Hot Time In The Gym. . . Literally

Above is one of the rounds of sparring that Ray and Leon did.  None of the trash talking that was evident on Monday; just two guys working with each other in the ring.

In the above picture, Amy works the heavy bag.  Alan is on the speed bag in the background.  See that fan next to him on the floor?  I donated that fan a couple of years ago, and it was needed tonight.


Oscar and I sparred right before Ray and Leon did.  "I give you credit for hanging in there with him, because Oscar is quick," Ray told me later.  "Yes, he is.  I couldn't chase him around the ring," I replied.  I didn't think I did so well.  My hands were down at the wrong times, and I waited on Oscar too much when I should have thrown the first punches.  For some reason, I couldn't get in any left hooks to Oscar's head, but I could get in right hooks to his midsection. He likes to throw right hooks, and I remained mindful of that.  A few did connect, however. 

The second video is a continuation of Ray and Leon sparring.  They only did two rounds.  The heat in the gym didn't help either.  I was too drained after sparring to do a few more rounds on the bags.  Most everybody else was feeling the effects, too. 

A Sparring Debate

It was so hot in the gym.  It was 90 degrees outside. As soon as Carolyn opened the door, I turned on the fan, but it didn't help much. 

In the clip below, Derek and Oscar spar.  Alan and I can be heard having a conversation as the action rolls on.  I sparred with Oscar after Derek's time was up, and I can tell you that Oscar has improved greatly.  One of his punches caught me in the mouth and nearly had me stretched out on the canvas.  Alan kept saying, "You can get him!  He's the same height as you!"  But Oscar is faster and hits harder.  I made one good combination: a left to his face and a right hook that sent him back into the ropes.  After that, it was all Oscar's show.

An ex-boss of Alan's named Kevin, and his son Tom came in the gym.  Father and son, shown in the picture below, tried some sparring with Alan in the ring acting as referee.  Kevin popped his son with a right.  The whole gym went, "Ooh!"  Alan joked to Tom, "That's for when you do something wrong the next time."  "That's right!" Ray agreed as he was grinning.

 Leon came in later in the evening.  He couldn't convince Oscar to spar with him, and Leon jokingly told me, "You're next!"  Ray agreed to put on the gear and step inside the ring with him.  Leon got in a couple of good shots, and Ray, who knows how to slip punches very well, caught Leon with a couple of good ones.  Leon backed Ray up into a corner, and Ray slipped and fell.  Leon swore that it was a punch that knocked Ray down.  Ray, in the red shirt in the photo below, said it wasn't, and the debate started.

The two men got loud with each other, and Alan looked at Leon and asked, "What does it matter?"  "It matters to me!" Leon exclaimed.  Leon commented about how Ray's punches didn't hurt him, then accused Ray of trying to bang with him.  "Bang?  Brother, I wasn't trying to do that!  You've got an 80 inch reach and many pounds over me!" Ray protested.  Alan suggested that they settle things in the ring on Wednesday.  Leon didn't want to wait, and he kept bugging Ray to put his gear back on, but Ray wouldn't.

For another several minutes, Ray and Leon went on about their difference of opinion as to how the sparring went down.  Alan and I watched in amusement.  Leon started bragging about his skills, and Ray refuted  Leon's statements.  "I can't wait until Wednesday, man, then I'll show you!" Leon said.  "Yeah, right man.  Show up early next time," Ray said. 

Take It Out On The Bags

The gym was closed for Memorial Day, then vertigo sneaked up on me again on Tuesday.  I woke up dizzy again this morning, but after moving slowly to sit up, the dizziness disappeared. Pastor Roger joked that it may be because of the hits that I've taken in the gym, but seriously, it's diabetes, high blood pressure, menopause or all three.  I haven't figured out which one is the main culprit yet.  It still a bit disturbing that before the last bout I had, the doctor had given me a clean bill of health. 

As a precaution, I did not spar on Wednesday evening. Instead, I targeted the 150 pound heavy bag, the speed bag and the double end bag.  Normally, I'd do three rounds of shadow boxing, but I only did two.  The focus was on throwing uppercuts correctly, and as usual, reminding myself to move my head.  Kenny and Alan were commenting on how I throw hooks while I was on the heavy bag.  They both have said previously that I'm good at throwing them.  However, I don't throw enough of them when I'm in the ring.  "Joe Frazier's body stayed in one spot, but his head was always moving," Kenny said to Alan and I.  "She's been doing three rounds while sparring, but moving the head takes a lot of wind which she doesn't have," Alan said.  "I have to build up my stamina," I told them, which reminded me again that I need to make use of the gym at church.  Last summer, I ran around the church gym for three to four rounds, two times a week in order to get my wind up.  But my knees weren't as bad as they are now.

I learned that a guy whom I had a falling out with late last year came up to church recently to see Pastor Roger.  I try to practice "out of sight, out of mind" when it comes to some people, especially those who have disrespected me and ticked me off.  Pastor noticed that I bristled at the mention of the guy's name, and proceeded to give me a sermon about forgiving and forgetting.  Pastor likens the guy to the prodigal son.  Yeah, right.  "Mighty funny he's always coming up here to be friendly with you, but he can't apologize to me," I grumbled.  I noticed the guy made sure that I wasn't around when he paid his visit.  I pretended the heavy bag was the guy's head and body as I threw a lot of heavy hooks, making sure that each one connected. 

