Archive for November, 2012

30
Nov
12

Shelito Vincent keeps it perfect …

Shelito Vincent keeps it perfect …

Shelito Vincent, 11/29/2012

From the moment Shelito Vincent (6-0) walked into the ring at the Twin River Event Center in Lincoln, Rhode Island, the night was hers.

The hard-fighting bantamweight who trains under the legendary Peter Manfredo, Sr., dominated her opponent, Canadian fighter Rosie Sherine Thomas who had sported a 2-0 record before entering the ring.

Shelito Vincent making it 6-0, 11/29/12Vincent, showing a savvy, ring acumen and lightening speed took the win with decisive scores from the judges who easily handed her the decision 60-54, 59-55 and 59-55.

This was Vincent’s first six-rounder having previously fought in four round bouts.  This is also her second win in as many months having walked over Louisiana native, Ivana Coleman (0-3) by decision, taking all four rounds.

For Shelito, however, keeping her record perfect has another meaning.

Having struggled early in her life, each day represents another kind of win. It is a triumph over personal demons, run-ins with the law, and a young-adulthood steeped in troubles. Boxing has been part of her recovery — and what a recovery it is for those who have watched her not only defeat her challengers, but the many challenges that have plauged her life.

Way to go Shelito!

 

 

28
Nov
12

Women on fight cards …

Women on fight cards …

Susi Kentikian will be battling Carina Morena this weekend in Dusseldorf, Germany for the vacant WBA Flyweight Championship.

On the theme of professional women’s boxing … I thought I’d check out the fight cards for this coming Friday, November 30th and Saturday, December 1st using the World Schedule on BoxRec.

Should be fun!

 

11/30/12 (Total of 3 bouts out of 26 Fight Cards, No televised fights)

Ginásio Municipal de Esporte Luiz Fragossa, Vila Anastácio, Sao Paulo, Brazil

4×2, Super Flyweight, Michele Da Silva (Debut) v. Fabiana Morais (Debut)

Lugogo Stadium, Kampala, Uganda

4×2, Light Welterweight, Florence Muthoni (4-2-0, 2-KOs) v. Shabilla Namaga (0-2-1)

Eclipse Convention Center, Memphis, Tennessee, USA

4×2, Lightweight, Yolanda Ezell (2-2-0, 1-KO) v. Liz Drew (11-10-0, 4-KO)

 

12/1/2012 (Total 5 bouts of out of 31 Fight Cards, 1 televised fight)

Hershey Centre, Mississauga, Ontario, Canada

4×2 Light Welterweight, Natalie Brown (5-2-0, 3-KOs) v. Tammie Johnson (4-3-2)

Mastergym, Duisburg, Nordrhein-Westfalen, Germany

4×2 Lightweight, Michele Thon (4-0-0) v. Derya Saki (3-0-0)

Anhalt Arena, Dessau, Sachsen-Anhalt, Germany

4×2 Lightweight, Nicole Wesner (Debut) v. Hana Horakova (2-6-0)

Burg-Waechter Castello, Düsseldorf, Nordrhein-Westfalen, Germany

(televised on Germany SAT1)

WBA Female Flyweight Title

10×2, Flyweight, Susi Kentikian (29-1-0, 16-KO) v. Carina Moreno (22-5-0, 6-KO)

Gimnasio Los Naranjos, Boquete, Panama

10×2, Super Bantamweight, Chanttall Martinez (17-5-0, 7-KOs) v. Migdalia Asprilla (9–2-2, 8-KOs) — Main Event

 

And the winner is … Germany with a total of three fight cards with a female bout on each one!

The big female fight, of course is the WBA Female Flyweight title match between Susi Kenttikian and Carina Moreno, which, thankfully, is being televised on Germany’s SAT1, but …. please, this is pathetic.

