The Glowing Edge

Tag: gear

  • The Most Critical Boxing Rule Every Fighter Should Follow

    The Most Critical Boxing Rule Every Fighter Should Follow

    If you ask any ten boxers what the most important rule in boxing is you’ll hear things like “wear the right protective gear,”  “find a coach you can trust,” or “learn the straight punches.” And all of those are important in learning to box.

    But as I work each week with the new fighters at my gym, I see one major factor dividing the up-and-coming boxers from the ones who will never make it far in boxing…

    These things are important

    In no way am I trying to diminish the critical nature of the boxing advice you hear online, from other coaches, or even here on The Glowing Edge. Boxing is an enormous, complex sport, and there’s just no way to accomplish much in it without years of solid training and practice. Here’s a list of some great boxing tips, and you’ll get plenty of oil to grease your boxing engine if you follow them:

    But THIS is the dividing line…

    So day after day I’m in the boxing gym, training, coaching, and watching other boxers. And there is one factor that tells me whether or not someone is willing to do the real work of boxing. One single thing.

    And that’s training to the bell.

    I can’t count the number of times I’ve seen guys belly up to the heavy bag, fire off a handful of full-power combos, and then sit back in sheer self-appreciation and deep personal satisfaction.

    Of course it feels great to blast the bag a few times. And there are plenty of days when you want to use every ounce of strength you have, play it all out to see what it feels like.

    But being able to throw 15 hard punches means absolutely zero, zip, nada in boxing.

    Strutting around the gym dabbling here and there is worse than useless — you’re actually in the way of serious boxers and you’re a distraction and bad example to other beginners. It would be better for everyone if you’d just go home and nurse your boxing fantasy in front of your mirror while the rest of us get the real work of boxing done.

    (I so wanted to find a picture of a guy posing in front of his mirror at home, enjoying his boxing superstar fantasy. Go find one and post the link in the comments so we can have a good chortle.)

    If you want to box, train to the bell

    If you can’t go a single full round (2 or 3 minutes) of doing something — punching, footwork, jump rope, shadowboxing, padwork, running, agility dots, slipping, rope work, ring slides, planks, or some other fight-related action — you have not even begun to work at boxing.

    There should be a round timer going in your gym most of the time. If there isn’t, get yourself a timer, or learn to set your watch/phone/music player to time your rounds. Do every single training exercise in rounds of 2 or 3 minutes, with 30 second recoveries. If your round timer has a 30-second bell (which rings to indicate there are 30 seconds left in the round before it ends), use that time to double your efforts and power your way toward the bell.

    If you take a round off, be back at the bags, on the mat, or in the ring and ready to roll when the bell rings. That bell going off should not be your reminder to put down your water bottle and saunter over to the speed bag to resume your work; you should already be there ready and waiting to get the first shot in.

    If you’re running or jumping rope and planning to go multiple rounds, keep going during the 30-second recovery period, but slow down to an easy coast. Then rev back up when the timer sounds the new round.

    If you can’t do a single serious round out of the ring, you have no business getting in the ring.

    If I have any single rule at the very top of the pile, it’s this one. Drill in rounds, practice in rounds, sprint in rounds. Do all your training in rounds, and your transition into the ring will be much faster and better.

    Yes? No? Maybe? Fire away.

    Your turn. What’s your top rule for boxing training? Leave me a comment below!

    Photo Credit: kizette via Compfight cc

  • Sustaining Damage During Sparring

    Sustaining Damage During Sparring

    A boxing sparring session is radically different than an actual match. If I had to choose between the two, sparring wins every time. It can be unbelievably beautiful to watch, particularly when the two boxers agree — implicitly or explicitly — to maintain a certain flow, to match and challenge each other but not overwhelm.

    You see this kind of beauty in many professional fights, although not as much in amateurs since both fighters are jazzed on nerves and gunning for the knockout. It’s rarely as controlled.

    Dave G. sent me the link to this incredible sparring session between Julio Cesar Chavez Jr. and Vanes Martirosyan, and I’ve watched it several times now, just soaking up how fabulous it is.

    But it’s clearly between pros who are at the top of their game and ungodly strong. Did you see all those uppercuts Martirosyan landed? Holy sh*t. Of course he got his nose bloodied by Chavez, but I’d rather have the bloody nose than have to take those punishing uppercuts.

    And these guys are working for the cameras… This is not your average-Joe sparring session. (I’m fighting the urge to add “Do not try this at home, kids.”)

    Dave asked a question about sparring, as well:

    What is the damage you sustain after an average sparring session?

    I sustained a bloody nose and again a bruised lip this week. Since a lot of the fighters matching my skill don’t show up anymore, it’s slim pickings. People tend to drop out a lot in martial arts I noticed. 🙂 Anyway, if I want to spar I have no choice but to fight against the competitive fighter who is always around. I outweigh him about 30 pounds, but he sure is fast.

