Octavio Steps Into The Ring

In the hallway outside the gym lay the "Roger" bag, battered and bashed up.  The photo above is of the heavy bag that was hung to replace it.  I'm guessing the bag was hung up sometime on Tuesday when the kids were using the gym.  Because I rather not be reminded of the odious person I named the previous bag after, the new bag will remain nameless.

In this shot, Kenny and Nick stand on the apron of the ring watching Colonel and Ken sparring.  Colonel's doctor said he could step up his exercise routine, but to be careful.  Colonel thought he was being knocked around a lot by Ken, but he did good.

Nick sparred with Ken, but I have no photos because I was taping on Nick's cell phone.  Nick wanted to get an idea of what he needs to work on.  I wish I had a video camera because I would tape everyone's sparring sessions so people could review them.  It would be a great help.

Alan and Octavio sparred; it was Octavio's first time sparring.  Alan went easy on him, but not too easy.  Octavio wasn't throwing his punches out all the way, but after prompting from Alan, Octavio eventually did so.

I would have sparred, but neither Diana, Renee, or Rachel wanted to get into the ring.  Truth be told, I probably had no business thinking about sparring. . . .my knees continue to bother me.  I was pounding the pavement earlier looking for clients (I'm in sales), and my knees and feet don't seem to be able to take all the walking and standing anymore.  That's really a concern, because I love to walk.

Josh came in with his two oldest children, a boy and a girl.  I mock shadow boxed with the boy.  Josh's daughter seemed to want to be somewhere else.  She doesn't seem to have the enthusiasm for the sport like her brothers have.  But just like last time, she asked very intelligent questions about boxing and the gym in general.

Bedbugs and Boxing

Alan is always giving advice and pointers. . .in the photo above, he talks to Amanda after her and I sparred Wednesday night.  As soon as I took the first punch from her, I figured out quickly that she had some experience in the ring previously.  She moves very well around the ring, and she did some nice bobbing and weaving, especially when she sparred with Sarah.

 
Sarah and I commented on what good conditioning Jacob appears to have.  He went several rounds with Alan, and caught him with a good right hook.  "Remember that other day when he did several rounds of sparring?  He wasn't even breathing hard afterwards!" Sarah commented.  I believe Jacob told me he also works out at another gym, so that would explain his seemingly endless energy.   Jacob also sparred with Nathaniel.  Nathaniel had this nice move, where he bent down a little and twisted in order to throw a hook to Jacob's side.

Tommy was really beating on the speed bag.  "That's right, Tommy, kill it!" I joked, and we both laughed.  Tommy pointed at the speed bag and announced, "I'm coming back for you!"

I was so tired when I first got to the gym.  Have I mentioned that the building I live in, like so many others it seems these days, has a bedbug problem?  I clean (using bleach and ammonia), I spray (with over the counter pesticides), I throw stuff out to keep down clutter (I've begun to sell off my old albums), but it doesn't seem to help.  If your neighbors have them, and they haven't been properly dealt with, the problem remains.  I don't sleep much because of them, which is really a trip on top of having to deal with the insomnia that comes with menopause.   I woke up around 5:30 AM, and my legs and arms looked ghastly from all the bites.  It was the worst that I have ever been bitten up by insects.  My skin was raw from all the scratching.  I immediately got up and threw out my couch cushions and most of my bed sheets, pillow cases and blankets.  I don't think I have any pillows left at all.  Then I spent time spraying before I went to work.  It is easier for me to spar ten rounds with the tallest and biggest people in the gym than to fight the bedbugs.  At least I see progress when I'm sparring.  The sofa bed I used to sleep on will have to be thrown out to the alley because it's made of cloth and the bedbugs appear to have made that their personal residence; I have to call movers this week to get estimates on how much that will cost.

A neighbor of mine, Eric, gave me a seven-day pass to X Sport, a popular gym where he lifts weight.  He loves the place because he says it has a multitude of equipment (including heavy bags and kettlebells), plus, it is open 24 hours a day, seven days a week, all year long.  I will try to check it out before the end of the week.  I know that I'll be subject to a sales pitch because the seven-day pass is designed to get people to sign up for memberships.  I can't afford the cost of membership, but I've always been curious about those gyms that are accessible all the time.

Getting The Uppercut In

Leon, Ralphie and Carlos did a bit of interval training on Wednesday. The drill went like this: one person hits the heavy bag for 30 seconds while another person holds it. Then the person holding the bag hits the bag for 30 seconds while the next person holds it, and so forth.

I sparred with Carlos again earlier that evening, and managed to make it through two rounds. I caught him a couple of times with uppercuts. "Nice," I heard Alan say from the sidelines. For the longest time, I have been trying to figure out how to get in uppercuts on opponents. As short as I am, it's not easy. Carlos likes to do a lot of bobbing and weaving. One of the times he ducked down is when I got him with a left uppercut.

Alan told Carlos that he was ready for a match, and he told him about a Park District boxing show that takes place next Thursday. Carlos works various shifts at his job, but he thought he'd be able to attend. "I have to talk it over with my wife before I say yes," he announced. "She's afraid of you being hurt," I said, and he agreed. He also talked about the possibility of being in next year's Golden Gloves. Since he's had no previous fights, Carlos would be classified as a novice in that competition.