And here’s a question. Saturday night’s Austin Trout v. Miguel Cotto fight has a total of nine bouts on the card. Given all the incredible talent among NYC professional female fighters, not to mention women fighting out of the Northeast, not one female bout could be added by any of the count them, three promoters involved in putting the fight card together (that would be Golden Boy Promotions, SMS Promotions and Promociones Miguel Cotto)???

Oh right, it’s Showtime, but even HBO Boxing has female bouts on the undercard.

What gives???

 

27
Nov
12

The same old song …

The same old song …

One would think that HollyThe Preacher’s Daughter” Holm (31-2-3, 9-KOs), the current IBA & WBF lightweight welterweight champion, who is set to fight a world title defense on December 7, 2012 against Diana Prazak (11-1, 7-KOs) on a much ballyhooed card called “Fire and Ice” would command the attention of the boxing world enough to land the fight on HBO Boxing, Showtime, ESPN, Fox Sports, NBC Sport, PPV — heck ANY sports network that broadcasts boxing.

But no …

This much-anticipated bout, following on the heals of Holm’s two tough, hard-fought contests against France’s own Anne Sophie Mathis which should have promoters beating down the door at Fresquez Productions will not be aired.

And this AFTER the Olympics when women kicked serious butt and the US women’s team brought home not one, but two medals courtesy of Marlen Esparza (Bronze) and Claressa Shields (Gold).

So what gives?  What’s a “girl” got to do to get some friggin’ air time in the United States?

If fighters of the caliber and quite frankly fame of Holly Holm can’t get a fight broadcast, up-and-coming fighters don’t have a “prayer” to gain any visibility beyond a loyal crowd of followers and the potential for a local cable station to broadcast the fight card and/or video streaming of the event with the hope that it gets loaded on to YouTube.

No one’s talking either.

Meanwhile when it comes to MMA, women routinely fight on nationally broadcast fightcards such as Strikeforce — and even UFC is planning on adding women to their PPV fight cards in 2013. UFC in particular is readying to promote Ronda Rousey, who won acclaim and a lot of fans when she captured her women’s bantamweight championship belt on Strikeforce.  Rousey’s championship fight in August of 2012 also drew big numbers to Strikeforce, no doubt playing an important part in the calculus of UFC’s decision to bring her over as a UFC fighter on a PPV fight card. (See Dave Meltzer’s excellent piece here.)

But not so with boxing.

Is it that the sport itself is too stale and out of ideas on how to creatively promote itself in a way that can include the talent, heart and boxing savvy that women bring to the ring?

Unfortunately, I don’t have a lot of answers — mainly just frustration and disappointment that yet again, a fabulous outing will be lost to viewers aching to watch it unless they can manage to glean a video stream.

25
Nov
12

Heather “The Heat” Hardy to box on December 8, 2012 …

UPDATE:

Heather Hardy with a fierce bodyshot sealing her UD against Ivana Coleman, Credit: Heather Hardy

Heather Hardy with a fierce bodyshot sealing her UD against Ivana Coleman. The win brings Hardy to a 3-0 record. Credit: Heather Hardy

 

Heather “The Heat” Hardy to box on December 8, 2012 …

Having shadow boxed at Gleason’s Gym yesterday for the first time in several weeks, it brings to mind the tremendous effort required to perfect one’s skills. Looking around me I felt humbled by the effort and work of my fellow gym denizens. From 8 to 80 it seemed, men, women and a fair number of kids were working hard to perfect their skills.

The person who struck me the most, however, was Heather Hardy (2-0) who is readying for her third professional fight on Saturday, December 8, 2012 at the Resorts World Casino in Jamaica, Queens, New York.

Heather Hardy Pro Debut, 8/2/12, Credit: Edward Diller Photography, Inc.

Having turned pro in August of this year, Heather is considered a fighter’s fighter. She works with hard-edged discipline and never stops moving. A national Golden Gloves champion, Heather has called Gleason’s Gym her own for several years training with Alicia Ashley, Devon Cormak and Hector Roca. She is also a talented trainer in her own right giving her students a well-rounded workout that includes a fair amount of core work in addition to boxing skills in and out of the ring.