    I am aware that you seldom get out unscathed from a session, maybe I should switch to headgear with a nose guard but those seem way too bulky.

    I’d love to hear your take on this!

    The main injuries are fairly simple.

    I often have a headache the next day after a hard sparring match, but it’s usually treatable with an ibuprofen or three. I don’t really count that as an injury, but it’s part of the package.

    My single most common issue is bruised lips, which isn’t surprising, since your lips and nose are the least protected parts of your face when you’re wearing headgear.

    I have a friend (Hi, Eric!) who seems to get nosebleeds a lot, and that’s not too unusual for the same reason. We both hate the headgear with the bar across the face because they are so bulky and they obstruct your vision more, but it’s an option.

    The black eyes are less common, but I’ve had a few. I would guess that heavyweights get them more than lightweights like me; our punches just don’t pack the same kind of power. I got every single one of my black eyes when sparring with a heavyweight partner.

    I also got my broken rib during sparring, but that was more unusual. I’ve only seen that happen two other times in the years I’ve been boxing.

    There are several things that go into determining how much injury you commonly get during a sparring session.

    1. The weight match of the sparring partners. I typically expect bigger partners to control their shots so that I don’t get hurt, but it doesn’t always happen that way.
    2. How hard you both agree to work. It’s best if you can be explicit, but sometimes you think you have an agreement, but one person starts to increase their power. You have to continue to communicate — either with words or with force — or you can get in trouble here…
    3. Experience level (whether or not you have good control of your punches). Newbies are notorious for causing damage, but more experienced boxers should be able to move faster and avoid the damage. Sometimes this works, sometimes it doesn’t.
    4. What kind of gear you’re wearing. Like I mentioned, I hate the face-savers, but I love a no-foul. You can see that both boxers in the video above are wearing groin protectors and both of them got shots that landed on them. These take the edge off rib shots, too, not to mention the dreaded liver shot.
    5. The number and length of rounds you spar. I like being a part of a team session where we’re trading off rounds; you can endure for longer and get a lot of learning in. But there’s great value in sparring the same number and length of rounds you do in a fight, too. I almost never get to do this since I’m usually the only woman in the gym, and men’s rounds are 3 minutes rather than 2. But when I’m getting ready for a match I insist on 2 minute rounds so I can get used to the rhythm.
    6. What kind of trainer you have. Sometimes one or another coach who is overseeing the sparring is out for blood, and is urging their fighter to rip you to shreds. I hate being in that situation, but I’ve definitely been there. I try to avoid this kind of session and this kind of trainer; I don’t respond well to being screamed at. But you do see it in boxing gyms, that’s for sure.

    The truth is that I try to avoid bad sparring matches, although I’ve had a few, and I will go out of my way to set up sessions with partners I know I can trust and get the best work with. I’ll travel to another gym if I can’t get good sparring where I am, and I really try to maintain good relationships with several area gyms so that I can do this.

    I also don’t spar all that frequently, since it’s pretty hard on the body. At my last gym we sparred every Friday, and you better believe there were plenty of people who showed up once or twice for a Friday, then dropped out completely or only came on other team nights.

    There’s a huge (huge!) difference between training for boxing and actually boxing, and it’s definitely a big hurdle for people. I completely understand why lots of people would not want to spar; I really do. It’s not for everyone.

    But I think it could be for more people if gyms would set the right tone, and help make the matches better.

    I’d love to hear what everyone else has to say; leave a comment below and let’s mix it up!

  • What to Expect the First Time You Spar in Boxing

    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.

    Sparring HeadgearHeadgear: 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

  • Overcoming Reluctance to Train

    Overcoming Reluctance to Train

    You might think that I wouldn’t have any trouble overcoming the “I don’t want to work out today” blues, as much as I train. You’d be wrong. For me it happens about once a week.

    However, I’ve been doing it long enough to have developed a few tricks to deal with my periodic reluctance to train or go get my workout done.

    1. Set a goal you can keep

    This is where it all begins. If you work out I’m guessing you have a goal in mind, even if you haven’t put it into words very clearly yet. Do that. Put it into words. Why are you packing up all your crap and heading to the gym every week? Be able to name your answer every time that question shoves its way to the forefront of your reluctant-feeling brain.

    Oh, and make it a goal you can actually achieve. My main training goal is to be in the gym three times every single week. I set it there because I know I can do that, and more. So when I actually train four times a week (which is nearly every week), I feel like I’m going a step above. I’m a rockstar.

    2. Keep your gear always packed, always in the car.

    I can work out any day of the week at any time, because I always have my gym bag packed and ready. Every time I get back from the gym I carry out the sweaty stinky stuff and go put the clean stuff in, ready for next time. There’s also a non-melty power bar of some sort in there, so that I don’t have the “I’m famished” excuse.

