The Glowing Edge – Page 3 – Boxing. Rock. Laundry

The Glowing Edge

How Ah Became a Movie Stah

Marilyn, move your (admittedly gorgeous) ass over. Some of the rest of us wanna play, too.

Y’all, I had my first “real” author photos shot recently, and I’m feeling the need to step outside in my flowy white dress and find a street vent to stand over. But only if Jessica Arden Blakely is there to pose, light, and capture the photos. That woman is a photographic magician-genius, and I hereby proclaim myself her Number One Fan. Only not in a creepy Annie Wilkes way, you know.

I emphatically do not love the camera. Oh, I fake it, that’s pretty much required, but I don’t love it. I barely tolerate it, and that’s only because I do love having a visual journal of the amazing life I’ve been privileged to be a part of. But whenever I see myself in photos, I’m like, ugh. Me. Sigh.

For this particular photo shoot I had decided to… dum, dum, dummm: wear makeup. Another weird cultural practice I’m not familiar with. I mean, I have some — after all it comes in the most clever and curious packages! — but I rarely use it. I’m a “blush is enough” (and only on date night) (assuming I remember) kind of gal. I love makeup, just never learned to use it.

And of course, I work from home; I don’t know which “smokey eye palette” goes with “no pants.”

The nerd glasses make me smarter.

But for this shoot, I did it. It was a two-prong offensive (can we use fight metaphors? Because I find that helps.). First I asked my stunning co-author Sonja Foust — who had just had her own portraits shot by Jessica (they’re awesome), and her makeup looked fab. In fact, it regularly looks fab on her video channel.

So first, she sent me some self-help YouTube links to review (this one, this one, and this one) and second, she told me to go get a makeover.

After I carefully studied her links, my first reaction was: zOMG do I get to wear false eyelashes? Like, I had visions of Katy Perry and Jennifer Lopez (not Kim Kardashian; hers looks like Mr. Snuffleupagus’s), and yo, they come in colors, don’t they? This could be fun. Except for the excruciating pain of repeatedly poking myself in the eye and the high probability of super-glueing my eyelids shut. But hey.

Sonja nixed the falsies.

The makeover, however, she encouraged. So despite my terror of ending up looking like Cyndi Lauper in the 80s, I went to Ulta and sat myself bravely in The Dreaded Makeover Chair. And after some very polite questions — “Do you actually want your eyebrows that shape?” — I got waxed, primed, and wholly beautified. And spent a fortune, bitches; damn that shit’s expensive. But, all thanks be to Liza Minelli (I’m SO fixated on the eyelashes!) and Joan Collins (see what I mean?), it was worth it.

I mean, I went home immediately and washed every smidgen of it off. The newly-waxed eyebrow shape remained, of course. But then I carefully re-did it all, in my own version. And it was… okay! In fact, I kinda…sorta… Yep, I definitely liked it.

So after a paranoid Skype with Jessica, who would be photographing me IN MAKEUP, I was down to figuring out wardrobe. This was to be a real live photo session, y’all, not just some kinda snapshot one-off and done.

So I chose my “wardrobe.” And what can I say; black does it for me. Actually, gray does it for me too. Would you believe I actually own 9 plain black shirts (and 7 gray ones)? Most of them are identical. But c’mon, I’m not a total fashion loss — I have a sparkly tank top that’s sort of…gray and black. With little bits of um, some other color, I forget which.

Me in the sparkly tank at the abandoned warehouse.

Black shirt and jeans, check.

Black and gray and something tank, check.

When Jessica got to my house (dawg, she comes to your freakin’ house) — which I had frantically vacuumed — she calmly approved my “wardrobe” and started looking around and nodding. She told me the house would work great, there were several spots to shoot in, and we were off and running.

I’m sure she took photos of my dumbass “pose for the camera” smile, but she also repeatedly helped me to relax, and took photos when I wasn’t freaking out, and cracked jokes, and promised me everything was looking fabulous. She told me how to sit, where to stand, when to look where, and get this…

We even drove up the street to the abandoned salvage store and shot a few photos there. Kewl, no?

The whole thing took just over an hour and a week later I received a link with 25 amazing portraits. I barely recognize myself. And I’m thrilled. Now I have shots for my books, my websites and client work, my LinkedIn, and all the fun places I want to put a bio picture, too. I feel so totally legit.

Need portraits?

Want a zillion self-esteem points?

Call Jessica Arden Blakely.

May 22, 2013
How Many Rounds Does it Take to Shake Off Ring Rust?
I lost my most consistent sparring partner to 6 months of overseas travel this year, and while I got rounds here and there when I could, there’s nothing like sparring two days a week, every week, to keep you in boxing shape. NO amount of conditioning (running, weights, etc.) can make up for straight-up ring time.

So I was looking pretty sorry when she finally got back to the States, and was thankful (in a sick and twisted way) that Yvonne had not been sparring every week while she was gone, keeping in ring shape while I wasted away.