In the video above, Kenny and Professor sparred.  You can hear Alan (and see him near the end) giving instructions.  They were working while inside the ring.  See, this is why Mary doesn't want anyone sparring when Alan is not present.  . .there's always the chance that the guys will really take it to each other.  But, you know, they have to fight that way when they are in an actual match.  The boxers should work together to shore up each others' skills during sparring, but at the same time, people can't afford to play pitty-pat during training.  Especially if they are serious about competing.

Alan sparred with Kenny.  After they finished, Amy crossed the ring as a shortcut.  Alan still had his gear on, so he acted as if he was going to catch her with some punches.  She smiled and scooted past him out of the ring.  He's still trying to convince her to spar. 

Leon came in about fifteen minutes before closing time and got in a very abbreviated workout.  Otherwise, the place was kind of quiet.  We're still in the limbo period before the next session begins.  I heard Alan telling Professor about the once-a-month amateur fights at the Sabre Room out in Hickory Hills.  I'm still trying to get a schedule for the Park District boxing tournaments that start this summer.

"She's Got Hands!"

Paul stopped into the gym yesterday.  He comes around from time to time to talk to Alan, talk to me, and comment on what he observes in the gym.  Usually, he's there for a few minutes then he goes.  This time, he stayed the entire time.  Alan challenged Paul to hit one of the heavy bags.  We all cheered Paul on when he wanted to give up punching the bag after a few moments.  Paul was tired after one round.  "See?  It's not as easy as it looks," Alan smiled. 

Reggie returned to the gym, and he sparred with Jacob.  He had won his preliminary match in the Golden Gloves a couple of months ago, but was beaten during the semi-finals.  The guy who won went on to win the championship in that weight class.  "I could have won that fight if I had been able to get a week's rest beforehand.  The guy I fought was well rested because he had a couple of weeks off before he got to me," Reggie said.  He and Jacob worked well together as sparring partners.

Sarah didn't come in again, so Jacob and I went two and a half rounds (we started in the middle of the first round).  Paul was impressed.  "That guy has to be at least six feet or six foot one, but you were handling him!" he smiled at me.  Ray, who was sitting nearby, commented, "She's got hands, believe that!"  Jacob told me, "You got me good with one body shot."  I was mostly doing all body shots, because it was easier than trying to reach for his head and face.  Jacob got me good in the upper lip during the third round.  That punch proved to me the importance of keeping my mouth closed while boxing and wearing a mouthpiece.  Adult teeth don't grow back if they get knocked out, you know.

Alan got in next with Jacob.  The video above only shows the first of the three rounds they did.  You may be wondering why there aren't more pictures and/or videos of me sparring.  It doesn't occur to me to ask someone to videotape or snap photos half the time when I'm in the gym.  Alan would be the most logical person to ask to do that, but he has to pay attention enough to the action to give instructions.  That's kind of hard to do if one is holding a camera. 

Oscar came back to the gym, and brought a friend of his along. The plan was for me to spar with him, but he told Alan, "My conditioning isn't that good right now," so that was that. 

The gym is going to enter another "no man's land zone" as Alan calls the period between one session ending and other starting.  Spring session ends June 1st, and the summer session begins on June 13th.  Summer usually means low attendance as well.  People don't want to be in a hot, sweltering gym when it's nice outside.  Well, some people don't. 

Speaking of heat, it was early in the evening when I turned the fan on in the gym.  It was not warm outside, as it had rained all day, and the temperature was cool.  It wasn't stuffy in the gym.  I felt sweat on my face, and I had hardly started my workout.  I was wiping my face, and Alan asked, "Are you okay?"  "It's either hot in here, or I'm having hot flashes," I answered.  None of the guys agreed that the temperature in the room was up.  "I must be having a hot flash," I concluded, and the guys chuckled. 

That Familiar Smell

Carolyn opened the gym up last night, and the funk of the place hit me in the nose.  I hadn't noticed it for a long time.  I've mentioned here before that I've become immune to the smell because I've been training there for so long.  I was happy to open my locker and experience the scent of the air freshener I had placed inside it. 

Sarah didn't come in last night, but her sister Amy was there.  Alan suggested that she move around in the gym with me, but that was a no-go.  "My sister said if I spar without her being here, she would kill me," Amy smiled.  Since Sarah was out, I ended up sparring with Jacob.

I took a pop to my right eye, thinking that if there was a little more power behind Jacob's punch, my eye would have been closed for awhile.  Did I mention that Jacob is 28 years old?  There were bursts of action where I would get in hooks to his mid-section and some dead on jabs to his face.  But I was sluggish; a couple of hours before, I took some allergy medicine.  My sinuses had been bothering me all day.  I didn't want to take the pills, but I was tired of sniffling.  Unfortunately, the brand of pills I have make me very tired. 

Alan got into the ring with Jacob next, but he was unsure of how much his sore shoulder was going to take.  "Don't throw any overhand rights," I suggested.  He didn't, but he got Jacob during the second round by bringing his left hand up and under the younger man's chin.  "What kind of punch was that?" I asked Alan in-between rounds.  "I used that all the time when I competed as a young man.  It doesn't hurt the other guy, it just makes them mad," he explained.

Colonel and Ray were at the gym last night, too.  I learned that Ray works two jobs and is going to barber school.  He plans to teach others how to cut and style hair when he graduates. 

