The Glowing Edge

Tag: footwork

  • How Many Rounds Does it Take to Shake Off Ring Rust?

    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

  • X-Ring Boxing Workout (OR, Non-Boxing Training is NOTHING Like Boxing Training)

    X-Ring Boxing Workout (OR, Non-Boxing Training is NOTHING Like Boxing Training)

    Since my gym is connected to at-risk students, it’s closed over the holidays. Which simply means I train in a horrible, cheap-ass purple and yellow joint (because it’s $10/month), or in the park. All of which was fine, or so I thought, for the 3 weeks I was doing it.

    And believe me, I was NOT slacking out. I have a fight coming up in a few weeks, so I did my hill sprints, my ab work, and so on. I might could be accused of being a little proud of myself.

    Then I got back to the boxing gym. Whew.

    Since I knew I wasn’t going to be sparring, and I’m not a huge fan of extended heavy bag work, I set up the ring for my favorite shadowboxing exercise, which I call the X-Ring.

    It kicked my ass for me, absolutely free of charge.

    How to set up the X-ring

    If you’ve ever tied up a rope to bob and weave under, you’re gonna like this one. We have a bob-and-weave rope, so I tie that from one corner of the ring to another, and then, since that’s the only rope I can ever find at Second Round, we tie together a couple of old, ratty hand wraps and string those across the other way, creating the “X” formation like you see in the picture above.

    The ties sit just below shoulder height for me, which makes this exercise good for someone my height (5’8″ or so), but not as good for someone smaller. So you’ll have to do your X-Ring exercise somewhere else in the gym where you can tie up lower, or out in a park between trees.

    Careful, don’t clothesline anyone.

    The X-ring workout

    Before you actually set up the ring, do a round or two of ring slides. That means you slide in a big circle, calves touching the ropes on each side, hands in high guard. Use small, quick slides, and switch directions regularly. Pivot and advance quickly to the center of the ring, throw a jab, then reverse out and continue your ring slides.

    Now do a couple of rounds of regular shadow boxing.

    Once you’re warm and ready, tie up the first half of the X. Start at one corner and bob and weave your way to the other corner, throwing a shot or combo now and then. Pivot and return with the same. Don’t be a metronome; mix up your timing. Jabs and power hands go straight ahead; throw hooks over and under the rope. Keep your guard up.

    My coach likes to walk the rope with me and smack my ear when I drop my guard. Thanks, coach. (No really, it helps.)(It also stings.)(But my damn guard goes back up.)

    Tie up the second line of the X. Now it gets complicated and delicious (and your coach will leave, but will continue to harass you from the ringside). As you shadowbox around the ring, you have to keep bobbing under those ropes. The closer you get to the center of the ring, the tighter your pivots and shots will be. Work the whole ring, and gain a fresh appreciation for boxing-specific training, which will kick your everlovin’ ass.

    Here it is in bullet list form, because you love bullet list form.

    • 2 rounds ring slides (both directions)
    • 2 rounds regular shadow boxing
    • 2 rounds bob and weave under single rope
    • 2 rounds shadowboxing with the X-ring formation

    Then do the rest of your workout, padawan.

    Put this on your faves list

    Here’s the thing. This exercise is SO much more like actual boxing that most of the rest of the non-sparring work you do, which is what makes it so damn useful. It’s complex, it’s fun, and if you’re a gamer the slightly chaotic pattern and the possibility of getting clotheslined may juice you right the hell up.

    And hey, you don’t even have to be an actively sparring boxer to do this one, and it will give you a real feel for what it’s like to work offense AND a little defense in the ring.

    And it’s kinda nice that the clotheslines won’t punch you, either.

    Your turn, young Jedi

    Comment me up. You use this one? Like it/hate it? Got more? Leave ’em below and share the misery!

  • How to Spar When You’re Dead-Ass Tired

    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

  • When Sparring is Magic

    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.