A tiny bit of good news, if you’ve been out of the ring…

Minor segue: I’m pretty sure boxing is at least a little bit like riding a bike. If you’ve been doing it a while, then you are out for a few years, it’s not nearly as difficult getting back in the ring as it would be if you were stepping into the sport for the very first time. Some stuff sticks with you. This is pure speculation on my part, but it’s 100% true, hah.

Anyway, when Yvonne and I got back to the gym together after half a year, we were eager to test out our sparring.

How sparring looks, after several months out

One word: ragged.

Okay, more words: rusty, sloppy, wild, uncontrolled, messy.

Since I have weight on Yvonne, it’s particularly important for me to control my punches during our sessions, although having been a pro fighter for more than a decade, she can certainly take a punch. But if I’m doing good work, she shouldn’t have to feel all of it.

Sigh. It was ugly. I couldn’t control my shots, wasn’t relaxed, and felt cardboard-y and frustrated. Intensely happy to be back to regular sparring, but annoyed at how ugly my work was.

We slogged through the rounds anyway, knowing that the only way through the slop was… through the slop.

Set your round goal and start low

My goal was to get five rounds of good sparring every time I got in the ring, no matter what. So on our first day back the two of us set the round timer to 2-minute rounds with 30-second rests.

We wheezed and groaned our way through and were damned happy to quit. Who knew two minutes could be so excruciatingly long?

Well, we did. And we had suspected as much.

Other things that help

Other than having an experienced, trustworthy sparring partner, there’s not a damn thing that truly helps, that first time back sparring. Maybe not the first two times. But I found that one thing that did start helping was moving back to some basics.

After getting in the first time, I decided I needed to work in three places:
- Keeping my feet moving
- Punching in combinations (rather than one or two shots at a time)
- Slipping
Sounds basic, no?

Keeping your feet moving has to do with conditioning, and this kind only comes with training with sprints, agility dots and ladder drills, and, well…sparring. So I started doing some dot exercises when I could, and adding intervals on the bike during non-boxing days.

For me, punching in combos comes back in when I practice in slow motion. Which NO ONE wants to do in the gym, because you feel like an utter ass when you’re doing it. But I tried to slow down during shadowboxing and think/move my way through combos, rather than delivering one or two punches at a time.

This actually helps with slipping, too, because if you throw a one (jab), followed by a power two, you’re in position and weighted to throw a hook. You’re already shifted to the side. Voila, slip.

In fact many of your shots go from one side of your body to the other in a rocking rhythm, and the boxing becomes a kind of (in my case, sort of ungainly) dancing.

The problem for me with slipping is simply that Yvonne’s shots are very (very) fast. She punches faster than I can see or anticipate. BUT, when you have this situation, you slip anyway, and sometimes you deflect the blow slightly, which is still a positive outcome.

The magic moment

After our first time sparring, we moved back to three-minute rounds (holy shit that was grueling). We sweated and struggled our way through a total of 20 solid (and by “solid” I mean we worked our asses off) rounds.

And on our fifth time back — round 21 was suddenly golden. We floated through our five that day like dandelion seeds on the wind. Violent and mean-ass dandelion seeds, dammit!

We both marveled at the difference. For me, it was primarily about feeling relaxed. I was relaxed, loose, and comfortable in the ring. It was awesome.

20 rounds, Jack. It took us 20 to get back.

That’s just four sparring days, y’all. That is do-able. So next time you’re feeling all “there’s no way I can get back in the ring,” remember that it may only take you about 20 rounds to get to golden.

Warning

After our golden-rounds-with-badass-mermaids-singing session, we were sparring for the first time with our team again, in front of our coach.

It was a mix of clunky and golden. I was more tense, trying harder to please, and working more rounds, too. So it wasn’t all roses, but I was intensely thankful that Coach Massey hadn’t seen me for the first 20 rounds.

Now you

Everybody has seasons out of their sport. Leave me a comment below and tell me how long it took you to shake off the rust and get back in the golden groove. What tricks did you use? Were there any shortcuts? Did you have any “ah-ha” or “oh-fuck-no” moments? Spill.

Photo Credit: Marco Crupi Visual Artist via Compfight cc
May 1, 2013
Top Advice for Boxing Over 40

1. No, it’s not a young man’s sport.

It’s not even a young person’s sport. This sport is for the ones who want it, who are willing to work their asses off to advance in it, and who are able to take the hits and dish out a few of their own. Boxing belongs to you. You dominating the ring is acting your age.

2. You have passion. That’s sexy.

Listen, we spent enough years pussy-footing around the world, asking everyone for permission to try things we were curious about or to unlock doors we wanted through. Now you’re the bouncer at the club of your own future. Hell, you’re the bouncer and the show. That’s hot. That’s damned hot.

3. Figure out your limits. Then bust through them.

One thing boxers have in spades is patience. Nobody learns to box in 10 minutes. Or 10 months. When you’re over 40, you have perspective, and by gawd you’re willing to claw your way to the level of fight performance you want, no matter how long it takes. Let the kids get discouraged. Let them come and go. We’re still here. We’ve seen problems and overcome them. We’re sneaky as well as badass. Be warned.

