The Glowing Edge

Tag: experience

When You Have a Bad First Sparring Experience
Sparring is NOT boxing for fitness. When you get in that ring, everything changes. It’s not like drills, it’s not like working the heavy bag, it’s not like padwork.

Sparring is radically different. Someone is trying to punch you in the face, and when you’re new to it, this can be not only terrifyingly alien, it can be downright demoralizing.

Here’s an email I received recently about exactly that:
I love The Glowing Edge, and it has been an invaluable resource to me as I begin to take the sport more seriously. I wanted to write to get your take on beginning to spar.

I have been going to a boxing gym for two years. The structure of the gym is mostly boxing-for-fitness classes. There’s only one other woman at the gym who spars and I finally had my first experience sparring with her.

I only went three rounds and I was rattled. It’s much more intimidating than I thought. I don’t know this fighter well. I didn’t feel comfortable asking her to ease up, I was worried that it would embarrass my coach and even though I’ve been going at it so hard in classes and training, all of a sudden I felt like there had been a gap in my education.
1. What can I do to move forward from a first night of sparring that felt sort of demoralizing?
2. Am I just being a whiny dumbass?
I don’t want to be one of those types who only shows up to sparring once or twice and then fades out. But I don’t know how to approach my coach about this. I also don’t want to go back to just doing classes for fun.
Hey, sparring sister. I know EXACTLY the stage you are in and NO you are not a whiny dumbass. This is 100% normal, and many of us have this same experience. More in a sec. First let me say this…

Sparring takes some getting used to

It really does. It’s a whole different game than pad work, drills, everything. That you went 3 rounds as a newbie is damned impressive. It’s some scary shit, right?

You had your first sparring experience with someone you didn’t really know, and I get that you wanted to not disappoint your coach. Sounds like she kinda overwhelmed you.

Here’s what the BEST sparring partners do for you

The best sparring partners hold themselves TO or JUST ABOVE your level so that you can get some good work without getting hurt or demoralized.

Sure, you may be bruised and headachy, but not so much that you’re like, “I don’t know if I want to do this again.”

The best coaches make sure this happens. But not everybody gets this kind of attention. Just a fact of gym life.

This is why you might not get much help when you’re new to sparring…

Boxing gyms do not survive because pro fighters train there. They don’t make money because someone wants to learn to compete in the amateurs, either. The trainers and coaches are not always even boxers themselves.

Boxing gyms survive financially because people want to get fit, not hit.

That’s just how it is. That’s where the money is, and there’s nothing wrong with that.

However, that means you have to take some initiative if you want to get your higher-level training and sparring work. SO. Here are a few tips for that.

The process of finding and getting to know sparring partners takes time and balls (ovaries?). If your gym doesn’t always give newbies excellent sparring partners who know how to do this, you gotta start building your own sparring program…

How to build YOUR OWN sparring program at ANY gym

1. Get to know some sparring partners.

Good sparring partners are SOLID GOLD to have. So make sparring friends. Travel to multiple gyms if you have to. Trade phone numbers. Friend them on Facebook.

The more you actually know other boxers as friends, the more comfortable you will be talking to them in the ring, letting them know what you need, helping them adjust to you.

Guys are fine for this. Just because you’re female doesn’t mean you have to only spar women. (That is such a bullshit attitude and I see it now and then from coaches.)

In fact, befriend some big guys. Charm them. Ask them for their opinion, for tips on certain moves. They are men, they love this shit. I’m telling you, this works every time. Hello men? Am I wrong? No I am not. 🙂

Let them feel like they are “mentoring” you — because guess what? They actually are.

Then when they’re getting in the ring, ask for their “warm up” rounds. In other words, you’re making it clear that their “warm up” is your “training.” They stop feeling pansy-ass working with a “girl” and start feeling all helpful to a woman.

I know, cheesy manipulation tactics.

But it really does work. Women have to be sneaky-asses sometimes in pursuit of bigger goals.

There will come a day when your rounds are nobody else’s warm ups, and when you’ll shine in the ring. You will be the one all the new people ask for help.

2. Don’t wait until “sparring night.”

Hijack the process and make your own timeline.

I told you this would take balls. Stop being so damn polite!

The more you can pass off your sparring as “just working on some tactics with so-and-so” the more pressure you take off everyone involved, including any coach who might be nearby.

FAKE it till you make it. Pretend it’s all very casual — force it to be. Believe me, that helps SO much.

