The Glowing Edge

Tag: balance

  • Trail Running and Effing Ankle Rolls

    Trail Running and Effing Ankle Rolls

    New training tactics, new hazards. Also new curse words. Well, maybe the same old curse words.

    All of it is worth the fabulous experience of running a trail, and with the advent of spring (and no more local gym membership) I’m totally off the treadmill (hallelujah!) and on the trail. I’ve done plenty of paved runs, but this is my first experience with dirt, rocks, roots, pine cones, sweet gum balls, and — believe it or not — sucking, muddy, marvelous wetlands. (Those last are gonna stink this summer, methinks.)

    So I found a nice little two mile out-and-back about a 10 minute drive from my house. It’s the Creekside trail at Yates Mill Pond, and it offers an amazing variety of environments, from deep, quiet loblolly pine woods (those needles are slick, y’all) to a fabulous run through a wetland area where the trail is partly laid with a double line of planks squelching in the mud beneath your shoes. Plenty of turtles dropping off logs with a plop as you pass, and frogs chirruping all around. A sign indicated beaver and fox habitats as well.

    It doesn’t appear to be well-known yet, as the trail is narrow and not so very worn in. This is probably because there’s a paved, stroller-friendly single-mile circuit around the millpond itself, culminating in a lovely view of the spillway and the old mill house. The sign in the cool shade under the millhouse in the muddy area by the dam says “snake sanctuary.” Watch your step there, ladies and gents.

    There’s also a one mile trail running along the ridge above the mill, with some nice elevation and a few twisty turns in the woods; I hiked that one after running the two mile wetland trail.

    And rolling my ankle, dammit.

    This whole “watch out for those tree roots” thing is new to me, and you really can’t get more than 5 steps — hell, 5 inches — on this trail without a gnarled old root under your foot, or a chunk of quartz the size of your fist half-buried in the sand. The gum balls were bad, too. Who knew trail runs could be such an obstacle course? I didn’t. Noob.

    So I’m working on a set of strengthening exercises (see below) and my new pre-run stretches include plenty of ankle circles and a solid reminder to Pay Close Attention At All Times. Trail running is not something you do while turtle watching, or planning your work day, grocery list, or next blog post. Unless that last one is going to be about ankle rolls. Ow.

    New exercise set to prevent ankle rolls:

    1. Balance touches: On a dyna-disk (small squishy rubber thingy, partly filled with air), stand on one foot and reach down and touch your knee or toe with alternating hands.

    2. Balanced weight pass: Still on the dyna-disk, pass a weight from hand to hand over your head.

    3. Four corners: mark the corners of a box (I use chalk or tape, or other markers) about six feet square. Stand in the center and slide out sideways to touch each corner, moving on the diagonal across the box for a 3 minute interval. Start slow and get up to a good, quick speed. Keep your knees bent.

    4. Edge rolls: In a squat position, roll your weight toward your toes, then slowly shift your weight to the outside of both feet, then the heels, then the inside of both feet. You’re rolling your weight around the edges of your feet, slowly, holding the position and getting a good stretch and strengthening those muscles all around your ankles.

    My ankle roll was painful and swear-worthy, but it didn’t keep me from finishing the run. I took some ibuprofen that day and was ready for an gentle 3-miler (paved, for recovery purposes) on the second day post-roll.

    I’ve already scoped out a new trail I want to run, too.

    Image by lulumon athletica on Flickr.

  • How to Know If Your Boxing Is Improving

    How to Know If Your Boxing Is Improving

    Coby and me sparring

    Sometimes after you get in the ring you want to debrief, talk with other boxers about how you did. So most nights after the team is finished sparring I’ll ask some of the newer boxers: “How did you do tonight?”

    And I’ve found that many of them have trouble answering in a way that satisfies themselves. They’ll say, “I didn’t do as well as I wanted,” but they have trouble defining it further. Or else there are so many things that need improvement that they’re overwhelmed by it all. I find myself thinking, and often saying, the same things.

    First, remember that it takes years to get any good at boxing.

    You can’t get in the ring for the first few months and do anything worth remembering. Really. Because you did pretty much everything wrong: your guard was down, your shots were sloppy, you telegraphed your every move, your feet were slow, you looked away, you had no cardio, and overall you looked about as sturdy as a newborn kitten in the path of a bulldozer. It was probably embarrassing to everyone who watched, but everybody starts there, period.

    A lot of kids come in and think it will go like it did when they first picked up a skateboard, or a basketball, or a frisbee. They messed around with it for a day or so and pretty quickly they could get in the game. Not so with boxing, which demands a baseline bit of skill but a fair amount of cardio and a wheelbarrow of guts just to get through your first rounds. And that’s after you’ve convinced a coach or trainer that you’ve paid enough dues in sweat to be allowed into the ring.

    The best way to know if your boxing is improving is to set small, clear, achievable goals.

    Here are a few examples.

    Tonight, I want to (pick two or three):

    • Keep my gloves up
    • Move my head more
    • Not square up with my opponent
    • Make it through 3 rounds without sucking for air
    • Throw more shots than I take
    • Maintain control of the ring
    • Not look away from my opponent
    • Throw a solid double jab
    • Move my feet more
    • Not get locked against the ropes
    • Throw both head and body shots
    • Get some power behind my right cross
    • Work on my inside game
    • Regularly slip or block punches
    • Throw three excellent left hooks in every round
    • Work on my uppercut
    • Keep my balance between my lead and rear foot
    • Commit to and fully extend my punches
    • Utilize my pivot
    • Finish each round strong
    • Score shots heavily in the last 30 seconds of each round
    • Land ___ shots per round (you’ll need a punch counter ringside)
    • Work on my  _______ (jab-hook-pivot, right cross – left hook, etc.) combination.

