Big days, little days.

Big days, little days.

Some days are filled with big things and others have the “usual suspects.”  The same it seems with working out: peppy for two or three training sessions in a row and then the dogs. We’re talking no energy, no pop and not so much going through the motions as just having no energy to get where you want to go!

I had one of those mornings at Gleason’s Gym today.  Sure, I did my sweet 16 (four rounds each of shadow boxing, pad work, double-ended bag and speed bag), but did I ever have to work for them.  Lennox kept shaking his head saying, “wake up, girl!” And maybe that helped because I did manage to bring it towards the end with two hopped up rounds on the double-ended bag and some serious da-da-da-da / da-da-da-da on the speed bag.

In analyzing it later, I realized that part of the problem is I’m still not doing enough during the week to keep the momentum up for a meaningful Saturday session.  A clue on how to do that in an otherwise busy life came from my old Peace Corps buddy Mark who had a post on Facebook today proclaiming that he’d hit his goal of 1,000 sit-ups in a week.

I thought, “1,000!?!  That is a lot!.”  Breaking it down to daily increments, however, brought it more in line with what actual humans can achieve! Reading further, Mark wrote about his formula for success: starting at just 130 for the first week until he had brought himself along to 1,000.

Given that I struggled through my 100 sit-ups this morning at the gym (having only done 20 all week) — it occurred to me that if I followed Mark’s formula of defining weekly goals, it might get me off my tush and into a regular daily sit-up routine. Not wanting to set the mark too high for myself the first week, I’ve settled on accomplishing 300 between Sunday and Friday.  That means 50 a day — meaning about 10 minutes!  Seen that way, there is no way I shouldn’t be able to achieve it.  The same thing for push-ups — or my version of them which means on my knees or against a bar at this point.  Sure, I did 20 today at the gym (in two sets of 10 each), but it was hard and strained my shoulder.  So there again, I’ve decided on setting a goal between Sunday and Friday.  I’m staring off with 60, that means 10 a day — or another 5 minutes a day at most!

Summed together, if I give myself a mere 15 minutes a days, I can meet my weekly goal and have sacrificed nothing. No excuses here!

Kudos to Mark for a great idea!

In celebration of the art of boxing.

In celebration of the art of boxing.

Mischa and Kristina

My schedule has been hectic and fraught with the conflicting needs of family, job and thesis writing, so getting to the gym yesterday felt triumphant.

Lennox Blackmore and I had miscued on our time which meant I did most of my work out on my own starting off with my usual four round sets: shadow boxing, heavy bag, double-ended bag and speed bag.  When Len arrived, I pulled out four more on the pads working my jab-jab-right combination plus the right-left dig, left hook combo.  My last was to work my way through 80 ragged sit ups — but they did count.

The point of writing about it is less to “crow” about boxing for a solid hour — and more about the work itself and the work of everyone in the gym.  ’Talk about inspiring, everyone and I mean every last person was pushing themselves and hard.  That meant young kids, older kids, men and women of a “certain age” and everyone in between, not to mention the boxers sparring with speed and tartness prepping for upcoming bouts!

It got me to thinking that with all the controversies of late whether it’s bad refereeing, bad judging, obnoxious fighters mouthing off unnecessarily or the specter of female athletes wearing short mini skirts in their debut at the 2012 Olympics, the other side of boxing, the miraculous side is all the time spent in the gym, working.

That is what boxing is, isn’t it? At its essence? The magic of aligning the mind and the body to perfect exacting movements so that when a boxer enters the ring there is an opportunity to soar as an improvisational artist at the height of his or her craft.

As with jazz musicians who spend hours a day practicing scales and sonorous trills to keep their lips, fingers, hands, arms, legs and every other part of the body in condition, so does a boxer spend hours at a time perfecting the body and the subtle movements necessary to ply the art.

