Tag: blood

  • How to Succeed in Boxing

    How to Succeed in Boxing

    Success in boxing isn’t always measured by the number of “W”s on your passbook. It’s something hard-won over time with plenty of blood, sweat, and the right attitude.

    Take a look at the following 11 keys to success in boxing, and join in the discussion by leaving your ideas and additions in the comments below.

    1. Don’t ask who will let you learn to fight. Ask who will stop you.

    This was my very first lesson in learning to box, and not coincidentally, in learning to live the life I dreamed of but didn’t have. The voice inside your head that says you can’t do this is a liar. If you want power, fight for it. If you want love, fight for it. If you want your art, your career, your relationships, your health…there isn’t someone you need to ask permission from. But there may be people, roadblocks, and personal limitations you’ll have to push past.

    2. Find a coach you can trust.

    Great boxing coaches almost always have boxing experience of their own. But just because someone was a boxer does not mean they’ll make a good coach. You want someone who understands how to teach boxing by careful increments, not the “throw ’em in the ring, beat ’em up, and see if they are ballsy enough to come back” school. Avoid any trainers who teach by routinely belittling, cursing, bullying, or humiliating their fighters. Certifications are overrated; what you want is someone you feel can bring out your best game. You can’t always put a certification on that.

    3. Accept that blood happens.

    Black eyes, bloody noses, busted ribs, torn muscles, knockout punches, and even serious ass kickings do happen in boxing. No, boxing is not all about beating someone up or getting beat up, but if you try to get through this sport without your fair share of pain, you may be knitting but you aren’t boxing. As it happens, the same is true in life. Sometimes you get punched in the face, hard. It’s far better to have some experience with that so that you know how to respond to it.

    4. Play to your strengths. Train up your weaknesses.

    As you start to learn to box, you’ll discover that you have certain strengths and liabilities as a fighter. You may have great reach, but you don’t like the inside game. Maybe your punches pack power, but you can’t seem to get your feet to move lightly in the ring. You never manage to land an uppercut, but your jab stings like a bitch. Figure out what you’re good at, and put it to extra use in the ring. Accept that you have vulnerabilities, and seek training partners who excel in those areas and will help you train up your weaknesses so that they don’t present a fatal crack in your armor.

    5. When you can’t do something everyone can do, train until you get it or find a workaround.

    I learned a long time ago that as a boxer in her 40s I can’t always do the same things in training that the teenagers do. I’ve learned to come early to warm up more, find alternate exercises when one they’re doing won’t work for me, and modify some of the “routine” training patterns of my boxing team so that I can do the same work in a way that fits my body. For example, if the call is for 40 push-ups, I’ll do mine in sets rather than all in a row. One size does not fit all in boxing training; push yourself, but make it work for you and not against you.

    6. Keep climbing back into the ring.

    Learning to box takes years. It isn’t something you can try this week, and be “naturally” great at. Street fighters do not have an advantage. Muscle-bound tough guys do not have an advantage. Football players, rugby players, hockey players or other athletes do not have an advantage. (MMA fighters have an advantage.) Boxing is its own game, with unique challenges and rewards. The only way to become good is to train consistently over a long period of time. Set goals and work to achieve them, but remember the scale of this sport and allow yourself time to improve.

    7. Fight until the bell rings.

    Your first rounds in sparring are a real eye-opener as far as showing you exactly what’s required in this sport. Even once you have lots of experience, you’ll go in the ring some days thinking those three tiny minutes last about a hundred years each. But giving up mid-round sends the message that you just aren’t serious.

    8. Cross train.

    Going to your boxing gym three or four times a week may make your game good, but throwing in regular cross training will take you to the next level. And if you can make your cross training fit the rhythms of boxing (for example, fit exercises into 3 minute intervals with 30 second rests when possible), you’ll make your game the best it can be. Cross training strengthens the muscles that boxing doesn’t hit, alleviates boredom, and opens you to new experiences, coaches, and communities.

    9. Seek out experienced fighters and listen to what they have to say.

    Learn from the boxers who are already good. They know a lot, and can show you things you haven’t figured out yet. Watch them when they’re in the ring. Ask them questions. Train alongside them. One way to get good is to copy someone who is already there.

    10. Seek out new fighters, and listen to what they have to say.

    If you’re new, they will make you feel less alone. If you’re experienced, they will keep you on your toes and even teach you things you’ve missed or forgotten about. It’s always valuable to have the perspective of someone new to boxing. It’s also important to give back by listening to newbies and offering what counsel and encouragement you can.

    11. Remember to breathe.

    This sounds ridiculous until you’ve gone your first few rounds in the ring. Holding your breath while punching, forgetting to relax while in the ring, taking tiny, shallow fearful breaths… There’s so much strain and fear and work in boxing you can frequently find yourself fighting without breathing. A good coach and corner will constantly remind you to breathe, and you will have to work and focus hard to obey them. (You’ll be glad you learned it, though.)

    I know there’s plenty missing from the list. What you would add? And I’m curious to know how well you think these keys translate to other sports as well. Leave a comment below and weigh in!

