Moving My Head

I made a conscious effort to move my head while working out on the bags, but I didn't move it very much while sparring with Ralphie on Monday.  Still haven't gotten back up to sparring three rounds yet; I only did two with Ralphie, who hadn't been in the gym for awhile.  I got in some overhand rights, but didn't quite make it concerning the hooks I tried to execute.  "You move too fast for me," I told Ralphie after the bell rang.  "That's just it. . .I move a lot, but I don't throw enough punches," he said.

After I got my headgear off, Alan asked me if I was okay.  "Just having the usual hot flash," I said.  "You always have those right after sparring," Alan noted.  "I'm not getting them at other times, too," I answered.  They're not as bad as some women claim they are -- so far.  

Alan sparred with Mike.  "I'm not slick, so I had to back him up in the corners to slow his momentum down.  But he kept coming!" Alan said after they had completed a few rounds.  He said that Mike hits hard.  I kept telling Mike to work his jabs and follow up with rights on Alan.  Hector also sparred with Ralphie, but Matthieu begged off, and Frank had left early. 

Near the end of the evening, Alan announced, "Guys. . .and girls. . .you have two rounds left."  "Don't you mean 'women'?" I joked.  "There's no political correctness in the gym," Alan smiled.   He's right.  The cuss words fly as fast as the naughty jokes.  I have heard some good jokes down at the gym, but I can't repeat them everywhere.