That doesn’t only mean round after round of throwing the intricate combinations, but understanding the subtleties of the pax de deux — after all, boxing is not a solo sport, but an intricate dance. No tag team, it is a one-on-one battle of skills, stamina, ring knowledge and what we all call heart. It is also performance art as there is that extra shot of adrenaline that happens precisely because it is a competition on a stage bounded by the four sides of the storied boxing ring.

And that is part of it — despite the hype and the crappy stuff that seems to accompany the professional side of boxing and even the amateur side; the ring itself is an arena of magic. It is the place where all of those hours of gym work and road work and mental work thinking about boxing gets played out in the brief snippets of time between the bells.

I know that boxing can be a heartbreaker — as terrible and cruel as any indifferent lover, but it is also a place of work and pride that at the end of the day every practitioner can feel triumphant about.

So yes, while the split decision of the latest Manny Pacquiao versus Juan Manuel Marquez championship bout may feel like ashes in the throat to some, we should also celebrate the hard work of boxing, it is after all what brought those two remarkable athletes into the ring in the first place.

Girlboxing: One Year On!

Girlboxing: One Year On!

Today marks the one year anniversary of the Girlboxing blog.

As of this piece, that means a total of 335 posts and according to the stats, 90,316 total views.  I find that to be stunning and thank Girlboxing readers for all of your incredible support.

Not only has writing Girlboxing given me the opportunity to add my voice to the conversation about women’s boxing, but it has aided me as I have gotten myself back into the ring.  Just today I had the joy of boxing Lennox Blackmore through four rounds of sparring — mind you getting tagged much of way by straight rights and left hooks, but at least I managed to get out of the way a little more than last week and even managed to get in a few shots of my own plus some counter punching.

As with boxing, writing is a labor of process and discovery that demands a level of truth.  What Girlboxing has given me is the opportunity to discover both — something that is reaffirmed in one way or another every day.  It is hard for me to express just how much this experience has meant to me or how much the interaction with Girlboxing readers has come to mean.  I feel as if I have made some incredible friends — and look forward to continuing the dialogue.

One more thing, I know that my columns have been a bit more scant that usual lately.  Mostly I am up to my “eyeballs” in regular work stuff plus writing my thesis for my master’s degree.  I will, however, try to keep to a minimum of four days a week and more when I can.

Otherwise, thank you all again for dropping by!

All the best,

Malissa Smith

Girlboxer!

Short takes from my week.

Short takes from my week.

The past week or so has been a blur of too much to do and not enough time.  I mean I sparred with Lennox last Saturday (make that Saturday — a week ago) and think of it as having occurred months ago!

Casting back, however, I can truly say it was a fabulous four rounds of me getting popped in the head — a lot — ’cause I can’t seem to stay out-of-the-way of Len’s left hooks to my right side, but meanwhile I did manage to get one really sweet shot to Len’s nose that seemed to make up for it all.

Suffice to say, every time one gets in the ring there’s a moment or two of truth and mine was figuring out that I really did like landing that punch.  I mean really liked it, which reminded me that in spite of what of my general “nice person” demeanor, at the heart of it I will go for the jugular if given the opportunity.

So knowing all of that, I learned a tougher lesson two nights ago walking around the Atlantic Terminal Mall in Brooklyn.  It was around 7:00 PM and very crowded.  As I walked through, I became aware of  child crying and yelling loudly.  At some point, coming into the main area near the entranceway (I had walked into the space from the LIRR side entrance), I saw a woman beating her four or five-year-old son with a belt.  There were people seated, standing and walking all around her and the child, and no one, and I mean no one said a word.  It was as if there was this women, her belt and the boy, and the rest of the world as two separate spheres.

Taking this all in, I screamed out, “stop beating that child” and seeing no effect, I yelled it out much louder.  The woman momentary stopped and shouted back at me, “I’ll beat your ass too.”  So, what happened next?  Did the crowd take up my denunciation?  Did they come to the aid of her child?  Give up?