    Photo of me training by Melissa Eggleston

  • The Maker’s Bedroom Door

    The Maker’s Bedroom Door

    I knew you would enjoy this, violent people that you are.

    If only the purple one showed up better: it looks like if you enter without caution you could get a bloody lip. Like, a serious bloody lip, with enough blood to satisfy a whole pack of vampires. Of course, they say head wounds bleed a lot.

    I also like “Dager,” which the husband says means dagger, but I think indicates danger. As in, Danger, you might slip on all the blood.

    I’m also thinking of sneaking away with the “Leave now or els” which is so much like Leave now or eels that I giggle every time I see it.

    Which really takes away from the aura of Dager.

  • Blood Happens (but I’m really sorry)

    Blood Happens (but I’m really sorry)

    Image by paperrocks a.k.a. evalinda
    Image by paperrocks a.k.a. evalinda

    It’s a major balancing act, bringing a new boxer into the ring. Especially if it’s a woman. Women who actually want to get in the ring are just such rare occurrences that when one comes around I keep my fingers crossed and do my absolute best to encourage rather than scare them away. However, blood happens.

    Yesterday I was warmed up and ready to spar when a woman I’d never seen before came up to me with a friendly smile and a warm greeting. I will admit, in advance, to my utter inability to carry on any sort of normal conversation, I was so floored:

    Newbie: Hi, are you Lisa?
    Me: Yeah.
    Newbie: Great, the coach says I’m gonna spar with you.
    Me: Oh! Cool. Um, I haven’t seen you around here before; been coming here long?
    Newbie: Nope, three weeks. By the way, the coach said I was just going to be on defense, so you get to beat up on me.
    Me: What?
    Newbie: Yeah, aren’t you the one who broke your rib?
    Me: Yeah, but…
    Newbie: Right. So you can be on offense, and I’ll just take your punches.
    Me: Oh. So you’ve boxed before, I guess.
    Newbie: No, this will be my first time!

    [protracted silence, while I try to get my brain to work out why she would sign up for this]

    Me: Do I understand correctly that you’ve never been in the ring before and Bonnie actually told you to get in the ring with me and let me box with you throwing NO punches??
    Newbie: Oh, no! I told her I wanted to do it and she said okay.
    Me: Are you crazy? Why would you want to do that?
    Newbie: Well, I’ve been coming here three weeks, and it’s a boxing gym, and I just figured, well, I’ll try it out!

    I had never heard that before in my life. I’m constantly trying to persuade women to give it a try in the ring. They rarely want to. And here’s a woman who not only wants to, but is actually telling me that she’s not going to throw a punch.

    No way would I go for that. Yes, I’m just healing up from an injury, but that’s just nuts, and I told her as much. We would box normally, and I told her I’d be very careful and control my punches and that she should throw whatever she could, although I did state a preference for head shots, since I’d never seen this woman box and I had no idea if she had the power to re-fracture my rib free of charge.

    In we went, and she did just fine. She was a southpaw and after we stepped on each other’s feet a few times she asked me if she should aim for my face, which cracked me up entirely. “Yes,” I encouraged, and tapped my headgear, “Come on, let’s do it.” After a bit she landed an easy jab. I was already prepared for the apology which poured out and both Bonnie and I said it in unison: “Don’t apologize! Box!” It did make me laugh again, though. I gave her some light jabs, and was actually enjoying myself when I landed a very pretty body shot to her stomach, only a touch. But she realized what had just happened, and sucked in her breath. “Wow, that could have hurt,” she noted. I nodded — body shots suck — and we continued to the second round. I started letting her feel some jabs, and several times put my goves up and leaned into her to let her work on me. The first time this confused her a bit, but Bonnie explained that I was giving her a chance to do some offense without having to think about taking a punch, and she accepted that.

    It was right at the end of our second round that she stepped smack into my straight right jab. She was wearing a face-saver with a bar across the nose, but it was a solid little pop. Her head rocked back, and I immediately swore to myself. I just lost another woman boxer, I thought.

    “Woo!” she cried; it was her first real hit and she knew it. I asked her if she needed a minute, or was okay to go on, and she blinked a few times and ducked back in. “Oh, thank God,” I thought, “she’s gonna be okay in the ring.” But a moment later she said “That made my nose run a little,” and my heart sank. I couldn’t see it yet, but I knew I’d bloodied her nose. We all deal with bloody noses and split lips; it’s just a part of boxing. But I’d hoped the face-saver would prevent it. She finished the round and Bonnie pulled off her headgear; we both knew what we’d find and Bonnie was ready with a paper towel. It wasn’t a big bleeder, but I figured I’d never see her in the ring again.

    But Bonnie is smart. She kept me in the ring and sent in Tim, an excellent boxer who brings out the best in me. “Give me real jabs,” I told him, and he delightfully obliged. Our newbie stood holding the paper towel to her nose and watched Tim and me work; she saw me get rocked a time or two and still keep going.

    But I don’t know if she’ll be back. I really hope she will.