“I really don’t know where to start...”
That’s what I told my husband who encouraged me to start a blog about this brand new world that I’ve stepped into: the world of boxing. He said, “Just start with day one.” So here it goes.
I walked into a Gym called American Pride for the first time on September 3rd, 2019. I had been doing a fair amount of stalking via social media and found that this gym was likely going to be my best bet if I wanted to get ring ready, which I do. Boxing has been a secret dream of mine since I was a kid, and there for a good amount of time, I kept that dream a secret from myself. Funny how movies like Rocky can motivate you and make you remember, “Oh hey, remember that dream? I’m a grown woman now, and I want to do this... maybe I should do this... Um, God? Should I do this?” I asked God that question 50 million times until I finally accepted that it was something I was supposed to do.
I stepped into American Pride that Tuesday night ready to sign up for a free week thanks to Coach K, the owner, and a gym member named Rusty who recommended I ask about it. To say I wasn’t scared at all would be a lie; I was terrified. It was all fun and games imagining the results of an unforeseeable amount of time of hard work and dedication, but to go in there, day one, not knowing anyone outside of messaging a few people once on Facebook, was utterly terrifying. “Okay. Pray for me. I’m scared.” I told Chris. Being the loving husband he is, he assured me that I would be fine and that he’d see me again after class.
I didn’t even try to be cool or anything, Coach K saw me, and I know this because he shouted, “Hey! I see you!” The first thing I told him was that I was scared and had no idea what to expect, I think he probably appreciated my honesty, so if you’re looking to start boxing for the first time, please, don’t go in there acting all big and bad. They will see right through you.
“You know how to wrap your hands?” Coach K asked. “Nope.” I said and laughed, “I’m a brand, spanking noob!” I still don’t know how to wrap my hands right. If God would grant me a few extra hours, I could sit there and figure it out and start looking legit out of nowhere, but right now I’m still trying to figure it out. So Coach K wrapped my hands and knowing that I was going into this on blind faith that God really did tell me to start boxing, he showed me the 1,2,3,4,5,6. Dude. He didn’t tell me that these punches had numbers. When the other coach, I think it was Coach Kris, came up and started the class, he threw out all these numbers, and I had no idea what was going on. I just jabbed and crossed the entire class. It wasn’t until maybe four lessons later that I learned what these numbers represented and how they were placed, and I learned that because I Googled it. I could have learned that in class, but no, I was too busy trying to figure out how to punch correctly and keep up with the class.
Why was I trying to keep up with the class that had years of experience on me? Because I was being stupid. That’s how I got hit in the nose for the first time a few sessions ago. The coaches encouraged me to learn at my own pace and to not worry so much about what the class is doing. To just make sure I’m doing it right before I try to do it faster. Please, take their advice.
Something happened on my first night, and in the nights following that, I didn’t expect to happen; I’m making friends. It’s not like in the movies where everyone in the gym is a big butt hole to each other; everybody wants everybody to do their absolute best. It’s about leaning on each other and pushing each other to become greater than what we are. They all know that I’m new and that I’m a slow learner, and their patience with me is amazing. It’s like they know that I really want to be good at this, and they are more than willing to help me get there, no matter how long it takes.
Final words of encouragement for this post: Don’t quit. You’re going to look like a fool and suck that this if you’ve never done sports or anything like this before. But I have to believe that even the best fighters fell flat on their bums before they got good enough to get in the ring. Stick with it. You wanted it in the first place, so just do it. I’m going to get good one day. You are going to get good one day. Just keep pushing.
HIT. THAT. BACON. BUTTON. (You'll see it on the screen) I really need gloves that don't swallow me whole when I put them on like the ones I rent in class. Please. I am but a poor writer, and ya girl needs gloves.