Right.  They yelled at me for “interfering.”   Well.  I didn’t give up and kept yelling while looking for a police officer or a security cop.  None were to be found and meanwhile, the woman got tired of whaling her poor kid and left after nonchalantly putting her belt back on. The whole thing made me feel sick — and I realized that the killer instincts that I had in the ring sparring with Len were not the killer instincts I expressed at the mall.  Yes, I had expressed my outrage, loudly, but I had not put myself into the sphere of her seeming protected space.  In reflecting on it, I know that I was in shock at the surreal nature of what I saw — to the point of experiencing a sort of cognitive dissonance.  I also remember having a dialogue with myself, wondering if anyone else was going to interfere, how many people were with this woman (there were at least three other people with her), what the odds were that I would get into a huge physical altercation with her, what the crowd of seemingly disinterested people would do if I waded in.  In the calculus of those questions, I opted for calling attention to the acts in the hopes of getting the crowd to turn against her.  When that didn’t work, my tactical retreat was to find some sort of assistance to help me wade through. Unfortunately, I didn’t think to call 911 which was likely the best course because, really, if this woman felt that she could just beat this kid with impunity in the middle of a mall (which she did except for my shouts), what was she going to do to him at home.

Just as I learned something from sparring with Lennox, in my confrontation at the Atlantic Mall I learned that in the realm of real combat, my instincts are for the preservation of myself first and foremost.  I’m not exactly sure how I feel about that yet.  I remember in a first responder “first aid”  course I took once, the instructor kept saying that our first duty was to see to our own safety before jumping in to render aid.  Perhaps that was my instinct in a crowded space of uncertain people.  I still don’t feel good about it though — and even though my voice was the only voice speaking up for the child being beaten, the truth is, my voice wasn’t loud enough or definitive enough.  I guess I’m going to have to work on that too.

 

Great gym morning!

Great gym morning!

There’s nothing like a great morning at the gym to start off the day.  This morning did not disappoint either — between working out with Lennox focusing on pushing off the body to throw a right dig, straight right, left hook combination and watching everyone work through the heat and humidity of the gym to shake of the summer doldrums, the focus and energy seemed to shake everyone awake.

It’s as if everyone felt inspired by the work of everyone else too.  Punches seemed a little bit crisper, body work a bit more dug in, and the sparring seemed more like dance than boxing. Even the mirror work felt fun with lots of talking and instruction through the rounds and a genuine feeling of camaraderie to add an extra something to everyone’s work out.

I started off with a slow and steady one mile run and then did my usual sweet 16, though I admit to flagging hard in my third round with Len.  Still, I pulled it out and after allowing myself a round off, started to work the double-ended bag with renewed vigor especially went it came to doubling up the left hooks.

All I can say is count me lucky to have had such a great way to ease into the last weekend of summer.

Wordless Wednesday – 8/18/11

Wordless Wednesday…

Lennox Blackmore, Gleason's Gym, Spring 2011

Wordless Wednesday is a group of bloggers who give words a rest once a week.

Women’s Boxing: Sonya Lamonakis to fight on 8/20!

>>>UPDATE>>>

In her usual crowd pleasing fashion Sonya Lamonakis made it an even 6-0 with her win over Tiffany Woodard.  Capturing a majority decision, the judges scored the bout  59-55, 58-56, 57-57 with Woodard the clear aggressor in the early rounds of their six-round bout.

Women’s Boxing: Sonya Lamonakis to fight on 8/20!

Gleason’s own and Harlem Academy’s favorite middle school teacher, Sonya “The Scholar” Lamonakis (5-0, 1-KO) will be looking to make her record a perfect 6-0 when she takes on Tiffany Woodard (4-4-1, 3-KO’s) at Mechanics Hall in Worcester, Massachusetts on August 20th.

The fight is part of DiBella Entertainment’s popular “Broadway Boxing” series and will feature Edwin Rodriguez (18-0, 13-KO’s) in the Main Event.

Sonya is excited about facing Tiffany again and as she put it, “Hey…yeah…she’s a good fighter…she’s been my toughest fight so far. But I’ve been training hard and I got something new for her.”