The mother of a seven-year old, Heather works for her family and for the chance to be a world champion. She also works for the love of the sport with an attention to the nuances of boxing second to none.

If you are in and around New York City on December 8th, this is a must see fight!

For ticket information, contact Gleason’s Gym at (718) 797-2872. General admission tickets are $50.00.

24
Nov
12

Off to Gleason’s Gym …

Off to Gleason’s Gym …

 

I’m off to Gleason’s Gym today for the first time in a while. PT has been helpful in bringing back a good portion of my range of motion and strength, but I’m about to put all of it to the test when I work the speed bag for the first time.  Since I’m still only at about 165 degrees (should be well past 180), it’ll be an interesting challenge to say the least.

More than anything, I’m looking forward to seeing my trainer, Lennox Blackmore, who is himself coming back from knee replacement surgery!  Talk about the “blind leading the blind,” but given my state of things slugging s-l-o-w-l-y will be just about my speed.

Coming back from any injury is never easy. If I can use mine as a case in point, I will note first off that as savvy as I thought I was about what the surgery and recovery entailed, I truly underestimated how much it would affect my life and how long the process would take.

Setbacks also happen–thankfully not in all cases, but in when they do, as in mine when my shoulder “froze” it may mean adding months to the recovery process.

Losing the use of one’s dominant arm or other part of the body that is intrinsic to normal functioning for several weeks also takes its toll physically as well as psychologically. If one has been very active, the sight of one’s clipped wing or damaged leg is no fun and no matter how many pep talks one gives oneself, there are those moments.

Mine came when my physical therapist demonstrated an exercise on my body that I literally could not do without his help. It was about 12 weeks into the process and there was something so visceral about not being able to do a movement that had seemed so simple that it released the flood gates of pent-up feelings about the experience.

It was certainly a “first you cry” moment, but in the parlance of my grandmother when it’s all over you wash your face and “do.”

Those cathartic moments are likely a component of any recovery process and if they happen, there’s nothing wrong with giving into it until one can shake it off to go back at it the next time. In my case, I was able to do the movement on my own at the next appointment – and I will say it remains my proudest moment in PT.

Unfortunately, we don’t have Dr. Crusher to wave a magic wand on our limbs to heal our ills.

The fact is as great as orthopedic medicine has become the aftermath to surgery entails a bit of a slog to get back to full physical health.

As experiences go, however, it is certainly far from the worst that life has to “offer,” and each bit of progress brings one that much closer to the goal of regained strength and mobility–all it takes is perseverance, consistency and patience!

23
Nov
12

And now the rush …

And now the rush …

I’m off to work today where I shall relish the quiet when most people are off.  I’ll be able to get through the pile of tasks that always seems to make their way to the bottom, have the chance to catch up on correspondence and the little things like reorganizing file folders on the shared drive that always get in a tangle when I’m in a rush.

My day will be the opposite of the usual hustle of the work-a-day world where the mindset is to operate at a constant double-time pace and even meals are gulped down as afterthoughts to emails, drafting reports and in the minutes between meetings.

For those with four days off this holiday week, today, so-called “Black Friday,” will bring on a rush of a different kind.  Armed with circulars, coupons and for the tech-savvy, Smartphone enabled electronic badges, folks fortified by turkey, mashed potatoes, green beans and pumpkin pie will elbow their way through crowds to grab whatever “doorbuster” prize they can snag with a “beat the clock” mindset as minutes wind down till the sales items switch on and off as if they were nothing more innocuous then the periods of a school day.

Yep it’s 6:00 AM Barbie followed by 7:00 AM Nintendo and so on and I suppose if one has 14 nieces between the ages of say 5 and 7, snagging Barbie at $2.99 a pop versus the usual $9.99 might be worth getting up at 3:30 in the morning to make one’s way to Toys-R-Us or Target or wherever to push through the crowds (yep, crowds of crowds) to grab just the right Barbie in that magic hour between 6:00 and 7:00.