3. Be consistent.

Keep at it. The longer you go without sparring, the scarier it gets.

I’m still boxing while I stare 50 in the face, and loving every day of it. I love when sparring is magic, and I even love the days when I get my ass kicked (the good kind of ass kicking, not the demoralizing kind).

There’s so much joy and empowerment in this sport; I really hope you’ll stick with it!

Let yourself be a newbie for a few years

You are brand-freaking-new at this. I know it doesn’t seem that way, but boxing takes FOR EVER to get good at.

You’re going to get better at dealing with the punches. You’re going to get better at moving your head and feet. You’ll learn to control the ring.

And you’re going to get to know more and more people in the boxing world the longer you stick with this. This may be the biggest, most life-encompassing challenge you’ve ever faced on a daily basis.

It’s totally worth it.

Photo Credit: kate.gardiner via Compfight cc
April 7, 2015
How to Spar When You’re Dead-Ass Tired

I’m deep in training for my next fight, and recently had the opportunity to travel to a nearby gym to get sparring rounds with a group of people whose fighting habits I wasn’t already accustomed to.

Amazingly (and for the first time in my entire boxing experience), these 5 sparring partners were all women, and they had a range of ability from brand new to experienced competitor.

My coach was there because he trains people at that gym, and if I had ANY idea that I’d get off easy because it wasn’t my gym, I dismissed that pretty quickly, because he knows I have a match coming up and he was pushing me hard.

The best way to spar, period

Here’s my favorite way to spar: I get in for opening rounds with someone who will let me warm up. Ideally, this is a beginner or a less-experienced boxer.

That allows me to operate at a lower speed, working on evasions and defense, slipping punches and keeping my feet active. I throw a few easy punches — not trying to hurt my opponent, just making touches, finding my distance, and keeping them from thinking they only have to play an offensive game.

It’s always ideal if you can do your first two or three rounds with someone less experienced than you are, then roll out for two rounds to recover.

Next comes the good part, and the heart of the workout. Your next three to five rounds should be with someone who can seriously challenge you. This is your chance to work your skills, throw some power, and push yourself.

Your final two or three rounds should be drill work with a sparring partner in the ring. Go over the specific moves you haven’t been getting right. Work them until they start to sink in.

Warm up rounds, work hard rounds, drill rounds — best sparring sequence ever.

But what I got recently at another gym was warm up, work hard, then work hard while exhausted. Then do a few more.

My coach gets a perverse pleasure from having us fight through the 30-second recoveries between rounds during the last million rounds, which forces us to keep pushing without the breather we’re used to. Sometimes he will keep me in and roll in a fresh boxer, and I’ll start to feel my guard slipping, my feet slowing, and my punches becoming predictable. (Also the pain from getting tagged, derrr! Although mostly that’s felt later…)

Yes, it’s heinous. But it’s incredibly important to experience this and know what you’re going to do in the situation.

Because you WILL have this situation. You will find yourself in the ring when you are dead-ass tired. Utterly exhausted. And you’ll have to figure out what to do.

What tired beginners do wrong

First of all, you should never quit in the middle of the round just because you’re tired. It’s a bad practice, and shows your lack of discipline and fortitude. If you give up during a competition mid-round, you automatically hand the win to your opponent whether or not they were actually winning the fight.

In other words, you might win the fight simply by NOT quitting.

In addition, I see tired beginners hunch over and put their gloves on their knees. This opens you up for a serious knockout uppercut if the ref doesn’t stop the match immediately.

Several other errors boxers make when they are tired are looking away from their opponent, running from their opponent, and failing to defend themselves.

So what’s a safer, better way to fight exhausted? You’ll be surprised at how many options you have in your toolbox.

9 tactics for fighting when you’re totally exhausted

Only a select few boxers — and by “select few” I mean absolutely NOBODY — gets out of having to box when they are dragging-ass tired. And if everyone else has to do it, you will, too. It’s far more discouraging to be unprepared and end up doing something stupid (see above) than it is to make it, sloppy or not, through those final, difficult rounds.

1. Mentally prep yourself, Grasshopper

Much of the sparring at this point is mental, believe it or not. You need to prep yourself in advance to know you are going to find yourself in the ring with a superior boxer when you are utterly spent. Zen the hell up, dude.

Think about it when you’re at the end of your regular workouts. Watch other exhausted boxers during their sparring. Imagine yourself in their place. Expect it. Being prepared is 80% of the battle.