Returning to the scene of her first professional victory on June 24, 2010 against Kasondra Hardnette, Massachusetts native (and Greek born) Lamonakis, is itching for a heavyweight title bout. She is currently ranked 2nd in the U.S. heavyweight rankings and 4th in the world.

The fight at Mechanics Hall marks Sonya’s return to the ring after handily defeating Gigi Jackson (2-2) at Foxwoods Resort on April 16th. Lamonakis had hoped her decisive win would put her in line for a title shot against then heavyweight WIBA title holder and Global Boxing Union title holder, Gwendolyn O’Neil, however, a fight was not in the offing and O’Neil has since seen her titles stripped for failure to compete.

The hope is that DiBella Entertainment’s Lou DiBella will be successful in putting together an all-female card at Madison Square Garden featuring Sonya Lamonakis in a main event heavyweight title championship fight.

“We’re hoping it goes through,” Sonya said, “and hoping to get all the local girls that sell tickets on there. It would be a great accomplishment for women’s boxing….Lou Dibella would be smart to do this and support the women.”

Meanwhile, Sonya has been hard at work.

She trains with Lennox Blackmore and Don Saxby and is perfecting her tough, no-nonsense style of boxing that has taken her to the heights of the amateur world and five straight professional victories.

Tickets for the bout are available directly from Sonya Lamonakis on Facebook click here.  Just message her for tickets.  Seats are $55.00 and $75.00. You can also contact  Sharon Lamonakis (Sonya’s Mom!) at 413-863-3052.

Boxing committed, boxing crazy!

Boxing committed, boxing crazy!

Working out in the heat, Gleason's Gym, July 22, 2011

Given that I boxed in the heat on Wednesday, I had zero intention of finding my way to Gleason’s Gym this afternoon — in 104 degree heat!  In fact, I was all set for a 9:00 AM training session with Lennox Blackmore (with a temp  around 90), when we got to texting and his 4:30 PM Saturday became my 4:30 PM on Friday!

Amy Scheer, "wait for it" blogger

Meanwhile, I’d already met up with Girlboxing pal Amy Scheer visiting NY from Grand Rapids, Michigan who had a fabulous morning training session with Len @ Gleason’s.

We hooked up near Gleason’s at the edge of Cadman Plaza Park (when the temperature was a cool 98 degrees) — and gab, gab, gabbed over lunch at Taza’s about boxing, training and how to get to the next level.  (BTW, check out Amy’s terrific blog, wait for it.)

Amy has been boxing for a while, but is looking to step up her game with sparring, improved technique and maybe even a go at some amateur boxing at the masters level.

After lunch — when the temp reached 100, my plan was to get back to the cool of the office, and figured my exercise of the day would be the sprint home to husband and AC!

Double-ended bag, Gleason's Gym, July 22, 2011

Rock, Trainer, Gleason's Gym, July 22, 2011

Well, the best laid plans … at Gleason’s, however, having missed my connection with Len — I figured what the “hay” and started in on the double-ended bag.

Call me crazy, but I had a blast as did the handful of other boxers and trainers working out!  And really, it wasn’t that bad.

Sandra from Switzerland, enjoying her visit to NY! Gleason's Gym, July 22, 2011

The funky gym smell seemed to have dissipated and I just felt plain old tickled by how good it felt to whale away.

John "Superman" Douglas, Trainer, Gleason's Gym, July 22, 2011

And yes, it was hot, and even hotter on the way home, but I also felt kind of special for hanging in and sweating my way through 12 dripping-wet rounds on the hottest day of the year.

Shadow Boxing, Gleason's Gym, July 22, 2011

Getting “back”

Getting “back”

I worked out hard on Saturday — giving it my all so to speak through my sweet 16.  I even got Len laughing when he asked me if I’d eaten my Wheaties!  Mostly it felt great to sweat and to realize that my stamina was such that I could start to maintain speed — not to say that I was rabbiting through all 16 rounds, but the four with Len felt right except perhaps for the last part of the fourth round when I could feel myself flagging.

Back on the double-ended bag after coasting a round I did forge through with speed again — all of which is allowing me to officially proclaim to myself that my goal of gaining some conditioning is finally being met!