    Probably the nicest side-benefit of this is that I can stop at any cool new park or trailhead I happen to discover, pop the trunk, change shoes, and I’m off. Not my regular workout, but a fabulous addition which really lifts my spirits.

    3. Know your biggest excuses, and defuse them in advance.

    My biggest excuse for not training used to be the fact that I hate taking a shower in a crappy gym. The way I defused it was by visiting my all-time favorite luxury bath goods store (Hello, Lush!) and stocking up on the best soaps, shampoos, and other fragrant treats. I put them in my gym bag, and poof! Suddenly I’m looking forward to my shower.

    Now my go-to excuse is “I don’t feel like going.” For this one I offer “discounts.” Rather than my regular 30 minute cardio sprints session, I tell myself I can simply run easy for 30 minutes. Or something similar. Generally what happens is that I get to the gym, get started, and my spirits improve! I find myself rising to the bar, even though I’ve told myself I can take it easy.

    4. Give yourself incentives.

    Once in a while I promise myself one of my favorite post-training treats: a berry smoothie. These babies are better than fried donuts at the fair, in my estimation. One cup of frozen raspberries, strawberries, and blueberries, a scoop of protein powder, a scoop of creatine (on weightlifting days), and a splash of orange juice. If I have plain yogurt, I’ll throw that in too. This is my version of the Scooby Snack, and I will pretty much walk over hot coals to get it. Can you say Incentive Program?

    Another way my husband helps is by offering to meet me after my hardest boxing nights and take me out for a drink. I adore him for this, I truly do! A man and a martini can very nearly heal the world and bring about world peace in my universe.

    5. Keep it interesting.

    If I had to run on a treadmill for 30 minutes I would probably expire from misery. But tell me I have to throw sprints on jump rope for 10 minutes, do spin bike hard for 10 minutes, row for 5 minutes, and run stairs or do box jumps for 5 minutes and I’m all over it. Ta-daa! There’s your 30 minute cardio.

    6. Shorten that damn thing!

    Here’s the deal. Most of you are spending too much time in the gym. This is because you’re slouching around, watching television, trying to avoid the next set, or simply moving too damn slow. If you put some intensity into your workout you don’t need to be there for three hours. Or even two hours. Hell, you can be trained, changed, and outta there inside of an hour if you work it just right.

    Dump your endless, boring, low-level cardio jog for a series of hard sprints and recoveries in whatever thing you do — run, bike, swim, row, heavy bag, etc. You can even incorporate skipping, jumping, ladder drills or agility dot drills. Whatever it is, do it in intervals and do it hard. Recover for 30 seconds or a minute from each hard interval, and start the next one.

    Get a solid 30 minutes in and move on. Studies show that this method actually burns more calories (if that’s what you’re trying to do) than the death-by-treadmill stuff anyway. (Google Tabata workouts and read up on it if you like. Or just ask any boxer in the world.)

    7. Don’t train hard all the time.

    When I have a fight I’m training for I ramp up my workouts 7 weeks in advance. Afterward, I take it easy — I don’t ditch my training, I just relax the pace. I’m not a machine, I’m a human, and I allow myself to enjoy the ebb and flow of a healthy life.

    Nobody stays in peak condition 100% of the time, nor should they. Maintain a solid baseline, and jack it up for the important stuff. That’s what makes staying healthy sustainable.

    What are your tricks to beating the “I don’t want to work out” blues?

    Leave me a comment and tell me how you overcome your reluctance to train.

    Image by Steve Maw on Flickr

  • What I Use My Lingerie Bags For

    What I Use My Lingerie Bags For

    Calm down, I’m not really posting about lingerie.

    But you know those nifty little mesh lingerie bags that you are supposed to use in order to keep your delicate lacy whatevers from getting torn up and damaged by the big bad washing machine?

    Yeah, I use them not for lingerie (I’ve been into “nots” today), but for my boxing hand wraps.

    Wraps are about 15 feet long each. Throw two (or worse, four or six) of them in the washing machine with all your other laundry and you have a recipe for wet, irritating, knotted hell. Which I believe is why many boxers don’t wash them. Ever. Which is part of the reason boxing gyms have such an incredible, dog-you-in-your-dreams, worse-than-high-school stink. WASH your wraps, boys. But I digress.

    This little conundrum is easily solved: when you get back from the gym, toss your nasty, stinky, smelly, sweaty hand wraps in a lingerie bag and leave said bag and its vile cargo in the laundry hamper. When your husband is moving clean wash from the washer to the dryer, he finds a tidy little lingerie bag (which gives him a warm feeling) and sees that you have thoughtfully made his job just that much easier. He removes the (not tangled! fresh-smelling!) wet wraps from the lingerie bag and hangs them over the pull-up bar where someone will find and roll them up for you later (your kids will like this job).

    LeSigh. Housekeeping made painless. Boxing made fragrant!

    And you thought it couldn’t be done.

    Image by kizette on Flickr