4. You’re older and smarter, so adapt things you need to adapt.

Physical limitations don’t faze boxers. I don’t do bear crawls anymore — you know why? Because they wreck my shoulders, and I need my shoulders for the ring. There is no shortage of types of exercise. If it takes me out, I don’t do it. If it keeps me in, I’m on it. And that’s all the justification I need, sucka.

5. Give yourself the recovery time you need.

Truth is you’d have more aches and pains if you didn’t box. That’s why other people take prescription painkillers rather than just aspirin. God invented aspirin (and icepacks) so that we could go on boxing. But we also know how to work hard, then let our bodies recover. Boxers know that muscles build during recovery.

6. The turkeys will flap. Let ’em flap.

E’erbody got something negative to say about boxing. We’re listening, until we’re not. Then we’re boxing.

7. Eat clean. Fuel your sport.

When you were 28, you could eat like Honey Boo Boo, drink like a college freshman, and still go out and run a 10k the next day. You still can! But the difference is that now your performance suffers. The other night I came home and found my husband in bed with vegetables. Dayum, that was sexy. Other people can eat powdered donuts in bed; their sport is laying around watching television. Veggies make for great…performance.

Photo Credit: More Drews than you. via Compfight cc

April 24, 2013
How to Lose or Quit Your Job and Become a Badass Writer

My compadre in badassery Sonja made me take out most of the all-caps words for this new little book of ours, but it’s still undeniably loud, rude, and strewn with inappropriate and deliciously fun tips, tricks, anecdotes, and EVEN some powerful real-life pointers. If you’re thinking of becoming a writer, and you’re not scared of having a little fun along the way, you must read this book!

It’s FREE (just for a day or two, then $2.99, woah!)

And as of the time of this posting, it’s free! That won’t last, so click over and gobble up some yummy chocolate-and-whiskey-flavored pixels now!

And it also includes…

You’ll hear her tearful tale of woe and wonder, and I’ll tell a bit of my own story, which includes spreadsheets, sharks, and unicorns. Sadly, we forgot to include more cowbell, but wait! You’ll receive not one but two, two check sheets for capturing your own whiskey-pissing dream unicorn AND (spoiler!) yet another limerick. Maybe even two.

I promise not to include any more limericks in future books. Unless you just want more. Let me know. I’ll pander to anyone.

We hope you’ll leave us a review!

And we both know it’s a monstrous pain in the patootie, but if you would be willing to write us a review on Amazon, we promise to send you a virtual karmic whiskey-scented massage and some heavy (but entirely pleasant) vibrations of intense and slightly drunken happiness.

Like this… (You people ROCK our world)

Just finished this ebook and was actually guffawing into my morning tea and toast. (And it’s research AND I still have time to write this morning.) As a writer (note how I said that, ladies)…working on my first textbook, I found this book hilariously on point with the process, not to mention downright practical. But not just for writers! If you have ANY project or goal that you wish to reflect your core beliefs on how to get more out of your dreams, this book is worth checking out. Peppered, ok–littered– with irreverent slang and saucy language, you’ll imagine yourself at a girl’s night out with free-flowing wine as you read this. (At least that’s how my book club runs, doesn’t yours?) Or maybe you’ll just feel that one of these girls is actually your best high school girlfriend and MAN, are you glad she’s still in your life. READ!

— Crystal Robbins

Snif. I just love Crystal, and ALL OF YOU ROCKSTARS who left us amazeballs reviews on our first book, Bagels, Dirty Limericks, and Martinis: The Badass Guide to Writing Your First Book.

Next up: Publish Like a Bona Fide Badass + TREAT

We hope to release Book Three, on Publishing, in the Badass series next month, and even before then, we’ll have a special little TREAT that you’ll only be able to get by hopping over to our website at BadassWriting.com (hint: it’s a free book, and you LOVE free books) and getting on our email list.

I PROMISE YOU we aren’t sending many emails over there (too much work, and we’re basically lazy-asses); just letting you know when we publish something new. The TREAT will be available in the next week or so, but you gotta be on the list to get it!

And even MOAR…

We have books on marketing your book, editing, and blogging coming later this year! Why? Because we like you. If you work it juuuuuust right, you can replace the M-I-C with B-A-D… K-E-Y with A-S-S… Then you have to kind of squish in W-R-I-T-I-N-G. But it works. We made it work, anyway. Of course, we were drinking. (But only one of us filmed ourselves drinking, heh.)

Now go get your Whiskey-Pissing Unicorn badassery without delay!

April 19, 2013
How to Get Back Into Training

We played flu dominoes at my house. First my youngest son, then the middle son, now me. I wrote down a bunch of my whines about it here, then deleted them because they were so onerous. Having the flu sucks.

And type A that I am, I’ve spend a fair amount of my laying-miserably-on-the-couch time thinking about how hard it’s going to be to get back in the gym, how intensely difficult it is in general to come back after a period of inactivity.

How fast do you get out of shape?