For a 50-something out of shape person, knowing that one can get pretty much “back” to conditioning at the six months mark of training is excellent. I can actually throw myself into a jog without dying and when it comes to gym time finally finding some speed is a truly remarkable feeling.  Len even had a little bit of a wince when I threw a left jab at his body followed by the right to the pad — and not that I’m necessarily evil or anything, but that little tiny push back made me feel like a million bucks.

On top of all of this, I finally had a diagnosis for the coughing!  It runs out its something called Laryngopharyngeal Reflux or LPR.  Often called the “silent” reflux, symptoms and signs include coughing, thick mucous at the back of the throat, “postnasal” drip, throat irritations/throat clearing and even sore throats that seem to resolved after a day or two.

The mechanical action is the acid from the stomach backs into the esophagus through the upper esophageal sphincter.  For people who suffer from heartburn, the acid hangs around in the esophagus, however, with LPR the acid actually backs up into the voice box and the back of the throat.  Hence the symptoms!

I went in for a scope of my nasal passages and throat and low and behold, what we found was an enlarged larynx that showed evidence of having had LPR for some time. In speaking with the doctor, he told me that patients do indeed experience breathing problems upon exertion — and that is one of the reasons patients seek medical attention.

As for treatment — the primary one is a change in diet with several huge no-no’s:

• caffeine, cola beverages, citrus beverages and mints, alcoholic beverages, particularly at night, cheese, fried foods, eggs and chocolate.
• no eating a minimum of three hours prior to bedtime — and no large meals at night.
• a primary diet of green veggies and non-acid forming fruits (60%)
• weight loss.

I’m also being put on something call a proton pump inhibitor (PPI) — a class of medications that essentially prevents the stomach from forming acids.

I still have a few more tests to undergo to rule out a few things, but figure the diagnosis is pretty solid — now it’s just up to me to give up coffee, tea and chocolate while noting that a mostly veggie diet will certain aid in my weightloss campaign.

For more information on LPR, here are a couple of sites.

• New York-Presbyterian Hospital/Weill Cornell Medicine Center
• 13 Foods that fight Acid Reflux
• Proton Pump Inhibitors

Call me Boxer!

Call me Boxer!

As with the practice of any sport — one has good days, bad days and those merely tolerable days.  Then there are the months (or years) off to contend with before hauling you heiny back to the gym, the running track or the yoga studio to begin again.

My sojourn back into the boxing world began last October with a few forays before starting my weekly workouts at the beginning of the year.  Those Saturday’s with Lennox Blackmore have now stretched into one to two more gym days on my own each week, plus my occasional shadow boxing turns around the living room, and those silly flurries I throw walking down the street or in the elevator when I think no one’s watching me (wrong of course because they *all* have cameras!).

It’s gotten to the point where my daughter won’t walk down the street with me if I so much as twitch my left arm towards a surreptitious hook, not to mention the silly skip shuffle (you know the one — the side-to-side shuffle before dipping down to the right to throw an uppercut).

Okay, I guess you get the point.  I’ve got boxing on the mind, the body — and it seems the soul these days.

Meanwhile, back at the scratchy mirror at Gleason’s, I must admit (with some difficulty) that the body facing back at me as I throw my left-left-right-left combo take a shuffle and throw a right upper cut-right-left combo, well, doesn’t exactly fit my image of a boxer.  I mean, geez, I’m what you call a geriatric boxer, okay a geriatric boxer who sweats a lot, and works her butt off into a frenzy of red-faced, sweat-pouring action, but still, I can’t quite see the cuts in those muscles that I *know* are there. (Kind of like my stealth six-pack.) Nor does my body quite move with the economy and swiftness of the young one’s who box alongside me throwing three punches for every one of mine.  I mean really — do they have to be *that* fast.

I guess I’m on this tear because I’ve gone to get my breathing and coughing problem sorted out.  (More later.) As I described my problem to the Pulmonary specialist, it was that little, “you do what?” moment that kind of got to me. “YES, I box,” I said, perhaps a bit forcefully when he opined that I didn’t exactly *look* like a boxer.