Colonel, a Vietnam War veteran, was complaining about his aches and pains.  His hip was really acting up.  "Maybe you shouldn't be here tonight," Alan said, which is something he's told me a few times when I've shown up injured.  "I could be in pain at home or in pain here," Colonel said.  Alan joked about Colonel not being able to get around being 64 years of age, regardless of how much he exercises.  Colonel insisted that it is better for him to work out than to sit down somewhere.  I feel the same way.  I might not be in any less pain afterwards, but moving around is better than atrophying. 

Exchanges In The Ring

I was a little late to the gym because I was too busy watching the beginning of a movie called "In & Out".  I saw it a few years ago at the movie theater, and I hadn't seen it since then.  It stars Kevin Cline, Joan Cusack, Matt Dillon, and Tom Selleck.  Funny movie, but I should have left the house earlier.  I took a couple of my old free weights with me to donate to the gym.

Leon sparred with Jacob.  This time, Alan didn't get inside the ropes to referee.  The coach wasn't feeling too well and didn't bother to change into his workout clothes.  Leon and Jacob were up against the ropes a lot  whenever I looked up to check out the action. 

Leon and Alan were making jokes earlier about prostrate exams which I will not repeat here.  Trust me, they were funny.  Alan said he was going in for a checkup this Friday.  "I wish Kenny Sr. (Colonel) was here.  When he complains about his aches and pains, it makes mine not seem so bad," Alan grinned.

Sarah and I sparred.  Alan commented that we had a lot of good exchanges during each of the three rounds were in the squared circle.  First of all, I took Alan's advice and kept my hands up and close as possible to my face.  Sarah wasn't able to get a lot of punches to my head when I did that.  She did bean me on the top of my head, however, with what seemed like an overhand right.  Twice, due to Sarah's punches and me not watching my balance, I fell to the canvas.  I stayed on the inside as much as I could by throwing hooks to her body.  Sarah said afterwards, "I think I'm going to have a lot of bruises on my mid-section tomorrow."  I staggered over to a nearby stool, plopped down, and attempted to fan away a hot flash.

Sooner or later, I will have to replace a couple pieces of my personal equipment.  Before sparring, I noticed my mouthpiece had a crack in it on one side.  Both of my bag gloves have tears in them.  I do have a newer mouthpiece, but it's one of those that covers both the upper and lower teeth.  I never got used to it, so I will eventually buy a mouthpiece that only covers the upper teeth.  Bag gloves will have to picked carefully, too.  I still remember the sprain my right wrist sustained several years ago because I was using a pair of bag gloves that were ridiculously thin.  I wonder if the current pain in my right wrist is related to that former injury.

Tommy, shown on the speed bag near the tear drop bag in the photo above, comically vowed to master the speed bag.

I'm finished with my paralegal studies; just waiting to receive my certificate.  I may go down to Hamlin this weekend to get some extra sparring in.  Bill told me a long time ago that I could come to his gym, but school started and I couldn't take him up on his offer.  I have to plan extra workouts, also, and that may include working out in the church's gym again.

Feeling Off On Monday

Maybe it was because the day got off to a bad start.  I was on my way to work, and I was hungry.  I didn't want to stop at McDonald's, but it was the closest place.  The cashier behind the counter was so busy chatting with a co-worker that she got my order wrong.  Then she had the nerve to get an attitude when I made her correct it.

It was cold outside instead of being warm like it is supposed to be this time of year.  However, this is Chicago, and the weather does what it wants.  I was freezing even though I was wearing my late sister's old winter coat.  Just as I got up to work, I see a guy who's waiting at another entrance door for the food pantry to open.  Last week, the guy told the volunteers I was "mean".  I won't let the guy run games on me which is why he made the comment.  I glared at him, and entered church through another door. 

By the time afternoon came, I was feeling a little tired and sluggish.  My right wrist had also been bothering me since early in the day.  I hope that doesn't mean arthritis or carpal tunnel. "I'm feeling a little off tonight," I told Alan when he asked me about sparring with Sarah.  Something just didn't feel right, so for once, I listened to my body.  Sarah sparred with Derek instead.

Derek wasn't throwing his punches all the way out in the beginning.  Sarah kept backing him up into the ropes and the corners.  Both Alan and I told Derek to throw in some body shots.  He did get a few in to Sarah's mid-section.

They did three good rounds.  Derek told Sarah that she throws good punches.  "She hits hard," he told me in-between the second and third rounds.  I nodded my head in agreement.  It looked as if she had hit Derek in the eye a few times, and I winced, thinking about the times she caught me in my eye. 

As I was hitting the heavy bag later, I wondered why I didn't pick up any of my dad's football skills.  I played the game a couple of times when I was in my late teens.  I couldn't catch the ball well, and I wasn't running quick enough to avoid being tackled.  During the last game I played, some girl blindsided me so hard that I ended up with a concussion.  My mother's father was an amateur boxer, so I guess I picked up some of the skills he had.  It was probably for the better.  I was never that good at playing any team sport. 

I'm Still Not Moving My Head

Erin contacted me today via email, stating that she was interested in coming back to the gym.  Her uncle John was a professional boxer back in the day; now he coaches.  I gave her the information about the gym hours and fees.  It'll be good to see her in the gym if she comes back.  She had to leave boxing alone for awhile because she went to school.