I’ve read and heard lots of conflicting opinions on this. Some say that you have to be out for two months before you lose your conditioning. My guess is that they mean ALL your conditioning, because I feel a significant reduction of fitness in two weeks (or less).

Maybe I’m wrong, but getting in shape feels like climbing a mountain, and if you’re only halfway up, you’ll get back down to the bottom faster than if you’re standing on the summit. Just my non-scientific view.

And I always thought everyone slides down the mountain at about the same rate, but this old article in the Chicago Tribune says veteran exercisers lose their fitness level at a slower rate. (See, I tried to do at least a little research.) Thank the good baby Elvis something’s working in my favor here.

First the lungs…

Fewer mitochondria means less oxygen to your muscles, and the longer you’re out of the game, the faster your mitochondria count plummets. How to build more mitochondria? Err, aerobic exercise. Dammit.

Then the muscle…

I barely have the power to shove my 6 pound dog Rocky out of my way so I can shift positions on the couch. Ugh. And according to this guy, you not only start losing muscle fibers when you’re out of your workouts, but your slow- and fast-twitch muscle fibers freaking convert to “couch potato” muscle types. I’m screwed.

So what’s the plan, Stan?

Life is no fun without spreadsheets. So I have one, even if it only exists in my mind. I’m planning my return to boxing, you better believe it. How do people NOT box? Life is no fun with out boxing. Spreadsheets and boxing. And little dogs. But I digress…

Truly, I do have a plan. It’s a four-point plan, which is easy enough for my fatigued brain to hang on to. Here ’tis. (more…)

April 12, 2013
The Badass Guide to Writing Your First Book

Are you ready for the first non-boxing post I’ve written in a while? I LOVE having a blog where I can do any damn thing I want to, y’all. And the bad-a-licious news is that the first book with my evil twin Sonja Foust, “Bagels, Dirty Limericks, and Martinis: The Badass Guide to Writing Your First Book” is LIVE and available on Amazon. I almost said it’s “finally” live, but the little bastard was so fast and easy to write (we did it in less than 40 hours of time each, start to finish) that “finally” doesn’t really apply.

Three in a row, you win the giant plush martini!

Now that I’ve written that subhead, I’m wondering just how flexible Cafe Press might be… But what I was going to say is that Sonja and I started writing the first Badass Guide in January on a whim, and damned if it didn’t just come right together like a group of hungry monkeys over a pile of raisins. It happened so fast we had trouble slowing down, and two more books are also finished and in the editing stages. You can take a look at those two over at the site we whipped together called Badass Writing.

While you’re over there, sign up and we’ll ping you when the next ones come out (expected publication dates of April and May, 2013). We’ll let you know when they are FREE FREE FREE, (more…)

April 4, 2013
Sparring Lesson: Use ANYthing You Have

Our gym currently has not one, but two coaches with injuries. Both injuries mean they can’t use their power right, at all. Not even a little bit.

Interestingly, on sparring night both of them were in the ring with only one glove. Sinclair can’t even get a glove on his right, it’s so swollen, and Sam could have gloved (his injury was to his shoulder), but didn’t. But they still confidently put on one glove and started moving everyone toward ringtime.

Since we had a gym full of young, messy fighters, I had been expecting to get more work than usual with my two gloves. And while I did work with several different boxers in our gym, I was reminded of a few things I hadn’t thought of in a while, and I also learned something I wasn’t expecting at all. (more…)

March 27, 2013
What Makes Sparring with New Boxers Really Good, or Really Awful
Thursday night is sparring night in our gym. Not everyone gets to spar; only the boxers who have been showing up regularly, putting in hard work, listening to the coach, and proving that they want to move up are invited into the ring.

But all that doesn’t guarantee a good sparring performance. I’m always fascinated about the ways our coach, Willie “One Bad Jab” Massey subtly rewards the boxers who give him what he’s looking for…

Last night there was a huge crowd; it seems like boxers come in waves to the program at Second Round, and we seem to be in the midst of a heavy influx. I counted four young women (ages 12 to 17, I’d guess), which is fairly unusual; and we don’t have a high retention rate for females.

So I was surprised when it came time for sparring, when Coach Massey pulled about 6 guys (all of whom I’d seen in the ring before)…and a young woman from the crowd.

Our gym typically spars the youngest or newest fighters first, and since the young woman was new, the coach didn’t put her in headgear, just gloved her up and put her in to work offense only with me. I noticed that two of the other girls pushed up through the crowd of guys to watch at the ring side.

Good: A straight, clean jab to the face (and body)

She had a completely respectable jab. It was straight, fully extended, and powerful. But even though we are about the same height, her first shots were aimed at my gloves and shoulders. “Punch to my face,” I told her over my mouthpiece, and she raised her eyebrows, hesitated a moment, then fired an easy one. I turned it neatly in the palm of my glove and nodded. “Yep,” I said, “Again.”

As she began to realize I could avoid all her punches, she gained confidence. Punches began to smack as I turned each one, and a few didn’t make any sound when I began to add slips to my defense.