Well, yeah, okay… I’m a geriatric superwelterweight with middleweight tendencies of late, I thought to say … so what. I know in my heart of hearts I’m a boxer.  Got it!

Suffice to say, I was less than happy when he seemed to impune my boxing creds or the fact that I have a normal 16-round workout these days that leaves me still standing, albeit in a pool of water.

He did, however, redeem himself, when after the pulmonary function test — as I sat coughing my lungs out – he said, “wow, you really do have a problem. Does this happen every time you box?” And to my affirmative answer he said, (as my heart began to flutter), “This is terrible. I know how much boxing means to you, we have got to get you sorted out.”

Well.  Here I am to say, yep, I *am* a boxer (my very nice Pulmonologist agrees too) even if my silhouette these days is not exactly as svelte as I once was, or “cut” in the ordinary way of a boxer’s body.

As for the breathing/coughing problem — the great news is it’s not exercise induced asthma.  The surprising news is that it may be related to a reflux problem in the esophagus (who knew) or due to a weird malformation in the vocal chords.  I’ll be going to a cough specialist to get some more tests (this is New York, after all) and otherwise am learning to work through the problem as I box so that I can keep going.

Missing boxing today

Missing boxing today.

I worked out yesterday, and pacing myself due to the coughing and breath problem aside,  the workout was really great.

Training by myself, I was able to take it slow and focus on the things I wanted to work on like pounding away at the double-ended bag for a whole lotta’ rounds mostly working on the upper cut off the jab and the left hook off the jab before hitting with a quick straight right and then a shuffle turn around the bag.

When I woke up this morning my arms felt just great. And all day today, I found myself throwing my arms out to shadow box.  Walking down the street, in the elevator at work, waiting for the elevator at home, online at the Grocery store.  Even now, as I drift trying to come up with a train of thought to jot down, my hands start to throw a shoe shine, from down to up to down and back up again.

‘Guess I’ll head on over tomorrow, even though my big workout with Len is Saturday, I just can’t seem to get enough of pounding away at the double-ended bag even if its only for a little while.

If you’re missing the gym too, check out this cool video with Kostya Tszyu.

Something about the end of the world …

Something about the end of the world …

The media, social media included has been all “atwitter,” if you will about Harold Camping’s prognostication that the world will end today at 6:00 PM.

I suppose what fascinates me is the seeming groundswell of fascination with the idea of it.  Does it tweak some secret fear? Remind of us of the many problems we face that might bring about a rapture? Chart our path for how to right our many wrongs?

Meanwhile, we continue to go about our lives.  Some of us happy and content, others in despair.  Not that I actually want to have an end of the world pity party here, but from where I sit, we are always, ultimately at that edge.

Life for all of its incredible force ends all the time.  Some ends are well attended by loved ones others regretful and awful and some even violent and pointless.  And some of those deaths do indeed “end” the world — the world of a family, a village, a nation, until it is reborn into some new configuration.  Not exactly rapture, but change nonetheless.

Is our fascination with the end of the world  really just the fear of a sudden e-n-d — and if so, shouldn’t we be doing something about that?

No, we can’t make it go away, but we can live our lives with a little more intention.  A little more thought to the idea that this really could be a last day and with that in mind, ask the questions about how satisfied we really are with what we’ve designed for ourselves. Are we kind enough? Focused enough? Do we share our largess? Help others overcome pain? And importantly, are we kind enough to ourselves?

Today, I’ll write, do some yoga, box with Len Blackmore, see a friend for lunch, hang with my family, work on a grad school paper and watch the Pascal v. Hopkins fight.  All and all a pretty good last day … and if I’m blessed enough to wake up tomorrow, that last day will have similar features.  A day I can feel good about having pushed for myself and others.  That’s really all we can do until …

Waiting for the end to come.

Waiting for the end to come.