I suppose when it comes to saving $1,000 on a washer/dryer unit that exactly matches the model one has been pining for a 5:00 AM quick run to Lowes makes sense, but otherwise, I’m not so sure.

And then there are the Black Friday shopping tips that one can read up on that give advise on what to avoid:

Among the most common occurs when a consumer is drawn in to the store by the possibility of an amazing door-buster deal. Usually, these deals are available in very short supply. When shoppers are shut out of such deals, sometimes they go ahead and buy a similar item—for a much more expensive price. (Time Magazine)

This year’s permutation has included earlier start times cutting into family Thanksgiving celebrations for shoppers—not to mention “no holiday” celebration for the many workers who need to show up hours earlier.

What it brings to mind is that all of this rush for the supposed start to the “holiday” season has an opposite effect if rather than thinking through finding the perfect gift for a loved one is reduced to a cage-fight reminiscent of an MMA bout.

And I guess that’s my point. This crazy rush to buy things has little or nothing to do with why we exchange gifts or of the notion that we honor those we love by putting thought and care and even a dose of mindfulness into how we go about that process.

Sure, I know that folks have monetary issues and that holiday gifts are often ways of delivering the things that folks need—especially when it comes to clothing for kids who by the New Year period have started to grow out of their Fall clothes. So yep, the arena that is 5:00 AM at Walmart may be a necessary evil for some people. What I would question is why those sales can’t happen anyway and whether our “buy-in” to this annual slugfest hasn’t compromised us to the point of throwing away the meaning behind our gift giving.

The question is, if we all said no to the frenzy, wouldn’t retailers find another way to sell us their wares? I think the answer is yes and for prices that are just as attractive. For my money, I’d rather fight in the ring.

Happy Friday …

22
Nov
12

Giving thanks …

Giving thanks …

Orange Cranberry Relish

Sometimes holidays sneak up as not so much unbidden, but as a surprise that hits one square on with a flood of emotions. It’s that “oh sh*t” moment when the understanding that nothing has been prepped, decisions on what to do haven’t been taken nor the landmines of things like what to do about Aunt Sissy’s nasty yorkie.

Thanksgiving falls into that category. A big family extravaganza with civic rituals that span back to George Washington’s time layered on with all the “blah, blah, blah” about Pilgrims and the Patuxets … or as my fourth grade teacher Mr. Samuels taught us, the Indians.

We have Abraham Lincoln to thank for a national day of “Thanksgiving and Praise to our beneficent Father who dwelleth in the Heavens.” He proclaimed this day in 1863 with the Civil War raging–a not unhopeful event given the circumstance–and the final Thursday in November as the annual date.  In 1939, Franklin Roosevelt who was faced with five Thursdays in November set the date to the fourth Thursday in November hoping to given merchants an extra week to hawk their wares for Christmas.

What it all boils down to–bended history, rank commercialism and the boogie-monster of “family” aside–is the chance to truly take a moment collectively as a nation, as a community, as a family and individually to tease out the good and the bad, the things that are truly praiseworthy along with the not-so-goods that need to be jettisoned.

For those New Yorkers still battered by Superstorm Sandy having come through the storm at all is primetime for taking a Thanksgiving moment or two knowing full well that there are families who were shattered by unfathomable loss. A late season hurricane does seem like an obscene joke especially one that is followed by a snow storm less than a week later.

Still we are good at picking up the pieces and if nothing else the tragedy has created a sense of everyday-as-Thanksgiving as scores of volunteers literally from around the nation as well as around the block have come to the hardest hit areas to work.

This is a long way of saying that the greatest gift of giving thanks likely comes down to helping others and whether through physical labor or a timely monetary donation to fund such endeavors we are truly a community–one that pitches in when we need to even after the bright lights of the media have moved along to other events.