Good: Throwing shots with varied timing, doubles

She started out a bit predictable, her shots coming at me as if they were being fired by the second hand on a clock, but again, once I told her to vary her timing, she immediately adapted, which gave me a rush of satisfaction.

And she didn’t immediately forget, either. I saw the coach starting to notice her from the side of the ring. “Double the jab,” he said, and after a few tries, she delivered. The tendency, when you’re new, is to not know that you have to bring the jab back to your face before shooting again — you try to throw once, tap twice, and it doesn’t work for a beginner. She fumbled the first few, but then got a double going.

Good: Finding and maintaining the right range

I realized she could do more, and I began to add footwork to my defense. She was a bit too squared up (most new boxers are), but I began to pivot and shift, forcing her to come to me to land her shots.

The first step in starting to move around the ring with a sparring partner is learning how much room you need to land a shot on your opponent. Some shots fall short, some are smothered (if your opponent drives in); you have to find just the right range and work it. She had a pretty decent sense of range for a beginner, and I could tell more would come quickly.

Once I turned on a little footwork gas, she ended up doing a fair amount of chasing me around the ring, but learning to “cut off the ring” will come later as well. She had basics, and she had…

Good: Sufficient cardio for at least 1-2 rounds in a row

It’s not at all unusual to think you have enough gas for a single round of boxing, and be dead wrong. Boxing demands anaerobic capacity, which is only developed with sprint training. That might be running sprints, but it can also be sprints flipping a tire, or doing kettlebells, hill cycling, or any exercise where you can get to your max heart rate and go for 2 or 3 minutes, then recover in 30 seconds and go again.

This young woman stuck it out for two rounds before rolling out, and I think she had another one in her. Of course, being on offense only is a bit easier, but even so, her ability to work until the bell sounded was reassuring.

I’ll look forward to seeing her back in the ring again, and I’ll hope that the other new girls will learn from her example.

After she and I did a couple of rounds, and I worked a few more with two other boxers, I rolled out and let a couple of brawlers in.

Awful: Brawling

There are so many reasons why we decide to roll under the ropes, and ego is often a part of it. But mix ego with bad technique (or no technique), and you typically end up with a brawl. We don’t always have two brawlers in the ring, but just one is enough to make a mess of the round.

And the unfortunate truth is that the brawler often won’t listen to instruction, which means our coach probably won’t waste much energy trying to teach him. Which is a shame, because that leaves the brawler in the same low position in the gym and ring, not improving his boxing.

Here’s what you typically see in a brawler:
- Superman-style punch launches, where both feet come off the ground
- Off-balance fighting, sometimes falling to the canvas
- Illegal shots to the back of the head
- Lengthy clinching, sometimes with with knees thrown
- Sloppy, slappy shots with wide, windmilling arms
Sometimes you get profanity too, when a brawler feels he can’t get the better of someone. We don’t hear too much of that at my gym because Coach Massey will shut down the offenders pretty quickly, and he’s not prone to let them box again if they can’t control themselves.

I don’t often get in with beginner brawlers, and prefer instead to let the big, experienced boxers take them on. But you don’t always have that, so sometimes you just end up with a mess. And, it’s there in pretty much every boxing gym you’ll ever be a part of.

Interestingly, there ARE great boxers who are good at what they call brawling. But you’ll not see the messy stuff in the list above in their style. Instead, you’ll simply see an agressive, powerful, sometimes non-technical match — it can be incredibly exciting to watch.

What about you?

What do you see in your gym? Leave me a comment and tell me about what it was like when you started, or boxers and brawlers you’ve seen in the ring…

Image: Marco Crupi, cc
March 11, 2013
Widening the Doors for Fighting Women: Interview with Sylvie von Duuglas-Ittu

Sylvie von Duuglas-Ittu’s fight power just keeps growing.

And I don’t simply mean in the Muay Thai ring, although that’s true too, since she’s had 35 fights (hurry, that number’s about to change) and she’s aiming for a hundred.

Most recently I’ve been captivated by the way she’s told the story of being invited to Isaan, which is not far from Chiang Mai where she’s been living and training for the past 10 months, for her most recent fight, which was televised in Thailand.

But her real dream is far bigger than one hundred fights, and she’s reaching it even faster than she expected…

Sylvie, who is 29 and has been training in Muay Thai for the past 5 years, slowed down just enough recently to answer some interview questions about her fighting life.

Share a bit about your fight sport beginnings.

I’d never much thought about fighting sports. We didn’t watch them in my household growing up and my only exposure to Martial Arts was Van Damme movies and maybe the occasional Bruce Lee marathon on TV that I barely paid attention to. In college I took kickboxing as a physical education credit but that was pretty much freestyle punching and some kicking on a WaveMaster without much technical guidance.

When I moved in with Kevin, who would become my husband, he had me sit through a million Kung Fu movies until I couldn’t take any more. (I have since developed an appreciation for them.) So he convinced me to watch one more, the movie “Ong Bak” with Tony Jaa and that was it for me. I guess my first exposure to Muay Thai was actually more Muay Boran, but I loved the movements and decided I wanted to learn it. Once I met Master K, who would become my mentor and a part of my family, my love for the art of Muay Thai just kept growing.