Today was one of those gym days when if found myself waiting for the end. Whether it was the end of the round, the end of the set, or the end of the training session, my entire body seemed to be keeping rhythm to the “why are we here?” mantra.

We’re talking muscles yelling at me, head throbbing from a migraine, lungs shouting “wtf!?!” and legs that refused to bend.  Len (bless him) was a sweetheart about it and aside from a half-hearted, “wake-up, wake-up” during our first round on the focus pads, figured it was best to just go with the low-flow of energy.

Still, I did manage to get through the entire circuit, and even picked up some energy towards the end of my last couple of rounds on the double-ended bag and during my speed bag rounds.  By then I realized that by working it all out on the bag, I was finding a way to push through the physical morass and even found myself working a little past the bell on the last two rounds.

On the sit-up chair it was pretty much more of the same, but at least the head-throbbing was gone by then, and now that I’m home and adequately “coffee’d”,  I’m actually starting to feel a smile coming on.

So, what does it all mean?  I guess to haul your booty out the door anyway even if you’re feeling like dog-doo.  In my case, because I’m on a once-a-week schedule, I really feel that I have to go regardless — and let’s face it, while I’m still not at 100%, having made it through, I feel energized if only because I did complete the circuit. And who knows, I might even find the energy for a run later in the day.  I’ll see how it goes.

What condition my conditioning is in

What condition my conditioning is in.

Given my conditioning, I’m beginning to think that the best thing to do is to get a Navy Seals video and start getting in some beach time!

I mean, wow!  Four rounds with Lennox Blackmore this morning just about blew out my lungs!

We’re talking “panting” city — meanwhile, we had a LOAD of fun, and when I wasn’t gasping for air, I actually managed a few moves.  The great thing about the experience was Len’s patience in showing me ways to GET OUT OF THE WAY — as in when to slip and when to block to set up my next flurry of punches.  It reminds me of what a great counter-puncher he is, and like the great game of chess, everything in boxing is about setting things up for what you plan to do several moves ahead.

Having not been in the ring for a while, I found myself stymied by some of what Len was doing. The good part was I have actually been learning a thing or two and so I had crisper more accurate punches that actually followed form — when I wasn’t abjectly staying out-of-the-way to catch my breath!

Oh well — it just means I’ve got to get on the CARDIO train and step it up several notches if I hope to have a prayer in the ring.

Meanwhile, I did manage a couple of rounds of shadow boxing, three on the double-ended bag, four on the speed bag and four rounds of slow sit-ups on the funky old Gleason’s sit-up chair before heading on up the Washington Street hill for home.

It made for a great morning and the kind of day when I all I could do was smile!

Blessings where we can get ‘em!

Blessings where we can get ‘em!

Gleason's Gym 4/30/2011

I know I sometimes get a little bit cranky and complain-y on these pages, but after a morning like this one where the work of the gym was hard, but fell into place, let me tell you all I AM BLESSED.

The workout out itself had ragged moments because despite coming at this hard once a week since January, my conditioning is still not where it should be.  Working with Len on the pads, and then having him coach me through some double-ended bag work focusing on the right hook put it all into place.

So, yes, I did get to a near-on physical s-t-o-p on the 4th round of pads, but still managed my sweet 16 feeling strong, confident, and as if I’d come away with something I hadn’t had at the start of it.

Plus … I was surrounded by an amazing group of women going through their third day of Gleason’s Gym’s first Female Boxing Clinic …

And if that wasn’t enough, Lennox feels I’ve come along enough for us to start sparring again beginning next week!  Yay!  We’re talking cloud 9 here people — and as the song says, “I’ve got sunshine on a cloudy day”!

Oh and a big P.S. – If you can make it … come on down to Gleason’s First All-Female Amateur Fight Card 2night!  The bouts begin at 6:00 PM, @ 77 Front Street in Dumbo (Brooklyn).  You can also catch the bouts on www.golivetv.com with Gleason’s own Sonya Lamonakis providing the commentary! $20 bucks @ the door, $15 for gym members or for folks with a boxing card.