  • What You Should Know Before You Spar

    What You Should Know Before You Spar

    I have written about what you can expect the first time you spar, but my friend Amy Scheer — also a boxer — recently asked me what I thought a new boxer should know before getting in the ring for the first time.

    She also framed the question this way: Which Comes First, the Learning or the Doing? You should definitely click through and read about her experience. The post below is my response.

    There are two schools of thought in boxing.

    The first — and the one through which I came into boxing — says that you have to earn the right to get in the boxing ring.

    The second says throw ’em in, knock ’em around, wait to see if they are “man” enough to come back for more.

    I’m sitting here trying to think of a justification for the hard knocks school, and I can’t. I think it’s bullshit, to be honest. I think it’s usually a way for the guys who are already “in” to keep all the others out. It’s all about who’s king of the hill. A boy’s game, not even a man’s.

    But the way I came in isn’t easy either. Anyone who has ever rolled under the ropes knows just how frightening it can be. You don’t know what will happen, how you will hold up; you may not even know who you’ll be in with and whether or not you can trust them. That’s why I say again and again that the single most important thing you can have going for you in boxing is an outstanding, trustworthy trainer.

    A good trainer trumps everything else

    From the outside, boxing looks like an individual sport, but that isn’t actually the case. Not only do you need a great trainer, you also need a crew of boxers around you to encourage, support, challenge, and work with you. But even if you don’t have a team, you must have that trainer.

    My trainer made sure I had several things before I got in the ring for the first time. And since I had such an outstanding trainer and such a great experience coming in to the sport, I’ve naturally copied her in pretty much all of my basic approaches to boxing. (Any mistakes I make, however, are my own!)

    A rant, before I move on

    I need to get this out there. Putting two inexperienced boxers in the ring for the first time together is minimally useful at best (what can they possibly learn?), and dangerous at worst.

    Would you ask someone who doesn’t know how to swim to get in the pool and help your child learn to swim? Of course not. That’s ridiculous.

    Sure, they can both splash around in the shallow end and maybe they’ll be fine, but did they learn to swim? Did they gain skills? Have they moved forward?

    About the only good thing you can say about that situation is that they both got to get in the water. How much better it would be if they both got to get in the water with someone who can teach them something and also keep them safe?

    Okay. I feel a little better. Onward.

    Have some basic conditioning

    Before I began sparring, my trainer ensured I had a basic level of conditioning. I had come to her gym with what I thought was decent cardio (I’d been running regularly), but I didn’t realize that boxing is more like a series of hard, three-minute sprints rather than a lovely string of 10 minute miles.

    She got my cardio up enough to make it through a single round my first time. Ever try to sprint for 3 minutes without stopping? Yep, that’s pretty much what it felt like.

    She wanted to instill in me from the beginning a principle of boxing that sounds easy but is actually incredibly difficult: you fight until the bell rings. You don’t quit partway through. You come out working and you finish the round. Period.

    Bonnie made sure I could go a round before she put me in for one.

    Use your jab

    Before I got in the ring for the first time I had a crappy but dogged jab.

    I knew from repeated drills that a jab was the foundation for all of the punches in boxing. I didn’t yet know how to advance on the jab, but at least I had something to get out there in front of me so that I could force my opponent to stop an advance.

    I know a jab can also be offensive, but most new boxers need some basic defense before they worry about offense; chances are that they’ll be in the ring for their first sparring experience with someone who is — hopefully — much better at boxing than they are. A solid jab will help protect you in this situation.

    Keep your gloves up

    It was the one piece of advice Amy got before she rolled into the ring for the first time, and it’s good advice. “Cover up,” her trainer said. “Protect yourself.”

    This goes with a defensive jab; you need to bring that glove right back to your chin and keep it there, parallel to the other glove. It’s like having two big pillows in front of your face; they will deflect and dilute the power of a punch to your face.

    It’s also good to keep your elbows in and your chin down, but that’s more advanced. Still, a tight guard is what you need for protection, because slips, ducks, and other evasive moves won’t come until later.