What sort of responses did you encounter when you first started training?

My husband has always been incredibly supportive and has pushed me to do more, involve myself more, and take greater risks. I’m very grateful to have him on my side, in my corner and in my heart. My family, not being familiar with Muay Thai or combat sports in general, were not really “into it” although they have been supportive. After my parents came out for a visit and sat in on one of my sessions with Master K they started to get excited about my training and fighting – they “got” my relationship and inspiration from Master K and they actually came to one of my fights a couple of years later, which my dad really loved. Two of my brothers were at my very first fight and the one who didn’t make that first fight was at my first fight back in the States after my first trip to Thailand.

Other than my family, I didn’t talk about it much to anyone. Nobody at work knew until I started showing up with black eyes.

How did you decide to train in Thailand and what new dreams have you found since going?

(Sylvie filmed a video, during a break on a morning training run, to answer these two questions. She routinely posts these beautiful updates, which showcase the lovely Chiang Mai in the background, on her blog, 8Limbs.us. — Lisa)

What does your daily routine look like?

I wake up about 6:15 am, and get to the gym by 6:30 am. I drop off my equipment bag then hit the road for a 5k, 8k, or 11k run (most days are 5k). When I get back I do 200 knees on the bag, wrap my hands and begin shadowboxing for 5 rounds. I usually get called into the ring for 5 rounds of padwork, then do 5 rounds of bag work and finish with conditioning (push ups, pull ups, sit ups).

In the afternoon I might have a boxing lesson with Neung or do an hour of work in the ring (a mix between sparring and padwork) in with my husband. In either case it’s 60 minutes.

Afternoon training begins at 4:00 pm with another 5k run followed by 10-20 minutes of skipping rope. It’s the same routine that I do in the morning, but I add in sparring or clinch, and drills on the bag in addition to bag work, and more conditioning.

How are you different from the other fighters in Thailand?

I’m different because I’m not Thai (which most fighters in Thailand are) and because I’m a woman. In addition, female Thai fighters are rarely full-time fighters. It’s harder for women to contract with gyms in order for this to be a full-time job for them, so they’re also students or have jobs outside of fighting.

I’m smaller than most westerners who fight in Thailand, I’m older than most Thai and western fighters, and I workmuch harder than both the westerners and the Thai boys at my gym, and I fight more often.

But I’m diligent in training. I show up every day, train hard every day, listen to my coaches and do what I’m asked or told, I sleep well, eat well and fight as often as I can, all of which are seen as respect-worthy qualities in any serious fighter. So I think my trainers see me as a good fighter (worker) in that respect, rather than noting all my differences.

Do you feel accepted and welcomed into the fight circuit? Have you encountered prejudices as a woman or an outsider?

I’m an odd egg everywhere I go. In the States I didn’t belong to a gym, so I didn’t really have a built-in support system that fighters who come from gyms enjoy and definitely benefit from. There’s an automatic “insider/outsider” method to treating people when you come up against a gym that has this support network and I don’t think folks on the inside even realize how heavily they draw those lines.

I was welcomed in the States to the fight circuit becuase I wanted to fight, but productions on the East Coast (and many other places, but that’s mainly where I fought) are promoted and put on by gyms, so there’s a distinct “inside/outside” mentality built into the program.

Women have an uphill climb in fighting anywhere in the world – we like to think we’re really progressive in the west and promoters are definitely starting to showcase female fights more now than before, but there are still difficulties and prejudices against female fighters.

In Thailand there are prejudices toward women in the ways that fights are produced. We have shorter rounds, we have to enter the ring in a purposefully demeaning manner, we don’t have access to big stadiums and even less access to televised events and promotions that men get simply by being men, not because they merit it.

But I’ve felt very welcomed as a fighter by the promotions and promoters I’ve worked with here in Thailand. They’re interested in having me fight as often as I want and my being unusual sells tickets, so it’s embraced in a nice way.

Talk to us some about how what you’re doing now relates to life. Are there “transferable principles”?

There are a lot of transferable principals between training/fighting and life, especially when training and fighting is one’s lifestyle.

Mostly I’ve learned from my experiences that you have to work really hard for the kinds of dreams our hearts dare us to dream, and that in many cases when you’re in danger or against great odds the safest move is a step forward, even though we are inclined to back away.

Courage isn’t an inborn trait, it has to be practiced in order to become a strength and that’s both in and out of the ring – you must practice it all the time.

Any advice for people interested in following in your footsteps? Or for people thinking of taking up a fight sport?

You’re always stronger than you think you are, whether that means getting in the ring or getting in the car to get to practice. If you dream of something big, like moving to another country to pursue a full-time fight career or just trying an amateur fight once to see if you like it (or even just try sparring), then you are absolutely entitled to that dream.

There are countless names we give to the things which make dreams seem impossible — responsibilities and financial obstacles, for example — which are absolutely real, but they are only truly limiting if we allow them to be. The thing that makes a dream possible or impossible is your belief in it.

