Monday night, sparring night. Just Dave and I this evening and after a brief warm up we were straight into the ring for three rounds of sparring. I had new gloves (14 Oz BBE Pro Spar) which felt much more the business than the ones I'd used before. They smell of new leather instead of rotten mouldy fungus too.

First I put in my new gumshield that I'd not heated in boiling water and formed properly, so it cut into my gums which was a mixed blessing as the pain distracted from the fact I could not breath properly with it blocking my mouth.

The first round was pretty good and I felt I could remember everything from my experience with Nick last week. At the end of that round Dave told me I had to be more efficient with my punches - I was throwing about 10 for every one of his. I found out what he meant in the second round - I had used all my energy in 1.5 minutes. I knew I had to be on my toes so I could left jab and get back out of range but my legs were tired and I jabbed and stayed in range and Dave took the opportunity of his shorter reach to deliver some harder than I expected body blows. I landed a good right hand that got through his block and instictively dropped my arms and said "oh sorry!". Before I'd finished the "y" in sorry, Dave responded like a lunatic with with a volley of punches and uppercuts that saw me back to the ropes with nowhere to go. Gasping for air through the gumshield constriction, with bruised ribs and sweat running into my eyes, Jason shouted out there was still 30 seconds to go. The realisation that you are on your own dawns very quickly and there is no choice but to get back into the middle, get a good stance and think. Dave seemed such a nice bloke when we were getting changed, but then again the boxing ring is not a place to discuss the ins and outs of commuting in the Cardiff traffic.

Simon who runs the Trainstation came to watch and laughingly asked if any of my colleagues knew what I did after work and the ironical juxtaposition of the boxing ring and the desk where I was 20 minutes previously. His distraction cost me three heavy blows in the chest and I wondered if Dave was holding back or he really did mean to hit me that hard.

Clearly I have no technique. Other than a good reach owing to my height, and strong left and right punches I have to get over thinking of three rounds the same way as an intensive 30 seconds on a punch bag. I need to feint more to out-psyche the opponent, stay on my toes and get back out of range once I've delivered. I tired myself out in the first round and had little left to give in the remaining too and paid the price.

The rest of the session was shadow boxing, practicing blocks (which I completely forgot during sparring) and then 20 minutes of fitness. When there are just two of you in the training session there is no chance of hiding at the back or having an easy ride and by the hour we were both gasping for breath.

Strange thing is, you go into a training session feeling a bit jaded after a day in the office, a few aches and pains hanging on from the last week, but come out feeling on top of the world - 110% figure of fitness and health (if you discount a bruised gum and red nose which serve as a reminder to learn from mistakes and losing focus).