2. Build up your meat grinder support system

If you are there at the edge of the ring calling out support and encouragement for others when they are getting killed, you can damn well bet that they’ll be helping you out when it’s your turn for the meat grinder.

Oh, and be sure to thank the people who are there for you. Let them know that their voice, their offer of a water bottle, their understanding makes all the difference for you.

Also, listen to your coach. Your brain isn’t working any more, but theirs is.

3. Keep your eyes on your freakin’ opponent

It’s easy — and hell, you’re hardwired! — to look away from someone still slinging shots at you when you got nothing and want to run. Don’t do it. Stare down your opponent. Maybe none of your other body parts are still working, but you can damn well use your eyeballs! And who knows, you might just get lucky and evade a killer shot, simply because you were watching.

4. Don’t run from your sparring partner

If you’ve ever been to an amateur fight you’ve seen exhausted boxers “running” in the ring. If there is one thing worse than being dead-ass tired in the ring, it’s being dead-ass tired and trying to run!

Keep your feet moving. You don’t have the gas to bounce, shuffle, pivot, or move quickly, but you can damn well walk. So do it.

Don’t give your sparring partner a standing target, either. That’s shooting fish in a barrel. Put one foot in front of the other and walk. The more you walk, the less chance you have of taking a hard one, and the more time you have to recover your breath.

5. Keep your damn guard up

Even if you can’t throw ANYthing, keep your guard up! Move into a defensive game. If you get cornered (because you’re not walking, see above) and are taking a heavy rain of shots, keep covered up. Gloves up, elbows tight to your ribs.

6. Close with your opponent

I know it feels counter-intuitive, but stepping INSIDE your opponent’s range cuts off their power. Their shots are abbreviated, and won’t be as strong or hard. If you can, clench with them. LEAN on them. Do what you can with your weight and body to tire them out.

7. Fight dirty

Did you scroll through the others and stop here? You did, you cheater. Well, this one is perfect for you, then.

What counter-intuitive moves or slightly non-legal tactics do you know? Long clinches (above) are not allowed, but we do it all the time. ALWAYS punch out of the clinch, if you can do it before the ref calls break. (If the ref calls break, you’re required to take a step out before throwing another shot.)

Posting (holding a stiff arm against your opponent to keep them from moving in) works if you have to use it in a pinch. I don’t recommend shots below the waist, but what about a nice little kidney shot while you’re in tight? Some of those even get counted as legal. Hard shoulder bumps followed by a roll are good, and don’t always get called.

And stop looking at me like that. A little bit of sneakiness is part of the game.

8. Interrupt their game

There’s no power left to fuel your shots, but if you can get your jab out there, even a crappy jab, you’ll be interrupting your sparring partner’s offense and slowing them down. Also if you have a blanket handy that you can throw over their head, that helps. (Hah.)

9. Hold onto your sense of humor, monkey poop

Above all, remember to keep a sense of humor about your training. Yes, you look like monkey poop. But better to look (and smell) like that in training than in an actual match. And anyway, you’ll be so damn proud of yourself for surviving it — later, after you’ve showered and eaten enough dinner for three people — that you’ll be putting yourself back in again in no time.

Been there? Got tactics to share? Leave me a comment, superstar.

CC image by beasticus on Flickr

December 13, 2012
When Sparring is Magic

I can’t remember when I last had one of these days, but this week it all came back to me in one of those clear, beautiful, pristine experiences of pure sparring magic.

Sparring is always hard boxing work. It’s actually much more pleasurable than having a fight in many ways — less stress, less endless waiting, more actual time in the ring, and you often learn more as well.

But in the sporadic sparring experiences I’ve had in the past 6 months or so, I haven’t had one of these surreal days in the ring where everything came together like magic. This week they clicked.

Coach Massey was training a team of people in a different gym, and I wanted to get up there to see Eric, a friend of mine, who recently started competing. I also hoped to get some new and different work — working in a new gym with new people is a great way to shake up your training routine and test yourself. I hate it, and love it at the same time.

The dread that comes before

I woke up with the dread churning in my stomach. What if I suck? What if I humiliate myself? Have I been training hard enough? I have to stop slacking on my intervals. Etcetera. I forced down some bran flakes for breakfast and had a banana an hour or so later. I hydrated constantly. I stopped periodically during my morning to get mentally centered, rolling the tension out of my neck and reminding myself to relax.

And of course I took a wrong turn on the freeway and was abysmally late. Ugh.

