There's been quite a gap since I last updated this blog, but don't worry, I've kept up the training but just not got around to writing about it. The tempo at the gym has upped a bit due to the cardiff exhibition fight which is 2 weeks away now so everyone's fitness levels (and aggression levels) seem to be on the up. Little Nick's son Ash who is 18 has joined us. He is a southpaw like Joe Calzaghe which is very confusing to fight, and hard not to step on his feet but he is fast and sharp but easy to read.
Thankfully I've missed a few sessions which have given me time to recover from a broken nose - a glancing blow from Geraint whilst I was on the ropes (head down like it shouldn't be) cut me but seemed to do more damage internally. Whatever matter lies beneath the bridge of my nose now clicks to the press and has a tendency to block completely allowing no air to pass whatsoever which is making sleeping well very difficult, waking with a bone dry mouth gasping for air. The bruising on my nose lasted about a week, but this and another black eye prompted me to invest in a headguard as I can't go on getting smashed up like this.
1st September - Monday night
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I had a strange feeling tonight beforehand and arrived 30 mins early to warm up. Jason arrived and said that Dave had pulled out of the exhibition and Geraint said he was talked back into taking part after getting last minute worries. Yaz had disappeared and some of the fighters from Steve Robinson's gym have backed out too.
Sparring with Ash was good and I found that a good way to get into a southpaw with open guard is with a right hand lead. Probably one of my best punches ever landed square on his forehead sending him reeling backwards. I think the headguard is a bad thing - it made me sloppy and I took more risks and took blows to my head I would never have risked before, plus it was distracting when it slipped up or down.
A round with Bowen was a good one from my point of view, though he was having a bad night and on the defensive and easy to beat. He's a lot smaller than me for sure, but he dropped his hands and did not take advantage of any easy body shots to me which would have put me out. Putting my left hand out like a feeler, almost touching his forehead seemed to unnerve his advance and made keeping distance easy - not to mention doubling the speed of a left right combination.
My last round back with Ash and he seemed to be going all out. He is fitter than me (and 20 years younger!) and the fight was twice the speed of usual. Whether this made me tired, or my headguard-induced laxness made me careless but he got some vicious left hooks across my face, one of which I could feel made contact with my face. The round was over and I reluctantly looked at myself in the mirror. Yet again I was bleeding - this time blood trickling out of a curving slit in my left eyelid. For fuck's sake - the headguard was meant to avoid this and here I am with the most dangerous damage yet sustained in over 9 months of boxing.
I felt devastated, angry, upset and frustrated. Jas said I was up next for a round with Geraint but I excused myself on account of my eye and left the gym. Driving home through torrential rain I felt inconsolable and devastated. Something in me had said this was one damage too far and I should hang up my gloves once and for all. Remembering how I was the new boy back when I started without any clue, to my dedication to training twice a week, almost without a break, so that I could be proud of my progress, skill and fitness was emotional. The concept of throwing in the towel felt like leaving a good friend and as I got onto the M4, the visibility was almost zero partly due to the spray from the incessant rain, and partly from a few tears of frustration and sadness mixing with the blood and stinging open cut.
When I got home I initially felt I had let Jason and the other lads down by quitting. Moreover I had let myself down in breaking my resolve to fight in a public exhibition and put on my best ever performance. All those months of effort, training, fitness and metal focus on boxing skills seemed to me wasted.
Now a few hours and a couple of glasses of red on, I feel somewhat relieved of the incessant pressure in the back of my mind that the next training session was only 1 day or 12 hours or one hour away; that I had to hydrate and focus (which is hard going straight from a desk job to the boxing ring, believe me!). Although my nose is still not 100% and my eye is burning, the thought of no more injuries, particularly smashed ribs that made even the simplest thing like turning over in bed an elaborate and excruciating exercise, sound quite appealing.
I will miss the feeling of bearing down on an opponent in the ring, driving him onto the ropes and then having the choice of delivering hooks to his head or his body, or let him come back onto me with left rights, giving me a chance to counterpunch over his jabs with my particular strength of a left jab left jab right hook combination. Nothing can match that exhilaration and it is on that high that all the tension and apprehension prior to a fight lives a thousand miles away.
Becoming a boxer has given me some valuable lessons in life, not just in sport and now that I have commited to stop, I thought I would write them down for the record.
First, boxing is certainly one of the hardest things I've done and from what I hear, one of the hardest sports to participate in. Stepping into the ring is like stepping into another world - a lonely one where all you have is your skill and fitness (or at least in my case, relative levels of both, the latter usually failing first, closely followed by the former!). It is not, as many of the uninitiated would thing, a violent sport. Sure there is physical punishment, but the camaraderie between sparring partners and the mutual respect between them is a great thing. Saying this, I felt some of this was lacking in my final round with Ash which is how things turned out for the worse.
Second, I have felt what it is to be taken to the limit, and then with 30 seconds left in a round, to have to dig deep and find the commitment, energy and drive to finish off. On this basis I think that "last mile" lies in the mind and with the right amount of willpower, you can always finish.
Third, it is true: you do not feel pain in the ring. Anyone who has had the lack of anything better to do and bothered reading any of my previous blog posts will notice that I have had pain in many parts of my body but I have always managed to overcome and fight.
Fourth and probably the biggest lesson to take out of this is that when you think you're at the limit of anything, be it a boxing round, a run or something boring everyday task... don't slow down for the finish line - imagine that you have to repeat it over again. Speed up, find endurance and get on with it. With boxing there is no room to relax and no second chances. Extrapolate this to everyday life and you will find you can exceed your potential.
So, as the title of this entry says: That's all.
If anyone wants to buy an as-new Cleto Reyes headgear, worn only once, it'll be on eBay tomorrow...
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