Leon was in the gym, but again, he didn't stay for the entire session.  He put on headgear, and Alan asked who he was going to spar with.  "Any guy who's available," he answered.  But Derek and Tommy, the only other men in the gym on Wednesday, weren't interested.  Alan wasn't about to do it.  He's still waiting for his torn rotator cuff to heal.  "How about his guy?" Alan joked, pointing to me.  "I don't have any energy for her," Leon smiled.

Sarah and I sparred for three rounds.  Alan told me later that he was trying to get me to dig into her body more with uppercuts. It made sense to me, because I can't get uppercuts to her head. I tried for the body, but I found myself too close too many times, so I didn't give myself room to make them effective.  I did get in body hooks, but those did little to slow Sarah down.  I wasn't moving my head at all, so it got knocked around until the second and third rounds, when I kept my hands up more.  I overheard Alan ask Amy if she would spar her sister.  "I don't think so. . . she beat me up enough when we were kids," Amy grinned.

Sarah mentioned that she had a toddler, a little girl.  "I didn't know you had a child," I said.  "That's why I took off from boxing for awhile," Sarah explained.

Matthieu and Leon

Matthieu came in without Erica tonight.  "She hurt her finger when the car door slammed," he explained.  "Were you the one who closed the door?" Amy laughed.  Matthieu grinned, and assured her that he wasn't the culprit.

He sparred with Leon.  Leon brought a couple of friends along, a man and a woman, but did not come into the gym.  They watched the action from outside the door.  Alan got into the ring to referee them.  Leon caught Matthieu with some tough body shots, but Matthieu hung in there with him.

I always worry when Leon spars with someone, mainly because he's so much bigger than anyone else in the gym.  I heard Matthieu say at one point, "I'm tired," but Alan encouraged him to keep going.

I sparred with Sarah again.  I said, "We'll go light," but we didn't do much in terms of taking it easy, especially during the third round.  After it was done, Alan told me that he was trying to get me to bob and weave and come up with hooks.  I would execute hooks to her body, but I wasn't getting in any to her head.  She got me with an overhand right that knocked my headgear about.  I guess I didn't have it on as securely as I thought.  But then, headgear only protects to an extent anyway.  I was happy that I wasn't dazed and confused when the final bell rang.

Didn't see the Pacquiao-Mosley fight, and at $55.00 for pay-per-view, I'm glad I didn't.  Several Internet reports said that Mosley didn't give much of a fight, even though Pacquiao was going for a KO in the later rounds.  Mosley was looking good during the weigh-in, which was shown on ESPN2's Friday Night Fights.  Teddy Atlas talked to Mosley after the weigh-in, and the boxer's confidence was high.  "Sugar" Shane was asked about Pac-Man's fast hands, and he commented, "I have fast hands, too."  But from what I read, Mosley's hands weren't moving that fast. 

On our way out of the gym, I asked Alan was it easier to train women to box or to train men.  He told me he hadn't trained many women at all, and few had been in attendance when Clarendon Park's boxing program was still in operation.  "Most just wanted to get in shape and stay in shape.  Of the women that I've trained, only you and Evangelina were serious about competing.  But Sarah may be interested in doing that, too. . .I don't know," Alan said.

Vertigo, Or The Shakest Fist In The (Mid)West

"Why are you here?" Alan asked me.  "Because I'm hard-headed," I answered, while shrugging my shoulders.  Sometime later, I fell up against the door of my locker, and Alan gave me a suspicious look.  "You thought I was going to collapse, didn't you?" I said.  "Yeah," Alan said with concern.  Now some of you are thinking: didn't this chick just say in an earlier post that she was suffering from what sounds like a bad case of vertigo?  Didn't she not go to work or the gym the other day because of it?  Then why was she at the gym on Wednesday?  In fact, why does she go down there when she knows she sick and/or injured?

There is a trick to it.  The main thing to do is to not spar.  Also, it's a good idea to take it easy on the equipment, and take a lot of breaks.  I had gone to work in the morning, and stayed longer because none of my work had been done, and it had to get done.  But that might have been too much because when I got home, I was feeling run-down again.  The heavy head feeling hasn't gone away completely. But where common sense would tell someone to stay home, I was thinking, "I don't want to miss a second day of being at the gym this week."  However, to cut down on temptation to spar, I left my headgear and mouthpiece at home.

Alan asked Sarah if she would spar with one of the guys since I wasn't feeling up to it.  Sarah's expression said, "Oh, no!", but Alan assured her it would be okay.  She got in with Jacob, and he wasn't hitting her hard.  She got some good head and body shots on him, however. 

Tommy came in, and he plans to make it in every week.  "When I see Jermaine, I'm going to try to get him in here," he said. Tommy said Jermaine was the one who got him to start coming to the gym, so he feels Jermaine should be in there again, too.

I figured out that I was raising my arms were looking like chicken wings in terms of how I would raise them while throwing uppercuts.  I made a conscious effort to keep the opposite arm closer as I executed the uppercut with the other arm.  It felt better to do it that way. 

I need to slow down from a lot of things I normally do, so I'm going to take it very easy the rest of this week. I doubt that I will spar for awhile, as I'm not sure what brought the vertigo on.    I told Pastor Roger that I have allergies, and he suggested that my sinuses being blocked for a time may have brought the condition on.  It's a possibility. .  .my allergies were acting up for days before that happened.