But the moment I walked in, Coach Massey hailed me from ringside, and I immediately saw my friend Eric shadowboxing in the back. The place was filled with sunshine (unlike every other gym I’ve trained in recently) and the doors were propped open for the breeze. A former trainer of mine was working hard in the ring with a man holding pads and wearing a heavy punching vest; both of them glistened with sweat.

A pleasant surprise

And get this: two women were geared up and waiting to roll under the ropes next.

Two women! Both about my size. About to spar! In case you’re missing the import of this, let me assure you that this is unprecedented where I live. I rarely have the chance to train with one woman, and two is somewhat mind-boggling. I watched them for a moment and realized I was going to get a chance to get good work in — both of these awesome women were paying attention, working hard, and neither seemed out for war or bloodshed. This wasn’t going to be an ego session; it was going to be honest boxing labor.

I was so excited I could barely stand to warm up. I gave Eric a hug and put in a halfhearted round or two of stretching and shadowboxing before I eagerly geared up and stood ringside, waiting for my chance.

Do women box differently than men?

Just this week I had been having an email conversation with Adam Welsh (you’ve heard from him before here on TGE) about a comment pro boxer Anne-Sophie Mathis made recently about preferring to spar with men, because in her experience, “men are much more technical, their body language is more beautiful. The girls are certainly more vicious and aggressive, but they lack a little consistency…”

I’d been turning this thought over and over again in my head. ARE women more aggressive in the ring? If we are, it’s because we know that we have to fight twice as hard to be taken half as seriously. Or at least, that’s my feeling. But I hesitate to paint with so broad a brush, and say that all women are like this…

But I was ready to say that I preferred male sparring partners, too. Not for the reasons Mathis states, but because I’m more used to them, and they don’t seem to need to prove anything with me (most of the time). There’s not much respect to be gained by a male boxer from beating the crap out of a woman — but if she brings game, there can be a good sparring session for both partners.

But yesterday I changed my mind.

Both these women were so good to work with. Christy was — amazingly — a new Master’s fighter. I’m not sure I can name even ONE other female Masters boxer in North Carolina. My opponents are always out of state. Christy and I were exactly the same weight and height. This NEVER happens!

The second boxer, Erica, was perhaps in her early 20s, and had just won the Golden Gloves. A bit lighter than me, but same height.

I would work with both of these women any day of the week, any time. They gave good game, and I know I drew great pleasure out of our work and got some good stuff in.

Burning off the edge

First Coach Massey put me in with Nassir, a former trainer of mine, and he effectively warmed me up and burned off my nervous edge, although it’s hard to box with him because he’s so fast. He can stand in the middle of the ring and never move his feet and you still can’t seem to nail him with a solid punch. If you give him his feet, just hang up your gloves and go home; you don’t stand a chance of landing anything.

If I had to name his weakness it would be that he depends so much on his hyper-speed that he punches less than he probably should. But I wouldn’t be idiot enough to tell him that while I was in the ring with him.

Next I had rounds with each of the women, and suddenly the pace was slower and I could see everything that was happening (which I can’t do with Nassir).

The step-off

You know how boxers have a little switch-foot stutter step thing they often do in the ring? They’re in their stance, right foot and shoulder forward and left foot back. Then suddenly, they switch stance (left foot and shoulder forward) and step off? Easy, right? Yeah, everybody has a plan until they get punched in the face. My sparring partner Sinclair was working with me on this move a few weeks ago. And it was just not happening unless I expended superhuman effort.

In the ring with these women, it suddenly was there for me. I didn’t have to think about it, it was just magic. My brain worked on other things and my feet did the step off at the right moments entirely without my input. It was beautiful.

Coach Massey saw the first one and whooped. I had no idea what he was excited about. I could feel the glide, the move, the pure lack of effort, but I didn’t know he was watching my feet. Both of us paused in our round and looked at him.

“Lisa pullin’ the step-off!” he hollered, and I grinned, taking full credit even though I’d had no part in it.

Boxing is so like this. You work your ass off on something and NEVER get it right for AGES, then suddenly, it’s burned into your muscle memory and it comes together. Magic.

If you do it once, it’s a fluke. But I was doing it regularly, every round, with just the right timing.

What the hell? But I wasn’t complaining.

It made me feel great that Coach called over another boxer and instructed her to watch my feet to see how I was doing it. It’s just a good thing I didn’t have to explain it, because I have no idea how it got there, hah. I probably couldn’t have done it on command.