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Even more…

You can follow Sylvie’s blog at 8Limbs.us and find her on Facebook as well. I hope you’ll leave her a comment, cheer, or question below; she’s great about responding when she can grab a moment between fights!

Top image credit: Jérémy Pilain on R-Awakening.com; the others are Sylvie’s.

February 13, 2013
10 Frequently Asked Questions About Boxing After 40
Is it safe to box in your forties? Are you likely to be injured? Should you even consider boxing if you have small children at home?

That’s me, still boxing at 47.

I started boxing at 42, I have a husband and three kids at home, and looking back, I’m slightly amazed that I never had these questions back when I started. But in those days I had other, more pressing issues. I’d never done anything like boxing (or anything else) for myself before. I was miserable and depressed. I didn’t think my marriage was going to survive. I frankly didn’t care what happened in the ring; I was just blindly hoping for something to relieve the darkness.

Boxing pulled me out of the abyss, and taught me how to fight for myself and the things I wanted.

And as I grew more proficient in boxing (and life) and started to spar regularly, people began to pose these questions to me.

They’re good questions from people who mean well, and some of them come from people who are not (or haven’t been) boxers themselves. But they ALSO come from boxers, like the awesome Glowing Edge reader who sent this email (I’ve edited it slightly):

I started MMA and kickboxing a year ago when I was 40. Been largely enjoying it and making good progress. I spar and grapple so it’s not pure ring work and punching but I do a fair share of boxing and boxing training.

I’ve definitely been tagged a few times. Nothing knee wobbling and no concussions but stunned a few times and a swollen nose once. And I can give it right back.

So, I’m not really scared about getting tagged, but after training I have a lot of thoughts, like, I’m 41 years old. I have small children at home. Do I need to be getting hit in the head at all? With all of the stuff in the news about concussions/suicide/etc. is even this very modest amount of boxing a risk? I need my brain at this point more than my fists. I talked to my doctor and she said she isn’t too worried if I’m not doing frequent, full contact boxing but I thought I’d see what your thoughts are.

I don’t see myself competing in the future unless it’s in jiu jitsu where you can compete as a “senior.” However, I like to put the skills I have into practice. I’m in the best shape and the least stressed out I’ve ever been so I’m hesitant to limit myself to just the bag but I also want to be smart.

First of all, how fantastic to hear about someone taking up a fight sport and getting in such great shape. And clearly doing well and enjoying themselves! Also, he got checked out by a doctor, who gave him a reasonably cautious but optimistic go-ahead (I’ll talk about frequency of sparring below). That’s win #2, because not all doctors will genuinely support someone who boxes; some are very frowny-scowly. And finally, the good news is that it IS possible to compete in a “senior” division in boxing, just like in jiu jitsu. See below…

I’ll get there, I promise! But let me see if I can answer a few of the most frequently asked questions first.

1. Can you box in your 40s?

Sure you can. Plenty of us do. You can even compete in boxing in your 40s on an official amateur or a professional level.

Even if you don’t get in the ring for sparring or competition, you can get a phenomenal all-body workout with boxing and get into the best shape of your entire life. But you probably already knew this. I think the real question comes next.

2. Do you have to get hit in boxing, or can you box without that?

You CAN box with NO body contact.

You will hit things, but you don’t have to BE hit. You can do all the fitness training that goes with boxing, even hitting the heavy bag, speed bag, and mitts, without ever getting punched in the face (or body) at all. For people who have concerns about safety, there you go. Non-contact boxing is going to be the safest path for you.

3. Are you going to get injured if you box?

Boxing is like any sport; you can, and probably will sustain some sort of minor injuries.

All of my non-contact boxing injuries were the kind I could have gotten simply going to a gym to work out. Beyond the normal aches and pains, the torn rotator cuff (which I got doing unassisted pull-ups, and I don’t do those any more) was the worst.

Cesar Hernandez and Jose Santiago, both fighting over 40.

If you do spar or compete, you may get a black eye, or a bloody nose. The more serious injuries tend to happen to new boxers who are not as skilled and a lot more scared than an experienced boxer.

My worst injury in the ring was as a newbie — I got a broken rib, and that bastard hurt. Took me about 3 months to get over that one, but I haven’t been seriously injured since.

So. Minor shit, yeah. Big stuff? No. And I try to spar about once a week, and compete every year.

4. What about hard punches to the face and head? Aren’t they dangerous?

They certainly can be. That’s why boxers (at any age)
And yes, there are lots of conversations in the media (even from President Obama, at this year’s Superbowl) and among scientists and pension boards about whether or not repeated concussions from boxing, football, and soccer are causing dementia, Parkinson’s, and a host of other problems. MMA head injuries are under the media microscope as well. All of those should be considered by someone who wants to get in the ring.

Have I thought about all this? Of course. But I also work pretty hard to mitigate the risks. And I haven’t been doing this since I was a teenager, so I’m not going to have the same number of years of it piling up like a young fighter might.