Off Balance

I had a pleasant dream involving my late younger sister.  We were outside somewhere, and I had learned that she had turned down going to a school.  Can't remember if it was a high school or a college.  Before I could ask why, she told me she didn't think the school was right for her.  "Let's talk about it some more!" she said, then both her and I were laughing as we ran up to a house.  The dream made me happy, but it made me sad as well, as she and I can no longer talk and laugh together about anything.

The alarm went off, and I went into the bathroom.  Then I decided to lay down for another few minutes -- the "Strawberry Letter" portion of Steve Harvey's radio show was on, and I wanted to hear what today's letter topic would be.  I dozed back off.  When I got up about ten minutes later, I thought I was going to join my late sister. The room was spinning.  I rubbed my right eye and thought, "I wasn't drinking heavily last night, so why is the room spinning?"  In fact, I haven't got my drink on like that in nearly two decades.  I was stumbling and dizzy.  "Help me, Jesus", I moaned, as I held on to the wall in an attempt to stand straight.  I was standing there for a long time, until I decided to call Pastor Roger to say, "Uh, it doesn't look like I'm coming to work today."  I was down for the count for the rest of the day.  Needless to say, I didn't go to the gym, either.  Later in the day, I called Alan, who suggested that it was a good idea that I stay home.   

Pat, a friend of mine from high school, sent me a note on Facebook, asking if I might have vertigo.  I get that from playing first person video games (the kind of which I don't play anymore).  I avoid some rides at amusement parks these days because of the same reason.   However, I can't say if that is what it is.  As I type this, I'm still a little disorientated.  I haven't been able to keep any food down yet.  The thought that I was having a stroke crossed my mind this morning; one sneaked up on Dad back in 2000.  "Make sure you take your high blood pressure medicine every day," he warned me when he first learned I had that (Dad had that also).  But I probably wouldn't be breathing right now, so I guess that wasn't it.

I have no idea what brought today's illness on.  Not long ago, I was reading "The Fight Doctor" article in The Ring magazine.  The subject was brain injuries from boxing.  The article mentioned something about not letting fighters spar excessively.  Hmm. .  . .it occurred to me that I've been sparring practically every week for months.  I took several good cracks to my head last week while sparring.  Sigh. . . .it's something to think about.

Baby Boxing

Every time I see Isaac, Pastor Roger and Virginia's son, I comment on how big the boy's hands are.   I had the pleasure of holding him in my arms last week.  His mom had to step away for a few moments, and I had agreed to watch the baby.  "You're just a big, strapping, healthy boy, aren't you?" I cooed as I held him up in the air.  He responded by become agitated.  "She'll be back, I promised," I said, in a vain attempt to soothe him.  I have to give Virginia credit for carrying him around all the time.  Isaac is a whopper. 

"As soon as you start walking, the boxing lessons will begin," I always tell the baby.  It's funny to see the suspicious looks that Isaac gives me when I say that.  His expression seems to say, "Yeah right, chick.  Daddy already told me about you."  His parents smile, but Pastor is not a boxing fan, and I don't think Virgina, like a lot of moms, want to see their child giving and taking punches.  It's an idea, though.  I'm of the mind that all boys -- and the girls, too -- should know how to defend themselves.  If I had children, I'd be that parent that principals and teachers would hate.  The scenario would go like this: I would be summoned to the school because my kid beat up another kid.  I'd ask my son/daughter what happened. As soon as I learned my kid was standing up for themselves against a bully, I'd inform the principal and teachers, "I've taught them to hit back and hit hard to back someone off of them.  I'm not raising my kid to be a victim.  Nor am I going to make it my problem because the school can't seem to put bullies in check."   My mother basically said the same thing when schools would call her about me.  In addition, I'd fight any suspension or expulsion that was handed down to my kid. 

Roland came into the gym last night and talked to Alan about taking lessons.  Alan told him that he had to come back on Tuesday or Thursday to talk to Barry.  You see, Roland is 12 years old going on thirteen.  I talked to him also, emphasizing that boxing lessons are free for those under age eighteen.  "Coach Barry is going to want to talk to your parent or guardian, because he wants to make sure they're gonna be cool with you boxing," I said.  Roland understood, and he was okay with that.  He told me that he saw me fight during last year's Loyola Park Boxing show.  "It wasn't easy because she was bigger than me," I said, not mentioning that she was also younger.  "That when you have to have heart," Roland smiled.

Alan told Leon that I had boxed in that show, and the big man was surprised.  "She sang the National Anthem, too, and then turned around and fought," Alan grinned.  "For real?  She's got all kind of action going on," Leon laughed. 

Matthieu sparred with the Colonel for a couple of rounds.  Sarah and I sparred after that, and we were back to throwing harder punches.  Once Sarah gets going, she never lets up on the ol' one-two.  She hit me in my right eye and knocked me silly.  My vision was off for several minutes behind that, but I kept going.  She kept backing me up into the ropes and the corners, and Alan called out, "Hillari, keep punching while backing up!"  Not easy to do, especially when the other person is taller and has long arms.  We went for three full rounds.  After the last bell, I heard Alan tell Sarah that while it was good that she kept punching, she might not be able to do that easily against an opponent who is her size and height. 