    Sometimes I even tell my opponent what, specifically, I’m going to work on.

    Yes, they’ll then be on the lookout for my left hook, but at least they understand that I’m going to throw a boatload of them, and I may even ask them to stop mid-round so that I can go through some slow-motion in order to tweak my form, or ask them why a particular move keeps falling short of power.

    Your trainer will pick good goals for you.

    Recently I was in the ring with a guy who was my same height, but every single time he threw his jab, he brought his glove back to his shoulder rather than his cheek or chin. So I had easy pickings on a right cross to his face, and was taking them on an intermittent but regular basis. But between rounds, my trainer told me to take every single one of those shots in the coming round. I wasn’t to let his jab return — ever — without shooting my right cross into his face. “And put a little more power behind it,” he told me.

    Midway through the next round my opponent realized, without anyone having to tell him, that he needed to work on one specific thing, which was getting his glove back in the correct position after a jab. He knew very clearly at the end of the night what had improved in his boxing!

    And I’ve been in his position plenty of times. If you don’t pick a goal, your opponent or trainer may pick one for you, and you’ll discover it the hard way!

    Sparring is your absolute best opportunity to learn and improve your boxing, so you want to focus on and optimize that time as well as you can. Choose a goal (or two) and make them your priority.

    You can even keep track of your goals in a notebook.

    I know I’m going to be in the ring every single Friday night, so sometimes I’ll write my goals on a post-it and stick it on my computer at work so I’ll be thinking about it in advance. Then, when I’m in the ring, I know what to work on. And I’ll also know, coming out of the ring, just how I did that night.

    You can’t work on everything all the time.

    But you can box on a baseline, and focus hard on a few choice skills or techniques, so that you’ll be able to see clear improvement over time.

    Stay strong. Train hard. And box smart.

    Photo of me sparring with Coby by Ken Hall Photography

  • A Boxing Footwork Epiphany

    A Boxing Footwork Epiphany

    You know how sometimes — just once in a great while — everything you’ve worked so hard for suddenly comes together in a beautiful, quiet epiphany?

    I had one of the best boxing nights ever last night.

    The boxing team had finished warm-ups and we were slugging our way through six rounds of independent shadowboxing. Round after round of shadowboxing is kind of like practicing scales on the piano for an hour; there are times when you (and everyone who has to listen to you) think it will never, never, never end. The sameness becomes oppressive and you feel like you aren’t learning anything, only going through the motions of the old stuff until you’re half batty.

    But it pays off, all that practice.

    Last night I was in round four, or five, or seventy million of shadowboxing when I suddenly realized that I was dancing.

    I know, weird.

    But I promise you, I don’t have a graceful bone in my body. I have trouble not snickering when my coach tells me (with a patient sigh) to be “light on my feet,” balanced; perfectly poised between my lead and back foot, able to slip easily in any direction in that peculiar fashion native to the ring and essential to boxing.

    I lurch. I stumble, trudge, and and haul my body through space in the most ungainly fashion.

    But I didn’t last night. My brain was far, far away when suddenly the Ghost of Fabulousness whispered in my ear. Lightly, so as not to scare the shit out of me. You’re dancing.

    I considered this. There I was, balanced lightly between my lead and rear foot. On my toes. Sliding effortlessly, never overbalanced. That easy bobbing, swaying, dip and weave unfolding gracefully in every direction.

    For the first time in memory, I loathed the bell that would end it.

    It wasn’t a sparring night, so I didn’t get to test my work in the real boxing arena. But when the trainer put us on the heavy bags I was filled with power. I punched through. I moved with grace. I was unstoppable.

    Unstoppable.

    Thank God for these moments. They are the stuff of hope.

    Image by zarajay

  • Lessons in the Ring: Footwork

    Lessons in the Ring: Footwork

    Recently I had the privilege of working one-on-one with a favorite trainer of mine; his name is Mike and he has the moves of a ninja assassin (I know tons of those guys) and the heart of a teacher. He mostly teaches MMA, and I frequently find myself thinking, “If I could box like he fights…” So with that in mind I arranged for a little bit of training time with him.

    It’s amazing how much you can learn in one short hour. Mike had me shadowbox for a few minutes or so, and gave me some pointers that will take me months to integrate.

    1. So much hinges on balance.
    I didn’t realize I’d been keeping most of my weight either on my front foot or (more frequently) my rear foot. This means I’m slow to move and if I add leaning back (which I tend to do) I could easily end up on my butt on the canvas.

    We have an old tire out on the loading dock behind our gym. I’ve spent time standing on it in my boxing stance, shifting my weight forward and back in the classic boxer shuffle, trying to get the hang of keeping my balance so precisely carried between my front and back foot that I can move quickly in any direction.

    Sound easy? I wish.

    2. Use the ball of your rear foot.
    I had been letting my toe pivot when I threw a straight right or a right hook, but I wasn’t keeping the ball of my back foot in solid contact with the ground and using it to push my punch out. This means I’m letting my arms do all the work when I could use my legs too.

    3. Duck under with a crescent step to the side, right hook.
    I really wasn’t working any angles, just boxing straight on. Mike drilled me on this simple “crescent” step — where you slide your right foot up and out to the side — before throwing a right hook. The ducking and sliding is in combination with a wind-up for that hook, which can go to the head or body. But all of it depends on getting the footwork right.

    4. Keep toes on front foot pointed straight at your opponent.
    I had been pointing mine to the right slightly, as if I were trying to get a head start in moving to the right (customary, when two orthodox fighters are working together). But this leaves me just slightly off balance and prevents me from moving quickly to the left.

    Just four more lessons on the way. Shout out to Mike Velotta: thanks so much!

    Image by danielmorris (kinda Christmassy, dontcha think?)