the rain, my mind still distracted.