Erica appeared at my side while Jacob sparred with Mike L (there have been so many guys named Mike in that gym; I have to keep them all straight).  "It wouldn't be gym time if I didn't come around and harass you," she smiled.  She had stepped out of the room when her boyfriend Matthieu sparred with the Colonel.  Mike L. took a few hard pops in the face from Jacob, and she winced.  Erica admitted that she had never been hit in the face, nor had been ever been in a fight.  "I don't know how I would take that.  If I would back off and say, 'Okay, this is a sport', or if I would get angry," she said.  "I think sometimes the guys have a hard time differentiating when it comes to that," I answered, thinking about the matches I had seen in the amateurs and the professionals ranks that turned into personal wars.  Thank God I haven't been in any sparring sessions that went that way; I've seen some of those come dangerously close to becoming street fights, too. 

Professor brought his girlfriend Kelly to the gym for a second time, and he formally introduced her to everyone.  She got in a workout, including throwing around the medicine ball with some of the other guys. 

Alan made an annoucement that those who haven't paid the boxing fee yet have to do that by Monday.  There are several who haven't done that yet.  "It's unfair to the people who have paid to be in here.  Also, the gym is small and it gets crowded quickly when there's a lot of people who are in here working out but who are not paid up."  The small space is one of the main reasons why the gym can't operate on a drop-in basis, even if the rules changed to allow people to pay day fees to workout. 

Monday Ups and Downs

At the beginning of the evening, I was feeling a little down.  The overall odd feelings had begun not long after I woke up Monday morning.  I had a strange dream involving not being able to get my locker open at the gym.  The combination I was using to open the lock was similar to the one I used on the locker I had in high school. I was the only one left in the gym, and I panicked that I wasn't going to be able to get my stuff out.  Alan was in the dream, but he had disappeared from the gym, and half of the lights were off.  The appearance of the gym was different which added to strangeness of the dream.  There were a group of thuggish looking guys hanging around the back door of the gym that led to an alley.  A buddy from high school named Riley was among that group of guys.  In reality, Riley has been dead for over a decade now.  I have no idea what that dream meant.

A general feeling of irritation began sometime during mid-morning at work, and continued on throughout the day.  Even before menopause began, I would often have days where I was irritated, but couldn't pinpoint the exact thing that set me off.  I still wasn't in a great mood when I got to the gym.  But exercise is good medicine for chasing away bad feelings.  By the time Sarah and I sparred, after I had done shadow boxing and hitting the heavy bag, I felt better.

Sarah agreed to sparring only if we went light.  She said that she was still hurting from the last time we were in the in the ring.  Before the first bell rang, I told Alan that she and I would take it easy.  "That's what you say," he grinned.  "Would I go back on my word?" I said through my mouthpiece.  "Well, you know, when the leather starts to fly, anything can happen," Alan said, still grinning.  But I did make a conscious effort not to put great force on any of the punches I threw.  Sarah noted that I was doing a lot of bobbing and weaving.  Since we were not going all out, that gave me time to think about how to avoid her punches.  I went under a lot of the jabs and hooks that she threw, then came back up with my own hooks, both to the head and the body.  

Jacob sparred with Alan, as Professor, Ray and myself gave Jacob tips on how to stay alive in the ring.  We were helping out Jacob so much that Alan exclaimed, "What? No one's cheering for me?"  Later, Alan asked me if he had been moving his head enough.  "It seemed that Jacob was popping me in the head a lot," he said.  "You were moving your head, but Jacob did catch you good several times," I answered.

I was really throwing hooks on the double end bag when I heard Professor say to Marcus, "See?  She knows exactly where that bag is.  She is really using her hips to execute those punches."  Marcus was watching me, and I smiled at him.  Ray said, "Well, women know how to use their hips."  Professor agreed, saying, "Yeah, man, they know how to move", and all the guys laughed, and so did I.

Tall Girl vs. Short Girl

Sarah and I sparred for the first time in a long time.  As chronicled before in this blog, I could never figure out how to get around her arms in the past, and she's much taller than I.  But tonight I did, getting in body shots and surprise, surprise, some hooks.  Sarah's sister Amy taped the two rounds we did.  I saw that I was moving my head, but sporadically.  Sarah got in many flurries of lefts and rights, and she really put her weight behind them.  Sarah caught me off guard during the second round with one such flurry.  I stumbled back into the ropes, but I didn't fall down.  Alan got on both of us about keeping our hands up.  Mine were down a lot during the second round.

Leon came in and he sparred with Kenny.  Alan had to push Leon off Kenny a few times, as Leon got a bit rough.  Erica was cringing as she watched them.  Earlier, her boyfriend Matthieu was sparring with Leon.  "I had to leave the room because I couldn't watch them," she told me.  She did watch while Sarah and I were in the ring, but Erica was disturbed by that, too.  I overheard Alan asking her if she wanted to spar earlier, but Erica wanted no part of it.  She was really horrified when she heard I had sparred with Leon before.

I wanted to practice more bobbing and weaving, but while stretching, my right knee let me know that wasn't happening this evening.  I was running down the stairs in my apartment and not feeling much pain in my knees, so I thought I was good.  Tricked again.

Cinderella Knees

Alan was out again, this time due to Passover, so I opened the gym.  It was a fairly decent crowd, but it was so quiet.  Hector said, "It's not the same when the coach isn't here.  I used to him going around asking people if they want to spar."  It was very quiet, even with the radio on.