Carlos told me that his son Justin would like to box, but his wife nixed the idea. He'll put Justin in basketball instead, when the boy turns six years old. Moms either are for their kids boxing or against it. There seems to be no middle ground when it comes to that. The ones who are supportive of it appear to be really into it when they show up at the matches.

The following day, I was on my way to help Pastor and Virginia clean and move some things up to their new apartment when I spotted Barry in the alley. Barry was working; he's with Streets and Sanitation. He was chatting with a neighbor of mine who lives on the other side of the alley. For several years now, I've been exchanging pleasantries with that particular neighbor, but I never knew his name. After I greeted them both, Barry told the neighbor, "Hillari is one of the boxers at the gym."

My neighbor smiled and said, "I figured that she was." To my surprise, I found out that he's Gabe's dad. His name is David. "I was looking for Gabe this summer," I told him. Gabe was going to college out of state, but he would stop in the gym several times during the summers. "He's going to law school downtown now," David said. I've always thought that David was a good-looking silver fox. Now I see where Gabe gets his good looks from.

Back To Sparring

Oscar and I sparred last night, and he has become greatly improved. He got me with many combinations. I got winded early, and it showed. Remember, I hadn't been sparring for awhile, not since Ieisha scored a TKO on me about a month ago. My mouthpiece was choking me. Alan ran water over it, and he was going to put it back in, but I declined it. I have to get used to wearing it again. "Keep your mouth closed," Alan told me.

I was popped in the mouth, and I tasted blood. After the two rounds were done, I asked Alan if I was bleeding, and he didn't see any red. This morning, I noticed a small cut inside my lower lip. That's the second time I've been cut open in the ring.

My eyes looked puffy too. Upon closer inspection, it looked more like signs of aging, a series of wrinkles/crows' feet forming. That was how Dad looked around the eyes the older he became. Today would have been his 76th birthday. I can still hear him laughing when he learned that I box.

I learned that Alan is about 10 years older than I. I remembered that Steve, the former coach, was about 12 years younger than me. I've now had the pleasure of getting boxing wisdom from both an older man and a younger man.

Alan sparred with the younger of his cousin Ricky's sons last night. I was relieved to see that he wore his headgear. I had just come off of sparring with Oscar, so I sat on one of the stools ringside to watch. Alan popped the kid a bit hard in the face. "I'm sorry!" he told him. "What are you trying to do, Alan? Kill him?" I joked. Later, Alan asked me, "Was I hitting him very hard?" "No, just that one time you caught him," I assured him. "I'm an old man, so I can't out slick guys in the ring anymore. I have to rely on my hands to keep them off of me," he explained.

I've been thinking about having a heavy bag in the house for some time. I have a plastic, inflatable bag that I brought from Everlast. It's okay, but it reminds me of that pop-up clown bop bag I had when I was a little girl. I can't hang one up in the apartment, but I could get a stand alone one, like a Cobra bag. If I had a heavy bag, I could also go back to practicing my martial arts moves. It's been a while since I've been in a martial arts class, but I still remember the techniques. Muscle memory is a beautiful thing.

Get your boxing equiment heavy bags for less.

Taking It To The Eye

I teased little Justin last night. He came in again with his father, Carlos. "You and I are going to spar on Wednesday," I told him. Justin gave me an amused look, and his dad laughed. Willie did a workout last night and noticed E's son. "Hillari, didn't you say that he was the one who knocked you out?" he winked. E's son gave us both a confused look as we giggled.

E thought he had taken a hit to his eye during sparring. I was working out on the uppercut bag while he was in the ring. He rested in the corner closed to where I was during the time out. "Is my eye swollen and red?" he asked. "No, not at the moment," I answered. His son stood next to Alan on the other side, helpfully holding up his dad's water bottle.

Alan's cousin, Ricky, came in with his two sons -- one 20-years old and the other 17-years-old. The sons worked out. "I saw your blog," Ricky smiled. More and more people that come into the gym tell me that.

Ieisha was going to ask me about sparring until she saw me rubbing my left hand. It doesn't hurt as much as it has been, but it still does, depending on how I move it. I was going to do uppercuts on the teardrop bag, but Ieisha suggested that I not do that. "I'm older and that's why it's taking me longer to heal," I said. "They say that 40-something is the new 30," she said. "Can't prove that by me," I grinned. Alan also asked me about sparring. When I told him about the continuing pain in my hand, he said something that indicated he found my claim dubious. "I don't want to get knocked out before I go to my high school reunion," I joked. I can imagine showing up with a black eye and having my former classmates thinking, "Who knew she was that crazy when we were all in school together?"

Deon (I think I have his name right) and Leon sparred. Alan kept warning Leon not to go so hard. I was working on the heavy bag that's closest to the ring, partially paying attention to the action. Several people gasped, and I turned to see Deon fall to the canvas. Leon had hit him in his left eye. Alan instructed Deon to remain laying down, and he did for several minutes. When he finally arose, Deon was a little unsteady on his feet. He said that his vision was blurry in that eye. I overheard Alan admonishing Leon about his heavy punching.

Alan ended up driving Deon to the hospital. I left a message for Barry to say that Deon left his bike in the gym -- he didn't have a bike lock, so that was the best place to leave it. I hope his eye is okay.