    Never mind about footwork

    I’d love to say that a first-time sparring student should have footwork, but it isn’t likely that they will. You might have practiced some footwork, and you should certainly understand the basics of stance, balance, and how to move without crossing your feet, but chances are that once you get in the ring for the first time all that will fly out the door and you will mostly forget about your feet because you just have too many other things screaming for your attention.

    The four biggies, and knowing what’s coming

    So there are basically four things I think a boxer should have before getting in the ring: a good, trustworthy trainer, some basic conditioning, a jab, and a tight guard (gloves up, chin down, elbows in).

    The thing for a new boxer to know is that they are going to hit and be hit.

    That is a crazy thing to get your head around for someone brand new to the sport; especially if they’ve never hit anyone in their entire lives up to that point.

    Bonnie didn’t actually throw any punches at me the first time I was in the ring. She just let me throw them and feel what it was like to be in, moving hard, working my jab. The second time she threw easy punches, let me feel about half of her power. It was terrifying at first, but once I realized I could take it — and give it! — I was amazed. It was invigorating. I loved it!

    Sticking with it

    It got harder, of course, and I nearly always dreaded sparring nights, but I went.

    Because I knew what every boxer knows after a while: you can work the drills and train for cardio all you want, but the real learning happens in the ring.

     Image by Steve Tolcher

  • Agility Dot Drills

    Agility Dot Drills

    Light, agile, lightning-speed footwork can make the difference in winning and losing in the ring. Great boxers have the ability to win a round on footwork alone, and if you have ever been put in the ring with a newbie and instructed to use defense only, you’ve had to power up your best footwork in order to bring the best workout to your sparring partner.

    Agility dot drills can help you increase the speed and balance of your footwork while also increasing your cardio. Try setting up a series for yourself and see how quickly you can run a set of drills. Be patient with yourself as you work; these drills might feel simple going forward, but going backward will really challenge you.

    The best thing about these drills is that you don’t need any equipment to practice them. Yes, you can shell out cash for agility dots and agility dot mats (I found both online for $50 each — I refuse to even link it, that’s insane), but you don’t need them! Use a piece of chalk or a bit of masking tape to mark your five dots and you’re up and working. You can increase the size and spacing of the layout if you are taller, or as you increase in speed and ability.

    Check out the dude in the video below, or scroll on down for a list of drills you can set up and try on your own.

    Agility Dot Drills

    X Drill. Start with feet split, one foot on dot 1 and one on dot 2. Jump to dot 3 with both feet, then to dots 4 and 5 with feet split. Repeat the steps jumping backward.

    X Drill Hopscotch. Start with feet split, one foot on dot 1 and one on dot 2. Jump to dot 3 with ONE foot, then split feet to dots 4 and 5. Repeat jumping backward with same or alternate foot landing in the middle.

    X Drill with Turn Around. This is the same as the X Drill or X Drill Hopscotch except that when you get to the top or bottom, you turn your body around to go in the other direction.

    Z Drill. Form a Z pattern (4-5-3-1-2) using one leg or both feet together.

    M Drill. Form an M pattern (4-5-3-2-1) using one leg or both feet together.

    Figure 8 Drill. Form a figure eight (4-5-3-1-2-3-4) down and back, keeping feet together or on one foot only.

    Big Arrow, Little Arrow. Keep feet together, start at 1 and jump diagonally to 5, then back to 1. Now jump 1-4-1, 1-3-1, 1-2-1. Start over with the big diagonal jump.

    Box Drill. Keep feet together and hop the perimeter of the square (1-4-5-2-1), facing the same direction at all times.

    Single-leg Triangle. Hop on your left leg to form a triangle in a counterclockwise direction (2-3-1-2). Make five triangles then switch legs and make five triangles. Repeat the drill moving in a clockwise direction (1-3-2-1).

  • 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?)