B.K. didn't have the key for the main boxing gym door, so he let us in via the door that's in the basketball gym.  At one point, we heard someone knocking on the main door to get in.  It was after 8:00 PM by then, so I assumed it was Josh.  But then I remembered that Josh is a rabbi; he didn't come in tonight, either.  It was Professor, who admitted he had overslept.

Sarah had her sister Amy hold pads for her.  Sarah was really pushing with force when she threw her hooks, but her form wasn't quite there.  I showed her how to turn when executing the punches so her full body weight would be behind them, not just her arm.

I was working the heavy bag for most of the evening.  In the middle of a round, I noticed my knees didn't hurt.  Because of arthritis and that hit I took from a car a few months ago, my knees usually hurt most of the time.  It's amazing how one gets used to chronic pain to an extent.  What surprised me tonight was that I didn't feel any pain at all as I moved around. It was as if I was 21 years old again, without all of the medical conditions.  But as soon as 9:00 PM rolled around, my knees went right back to their usual condition.

My Mitts Get Around

Usually, when the coach is absent, and everyone knew in advance that the coach was going to be out, the attendance in the gym is low that evening.  Not so Wednesday night, when it was just about a full house.  Alan had to go to a business meeting, so I opened the gym.  A Chicago policeman stopped in for a few moments and looked around in amazement.  "Are these folks in the Golden Gloves?" he asked.  "We had a few, but none went on to the finals," I explained to the officer.

My punch mitts got a workout.  Matthieu and Erica used them in the ring for awhile.  Then Josh showed up about 15 to 20 minutes after eight o'clock, asking me to hold the mitts for him.  I think that was the biggest amount of exercise Josh did that night.  He was gone before 9:00 PM rolled around.  

Neither Amir, Kenny, Hector, Eric or Leon came in, but Professor stopped in for a minute.  Colonel had borrowed a jump rope from Professor and had given it me for safe keeping.  Professor came in not long after to pick it up.  Marcus signed up for the gym that evening and put in a workout.  Greg, Robert, Bart, Ray, Sarah, and Amy made up the rest of the crowd. 

I arrived at the gym with a headache that started not too long after I got home.  I stopped over at Margaret and Glynn's house to feed their cat Esther, since the couple was out on a day trip.  When I got home, I took a fitful nap.  Since I wasn't feeling too hot, I had a thought not to go to the gym, but I had promised Alan I would open it up.   Once I started my workout, I felt a lot better. 

More Good Advice

"It's only been half a round!  Why are you tired?" Alan asked me as I rested in the corner in-between rounds.  I was sparring Kenny, who was moving fast as usual.  "Because I'm old," I answered.  Now that I think about it, I sounded like some whinny little girl.  I went another two rounds with Kenny, as others in the gym looked on.  "When we're in a clinch, use your hooks.  Don't let me just hold on.  Make me pay for trying to take a rest!" Kenny advised me.  He always gives good advice.  I told him I have a hard time moving my head and getting punches off at the same time.  "It takes a long time to learn how to do that, but it can be done.  The trick is to continue to move your head while you throw punches," Kenny said.

Leon pulled a Josh -- he came in about 15 minutes before closing time.  Earlier, another guy who used to train at Clarendon, Amir, had come in at the suggestion of Leon.  He was saying, "Leon had me come in, and he ain't even here," then Leon showed up.  Another guy named Marcus came in.  He observed the goings-on for awhile before leaving. Sarah brought her sister Amy in, who wanted to sign up for the gym. 

Kenny, who's about 131 lbs., asked about getting a fight.  Alan told him he could get one anytime.  This is the season when the show fights increase, and the Chicago Park District boxing shows aren't too far behind those.  I'm trying to lose weight (again) in preparation for the fight I'll have later this summer, but finding time to get the extra exercise in is a challenge.  I keep forgetting that I still have the paralegal studies classes to finish up.  Plus, I've applied to be a notary public, and there are some classes I want to take (hopefully online) to be a notary signing agent, as well. 

Saturday Night Finals

I was surprised when I arrived at Gordon Tech High School for the final night of the Golden Gloves -- the programs were free.  Hoy, a Spanish newspaper that was one of the sponsors of the tournament, had printed them up in full color.  In the past, the programs were in black and white.

There were some cute pink T-shirts for infants for sale that read: "Future Golden Gloves Champion".  I had told Pastor Roger that I would buy a Golden Gloves shirt for his baby son, Isaac.  The pink shirts were nice, but Isaac is a whopper.  The boy was about nine pounds when he was born, and at four months, he's a lot bigger now.  I lucked up on a kid's medium gray T-shirt which I hope will fit Isaac.  After I made my purchase, I saw Gary.  Gary had Barry on the phone.  I was happy to learn that Barry did get the copy of the DVD I'd made of the Loyola Park boxing tournament.  I had left it in a drawer down at the gym for Barry to pick up.  Barry couldn't make it out to the fights and neither could JJ; JJ had to work that evening.

Percy was working the glove table as usual.  He told me all of his boxers didn't make it past the prelims and the semi-finals due to illness.  A few guys had the flu, another guy got pink eye.  I'm just getting over a cold myself, one that I caught from Pastor Roger.  It's getting on to mid-spring, and the last of the colds and flues are going around.

