My trainer and I have been busy hunting leads in order to find me a regional (ie, within a couple hours’ drive) fight.

She really feels strongly that I may be investing too much time and money on a throw of the dice at this year’s Golden Gloves nationals. For example, what if there’s only one other woman in my weight category? Then we have spent time and money for airfare and four days/nights in a hotel but we only get one bout on Saturday night. Or what if there are six of us in my category and the draw pits me against someone with way more experience? Then I get creamed on the first night and again I’m out a heavy financial and time investment (and come home furious). And this tournament would not include anyone else on my team, unlike most tourneys where one trainer takes and supports several boxers.

I’m sure as hell gunning for a fight, and Bonnie’s plan is to help me get several bouts this year. Her goal is to get one by July, and she hopes to get at least three to five for me in the coming year. Bottom line: she wants me to put off Golden Gloves until next year. I’ve decided that I’m willing to trade this year’s GG for some fights within driving distance.

SO. Big change. And yet I’m still getting a fight, which soothes me no end. She wants me to keep working at the same level; keep my diet and workouts on schedule as planned so that I can be fight-ready as soon as we book a match.

Feeling pretty okay about this so far. And I don’t plan to completely ditch the idea of the GG Nationals for this year until I actually have a fight on the books.

Related posts:

1. I Have Another Fight!
2. I Have a Fight, People
3. Flight Fight Sports

image by Vaguely Artistic on Flickr

I have a monster I’d like to keep, but we can’t leave our relationship the way it currently runs.

Witcher rips hell out of everything and leaves the mess for someone else to clean up. She specializes in criticism and she throws her weight around like the mac daddy of an 800 lb gorilla. She looks at the videos or just watches me box and shakes her head at how bad I suck. Her rant runs along the same lines: You can’t move, you hardly throw any punches, your elbows are out, you wind up and still got nothin’, you’re gonna get obliterated when you face a real opponent.

Tiresome, I know. Believe me, I know.

So I have taken a little time to really think about what this monster needs, and I’ve decided she needs to feel her power. She’s a 200-ton diesel locomotive stuck in the body of a bayou airboat. She’s whip smart but doesn’t feel listened to.

So she and I have had to talk, and this is what I said:

Look Wee (I call her Wee like you call a big dude Tiny), you and I need to figure out how to get along. Many of the things you say are true, but I’m going to need every person on the  team here to work with me and not against me. You ass is gonna be kicked right alongside mine, so I vote you 1.) throw your considerable weight in here and see how it helps us. And frankly, you could 2.) relax now and then. It would be great if you could have a double vodka before you review the latest tapes, that might help. And 3.) take the long view: I’m working my butt off, something’s gotta change eventually, right?

Honestly, Witcher? I kinda like you. I can be pretty critical myself — maybe because I’m driven. But I’m also a little bit neurotic — I take things to heart when I should blow it off like dust on vinyl. So I’ll tell you what would make this a relationship a winner is if you could share your weight and ferocity, and leave off the prophecies of doom. Then we just might rock it.

I’m thinking she’s gonna like the double vodka idea.

Related posts:

1. Four dead people I’d like to meet

I started the day thinking “I can do ANYTHING for 18 minutes.” That’s nine rounds (and only 3 at a time!) in the Golden Gloves.

But my day was a lot longer than 18 minutes. I was under way too much stress, and got out of the Zone. My insulin was all over the place, and my blood pressure was down. I didn’t realize it was happening until I crashed halfway through my workout, which was a pisser because I was prepared to rock it hard.

Workout:
Precor elliptical: 15 min, at/near 75% capacity
Bosu ball crunches: 200 to front (50 with medicine ball), 100 each side
Jump rope: 6 rounds of 2 minutes each, sprinting half of each minute. 30 sec rest between rounds.
[C R A S H -- also mild exercise-induced asthma attack]
Leg extension: 40 lbs, 3 sets of 12 reps
Squats: 100 lbs, 3 sets of 12 reps
Front/side deltoid flys: 5 lbs each hand, 3 sets of 12 reps
Bicep curl bar: 35 lbs, 3 sets of 12 reps
Lat pulldowns: 70 lbs, 3 sets of 10 reps

Evening recovery:
Drink oceans of water, avoid sugars, eat well, rest, ice knee. Read fluffy fiction.
Listen to Cloud Cult

9:00 pm, feeling much better. Some days are like that.

Related posts:

1. Sample Workout
2. Test Yourself
3. Fighting in the Golden Gloves