The slip

This was another muscle memory move that came together nicely, but this one happened because I wasn’t in with Nassir or Sinclair, or any of the regular guys I fight with who are blazing-fast. I was in with women closer to my own experience level, and I could Flat. See. And evade. Damn near everything.

Thank you, Baby Jesus and all those hours spent eating punches while struggling to overcome the hop back, flinch, blink, and turn away reflexes. It was worth every sweaty hour of that work. I was ducking under (!) slipping side to side, and keeping just inches out of range.

I did notice that I tend to slip right more commonly than left, but NEVER have I slipped so many punches that I noticed such a thing before!

Ahh, I love the magic.

The fuel

The last good piece about this awesomely awesome sparring experience was that I didn’t gas out. I had the fuel I needed to do what I was asked to do. Gotta tell you, I CURSE those intervals when I’m running steps, but I am SO glad I suffered through them when I perform well in the ring.

Your heart just needs that kind of hard training in intense, 3-minute bursts with 30 second recoveries in order to be able to show any kind of chops in the ring.

I hate intervals, but I’ll tell you now, I’m a believer.

And I’ll keep doing them.

Meanwhile, I’ll be curious to see if my next sparring experience goes as well as this one did. Can’t wait to work with Christy and Erica again! Ladies, I salute you; you were gutsy, beautiful, and I enjoyed every second of our work together…

Stay strong everyone, and if you’re struggling and wondering if it will EVER come together — it will! Promise.

March 16, 2012
What to Expect the First Time You Spar in Boxing
Whether you started boxing for fitness or because you want to compete, one of the most scary and exciting things you’ll ever do is step into the ring for your very first sparring session.

Depending on how long you’ve been training, who you’re stepping into the ring with, and how trustworthy your trainer is, your first experience in sparring may be vastly different than someone else’s, but there are several common factors that you are likely to encounter.

First of all, your conditioning sucks.

I have had to say this about myself at many stages of boxing, not just when I started sparring. It seems like every time I take things up a notch (going a lot of rounds in a row for the first time, sparring with a pro boxer, having my first real fight, shifting to a more competitive gym) I quickly find myself panting and heaving, wondering why on earth my conditioning is so bad when I thought it was so good.

But nearly everyone who gets into the ring for their first time sparring finds — very quickly — that they simply aren’t in the kind of anaerobic sprint condition that a short little 3 minute round of boxing calls for. I promise this gets better as you spar more, and as you begin to do more sprints and intervals in your training.

The urge for “flight” is really, really strong.

The whole “fight or flight” system in your body is pretty serious, and when someone is throwing punches at you this will become very apparent in short order. Some of your biggest mistakes, which will be overcome with practice, will be that you tend to look away or shut your eyes when a shot comes straight for your face, you have an overwhelming tendency to flinch, and you may even turn your back on your sparring partner in the ring (that last one is a massive no-no, by the way; your trainer should stop the sparring session to tell you this if she or he sees you doing it).

Your shots will be wild, and you may hurt someone.

Brand new boxers are the absolute worst at controlling themselves in the ring. Typically a trainer will put very experienced boxers in with a newbie, because there’s a pretty good chance that the new person is scared, hasn’t had a chance to learn how to manage the adrenaline pumping through their body, and simply can’t know the difference yet between getting and giving good boxing practice versus surviving in the ring.

All the nice footwork, pretty shots, and well-practiced combinations that you were able to do while working on the heavy bag just fly out the door when you step into the ring, leaving you swinging wildly and without much thought. Learning to think and plan under this kind of pressure takes time. It’ll come.

Ideally, you want to get in the ring for the first time with your trainer, or another very good boxer who can evade your wild shots and help you find some calm in the storm as you learn.

You’ll start thinking seriously about your gear.

You never really need to put a lot of thought into your boxing gear until you start sparring. But this is where it becomes important. With a little preparation, you can avoid some of the newbie problems.

Gloves: Any old gloves from the gym’s common supply will do for a beginner’s work on the heavy bag, but in the ring you should be wearing big, puffy 16oz gloves so that no one gets hurt. That’s what you’ll use in amateur competition, anyway. I used the gym gloves only once or twice before buying my own. I started with cheap gloves and moved up after those wore out about a year later.

Wraps: You’ve probably figured out what works by the time you start sparring, but if you are over the age of 30, you may want extra protection, because your hands ache after boxing. I used to cut up a beer cozy and tape the foam strips across my knuckles under my wraps. Now I just wear gel gloves (like the MMA fighters use) rather than wraps. Wraps and gels can both be washed, too.