Thirteen fights were scheduled for the evening, but one didn't take place because one boxer was a no-show.  The other boxer won by walk-over, but judging by the look on his face, I'm sure he would have rather had the fight.  I've never seen any boxer in that tournament happy to win a bout that way. 

There were several matches between female boxers.  I got to shake the hand of Megan Rembold of Rockit Boxing, who won in the 114 lb. open category against Brittany Brown of By Faith Boxing.  While they were in the ring, I thought to myself, "I wish I was their weight."  I was also wishing I fought more like Kendra Cooper of Harvey Boxing who won over Scarlett Swerdlow, who wasn't attached to a boxing club (139 lbs. Senior Novice category).  Cooper measured her punches and picked her spots. 

The ring girls were on hand, and here's another reason why they don't add anything to the sport.  In-between the first and second round of one of the matches, one of them pranced into the ring holding the round card upside down.  She didn't catch on what the audience was trying to tell her until she had gotten half-way around the ring.  Finally, she looked up at the card and turned it around.  There were a group of guys that kept standing up and cheering every time she switched by their side of the ring. I noticed there were no girlfriends and/or wives in their group.  I thought, "If I was the girlfriend or wife sitting next to one of those guys, I'd jumped up and slapped the guy back down in his seat."  Yeah, I'd be that type of wife, and I was that type of girlfriend the last time I had a boyfriend. 

The best fight of the evening was between Alex Martin of Harvey Boxing and Termaine Pride of the Jesse Torres Boxing Club in the 152 lbs. Open category.  I had heard many stories about Martin's prowess in the ring, but I didn't remember seeing him fight before.  Martin was the example of  taking a few punches to get some in, and he really got them in.  Crisp, clean jabs and hooks.  Martin never looked like he was in a rush nor did he panic when Pride backed him up and threw flurries of punches.  Martin handled his business, and deservedly won the Best Boxer of the Tournament award. 

I lost all track of time.  When I finally looked at my watch it was after 11:00 PM.  The matches ended about a half hour to 45 minutes later.  On my way out of the high school, I felt someone tapping me on my shoulder.  It was Tim Kane, who writes some very good boxing articles for the Chicago version of Examiner.com.  "I said to myself, 'I know that girl!  I've seen her on the Internet!'" he told me.  It was very nice to meet him. 

It was a long walk down to the Addison Red Line 'L station.   The Addison bus stops running after about 9:30 PM.  I don't think the California bus runs that late going north, either.  The Brown Line was a little closer, but it didn't make much sense for me to get on, ride one stop south to Belmont, then switch over to go back in the right direction.  That was the main grievance I had about the tournament being switched from St. Andrews to Gordon Tech.  Those of us on public transportation who want to see the fights to the end have to hoof it awhile to get to the next bus or train that's running afterwards.

Alone With The Guys Again

Robin, Erica and Sarah did not come into the gym Wednesday night.  That left me alone with guys who came in: Alan, Bart (that's the guy who's name I didn't have the other week), Robert, Derek, Mike L., Ralphie, and Eric.

There was the usual round robin of sparring; Alan and I were last.  While he was sparring with Derek, I was trying to pick out where I get an advantage over Alan.  I got in one good hook, I believe.  Alan popped me numerous times in my left eye, my nose, and my head.  My neck got knocked the wrong way, too.  One such crack had my head swimming in a fog for a moment, but I stubbornly shook it off and kept going.  Then he caught me three times in my stomach.  Each time, I went, "Oof!"  During the second time I was hit there, Alan said, "See, I catch you like that each time!"  It was the middle of the second round that I remembered to move my head, but it was too little, too late.  I've been good about remembering to move my head while I'm on the bags and shadow boxing, but it'll be a long time before I effectively do that while in the ring.

I feel like I get more out of the workout now that I do incorporate head movement.  There's a still a problem with timing, however.  I don't want to be so predictable that an opponent figures out, "Oh, she moves her head this many times, and always in the same way then gets set to punch."  It still feels awkward to me in terms of balance.  The more I practice it, however, the more it will come naturally to me. 

The picture above was taken at the end of the night.  Had the camera with me all evening, then I forgot to take pictures.  In this shot, Alan and Ralphie (who's sitting down with the magazine) talk about -- what else? -- boxing.

Yesterday, I found a preview clip of the series "Lights Out" on Facebook.  It's a very good TV show about a 40 year old boxer trying to make a comeback, as well as deal with many personal and family issues.  Most of the comments underneath the clip were along the lines of "too bad FX canceled the series".  "What the. . .?" I said, as I checked elsewhere on the Internet for news.  Sure enough, I found a short article on Entertainment Weekly's web site stating that "Lights Out" would not be picked up for a second season.  "That's bull (expletive deleted)!" I exclaimed.  The most recent promo for the show billed Tuesday night's episode as the season finale, but in reality, it was the series finale.  As with most shows these days that are canceled abruptly, there was no tie up to all the unanswered questions presented by the story lines.  It ended with several cliffhangers, including a hint that the main character's latest championship bout may have further aggravated the pugilism dementia that the character was diagnosed with earlier in the season.  Only Lights' sister and middle daughter knew about it; his wife, his other two daughters, his brother, his dad, and the two guys who bankrolled his comeback bout (a Don King type and a ruthless loan shark) didn't.  Now we'll never know how that will play out because the show is gone.  Damn. . .I hate when a show that good doesn't get a chance to keep going.

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.