5. But professional boxers don’t wear headgear during their fights…

That’s true, and pro boxing definitely takes a harder toll on the body than amateur boxing, which requires competitors to wear headgear.

However, pro boxers don’t spend the majority of their time fighting at full power without headgear.

They spend MOST of their time training, lifting weights, doing intervals, and working the bags and mitts like everyone else. They spar more when getting ready for a fight, but even so, they don’t go out every single week (like football players do) and put themselves into the highest risk situations. They might fight a few times per year, even as many as 10 times a year in the elite circles. But the majority of boxers aren’t doing that.

6. Is boxing worse for injuries than other sports?

I might put competitive fighting (including MMA and all of the martial arts) in the top 10 of most dangerous sports, along with football, soccer, rugby, and cheerleading, but I don’t have any kind of science or data behind that.

But what about base jumping, free climbing, bull riding, motocross, pro surfing, scuba diving, street luge, BMX riding, heli-skiing, hockey, lacrosse, mountaineering, NASCAR, and other dangerous sports?

I do know that you can be mildly or devastatingly injured in any sport. You can build up cumulative damage over a period of years in any sport. It’s worth considering, but I’ve found that boxing is also worth doing.

7. Is it irresponsible to box if you have kids at home who need you?

Before I started boxing, my three sons had a mother who did everything for them and nothing for herself, and they had parents with a failing marriage. I don’t know if they knew how unhappy and depressed I was, but I know it’s very different for them now.

Since I started boxing, they’ve learned to do their own laundry, make their own meals, and they are expected to pitch in around the house. They have a mother who is tough and courageous. They have parents with a solid marriage and joy in life.

It’s clear to me which one is the better model.

I understand the people who worry about head injuries. I think that’s a reasonable concern, but I don’t see a lot of that in boxing, except at the long-term professional level.

Boxing teaches you to care for your physical, spiritual, and emotional health. It teaches discipline, respect, and balance. And fight sports are practiced in very controlled arenas, with coaches and teammates and specialized gear.

These all feel like very important life gifts and opportunities to have.

8. Should I let my daughter see her father fighting?

There are other parents who are not sure how they feel about their sons and (particularly) daughters seeing Mom or Dad punching and getting punched in the ring.

I think this is about personal preference, although I can tell you that I wish I’d discovered boxing LONG before I was in my 40s. But I had no idea women even boxed, and I’d certainly never learned anything about the real skills, training, and care that goes into learning to fight.

My sons aren’t particularly interested in boxing (not having grown up with it), but if you ask them they’ll tell you it’s kinda cool that their mom fights. They would be willing to come see me fight (and I’d love to have them), but I usually have to travel and can’t afford for all of us to go.

When people say “But you don’t want your children to see you getting beat up!” I always smile at the assumption that I’m getting “beat up” in the ring. Maybe other people are getting “beat up” by me, I’d love to say, but I know what they mean.

I hit, and I get hit, but I’m also okay. I like my sparring partners: we laugh, groan, grunt, and sweat together. We try to talk over our mouthguards. We get yelled at by our coaches. We work on specific tactics and shots. We nod and acknowledge particularly skilled moves.

Some days I suck, or perform poorly, or am utterly outmatched. Some days I’m teaching and supporting newer fighters. But it’s not typically an atmosphere of anger or ugliness.

I’d be fine with my daughter watching, if I had one.

9. Should I consider competitive boxing if I’m over 40?

USA Boxing, which governs amateur competition in the United States, puts all boxers over the age of 35 into the Masters category. It differs from the younger age groups in that Masters boxers are required to have a few more medical checks, like an EKG every 5 years. And in addition to the normal weight regulations, Masters boxers can not have an official match with anyone who is more than 10 years older or younger than they are.

So of course you can consider competitive boxing if you’re over 40. And for some of us, that’s the first time in our lives we actually do consider it!

10. How many fights can an over-40 boxer expect to get?

There aren’t nearly as many Masters fighters as there are in the under-35 bracket, as you might guess. I haven’t tracked the men, but most years in my state (NC) there have been between one and three registered female Master boxers. I usually know who they are. I’d guess there are at least five or six times that many male Master fighters.

So there aren’t as many opportunities to get matches, but if you have the money and can travel, Gleason’s Gym in NY holds annual Masters tournaments and Ringside also has a Masters tourney every year.

It’s not impossible to get fights in your local area (I’ve done it), but often you have to find and get someone to travel to your location. Corporate boxing groups like Atlanta Corporate Fight Night, are a newer thing in the US, and also offer opportunities for 40 and up boxers.

Coming Next: Best Advice for Over 40 Boxers

When I raised the issue of fighting after 40 on the Facebook page for The Glowing Edge, I got some great responses from boxers about what to think about, ways boxing is different for us, and what factors are the most different. Since this one got a bit long, my next post will cover some of those items, so check back soon.

Meanwhile, I hope you’ll leave a comment below with your own questions and thoughts on the matter! Stay strong and keep swinging…

Image credits — Top: Johnathan Friedan; middle: Eric Langley Photography
February 6, 2013