Mouth guard: Fortunately, my trainer had been having our team train with mouth guards in for weeks prior to my first time in the ring, which meant I got over my gag reflex and also learned how to breathe comfortably with one in.

Mouth guards are made for men, so unless you’re a guy your first mouth guard may not fit well. If the regular size is too big, try a youth size. I’ve bought and tossed several, and always go back to the Shock Doctor gel guards. I don’t like the double (upper and lower) guards, but I find the regular guard that covers just your top teeth is perfectly adequate.

Get it in advance because it has to be boiled and formed to your teeth before sparring.

Headgear: Common headgear problems have to do with fit: either it obscures your vision or slips around under fire. My first headgear was common gear from the gym’s pit, and it had a metal or plastic bar through the chin pad which gave me a monster bruise the first (and last) time I wore it. I bought a cheap $29 headgear from Dick’s Sporting Goods after that, and it served for a while even though it was very thin definitely not competition grade.

If you can, buy only USA Boxing approved headgear. Be willing to send it back over and over again until you have a perfect fit. It should be tight when you’re cold, because once you start to sweat it has to stay in place.

I’ve found the best kind of headgear has an adjustable lace top, velcro or lace-up back, and NO “Master’s” padding on the cheekbones.

Shoes: I boxed for a year or so before investing in shoes. I bought wrestling shoes since they’re pretty much the same as boxing shoes. The advantage that boxing or wrestling shoes gives you is that they fit tighter and don’t cling to the canvas like running shoes. They help you make tiny, quick footwork moves. You can feel the canvas, pivot easily, and bounce lightly on your toes.

Boxing or wrestling shoes have almost no padding or arch support, no matter what they advertise. They can’t be loaded down with it and still be light and flexible. So don’t wear them all the time, just for working in the ring.

You may be ridiculously self-conscious.

I was terribly nervous about my first time, and really wished I could suck in private, rather than embarrassing myself publicly for all the world to see. I didn’t blog about it, I didn’t allow photos of it, I tried not to let people know exactly when I was going to do it. But the day came and I had to get in and be every bit as terrible a boxer as I expected.

Listen. Everybody starts here. And yes, people are going to watch and see and think what they think. The truth is that everyone who has boxed before will understand, and everyone who hasn’t boxed before will be so glad it’s you and not them, hah.

You’ll come out feeling like a superhero.

If you have the right kind of trainer and gym (and not one of those crappy places where they beat you up in order to feel like they are bad ass and way cooler than you’ll ever be), you will be so grateful to have survived without weeping, puking, or dying! Your brain will be firing all kinds of crazy messages like
- “Did I really just do that??”
- “Damn, I rock!”
- “Wow, my conditioning sucks.”
- “Damn, I rock!”
- “I am so glad I didn’t puke!”
- “I really did do it, didn’t I??”
In fact it was a post by a friend of mine (and regular TGE commentor) Amy, who got me thinking about this again. You definitely need to read her thoughts on her first time sparring.

The next day, say hello to your sparring hangover!

It’s not unusual to be pretty worn out and have a headache the day after you spar. I typically don’t do serious sparring more than once a week because it’s fairly hard on the body, especially if you are working 8 or 10 hard rounds (which you can work up to, but shouldn’t be doing right off the bat). Ibuprofen should take care of most of your head and body aches.

You may have other, more specific pains. The first time I sparred I threw a slew of hard rights that didn’t land, hyper-extending my right elbow pretty painfully. For that I needed a big, flexible icepack, which for me was a bag of frozen peas. I later invested in two good icepacks, so I could use one while the other re-froze.

In my opinion, regular hard training hurts more than sparring.

You rock. You really do rock! Now go do it again.

You’ve done something most people would never dare try. Once you’ve cleared that first monster hurdle, you need to do it again. It was terrifying, but you didn’t let that stop you. Now don’t let the long road to getting good in the boxing ring intimidate you. Most new boxers bail out of sparring sessions now and then, especially after a particularly bad sparring session; the fear factor is pretty high for quite a while, and maybe it never goes away entirely. I’ve been boxing for several years and I still get serious jitters.

Don’t let that stop you. You have accomplished a pretty incredible thing. Keep building on your success!

Superhero image by Gomez-C on Flickr; the rest are (of me on a sparring night) by Ken Hall Photography
July 8, 2011