So whether it’s “ugh” time when Uncle Louis prattles on about football or a joyous moment when the newest cousin in the family waddles over to Grandma take a moment to smell the orange cranberry relish and feel free to join me in feeling really, really lucky.

A special thanks to Girlboxing readers too for hanging in lately, it is truly appreciated and know that you have all my best wishes for a happy and healthy Thanksgiving!

 

Orange Cranberry Relish

(1) 12 oz. package fresh cranberries

(1) cup sugar

(1) navel orange

Grated orange peel from one orange

(2) – (3) cups orange juice

Rinse and pick over the cranberries.

Place in a heavy 2 – 3 quart saucepan, and cover with orange juice under medium flame.

Add in sugar and grated orange peel.

Bring to a boil and stir occasionally. (You should be attentive at the stove as the cranberries will start to pop.)

Reduce flame and simmer for about 40 minutes or until mixture reduces and thickens, stir occasionally throughout.

Place in a festive bowl and allow to set and cool (about an hour or so).

Cover tightly with plastic wrap before refrigerating.  Will keep for three – four days.

21
Nov
12

Warrior for a day …

Warrior for a day …

Amazon Warrior, Tondo of an Attic red-figure kylix, 510–500 BC.

Some days are like that.

Arise with a grimace, fighting one’s way through dreamland to hop in the shower, cat nudged perhaps a little more firmly than intended out of harm’s way so as not to be tripped over and squashed.

Next up the whirlwind of coffee, breakfast, family wakey-wakey-time and out the door for the morning-I-can-do-this grind to work and the why-do-I-have-to-be-here mentality that makes every single interaction a grin-and-bear-it moment.

Usually at such times one longs for a huge heavy bag swaying at the threshold of the entryway to one’s workspace, preferably one that screams do-not-enter there’s a warrior inside ready to pounce with the added bonus of getting in some workout time. Or better yet with a hat-tip to a Twitter pal, a Star Trek inspired intruder alert with a phaser at the ready can also do the trick.

At heart is the sense of dissatisfaction with the state of things or as a friend said yesterday too much time pouring over the news and how the sensibilities that ensue can leave one bereft and in misery. Her response is to play with her four-year-old granddaughter. She fits herself into the lovely sweetness of playing dress-up and the humor of late afternoon cartoons, finding herself freed from turmoil and the heightened alert of thoughts and feelings overwhelmed by too many images of darkness at play in the world.

And it does seem true, we live in a constant assault of images and ideas–not so different from the tales of darkness of old which warned our forebears of what happens at the edge of the world where monsters and barbarians lay ready to pounce. In the post-industrial context of 21st Century “first-world” life, however, our cautionary tales are always among us and our sense of who is and is not a monster is framed for us by warring factions that cast a wide net for our allegiance whether it be social, political, religious, ethnic or some other mish-mash of ideas and constructs that has us all at each other’s throats.

My mother would say that when I’m in the “mood” it means I have my umbrella up against the little black cloud that follows me everywhere. She’d tease me unmercifully until I’d either descend further into my mood with a giant throated “leave-me-alone” or break the spell into peals of laughter.

At this juncture, I’m not certain if that warrior-for-the-day feeling is akin to that sort of umbrella defense, but I am quite sure that those sort of moods take on the cast of fighting the world for a bit of peace–and frankly for a piece of the world that’s free of strife, black moods and something akin to a nasty splinter that takes time to work out.

20
Nov
12

Waking up in the darkness …

Waking up in the darkness …

Waking up in the darkness is like greeting an old friend. I am up before the day begins. Showered, dressed and at the ready with the coffee brewing enough before 6:00 AM to be able to accomplish something.

Much of life is like that. Encountering our habits and our dreams as so many disassembled actions which when put together mean something. I’m guessing that intention is what rules. The intention to place meaning on an action. To rise to write or shadowbox or to go for a run, the predawn activities of garbage trucks making their rounds along with one’s fellow denizens of the early morning: workers hastily making their way to 6:00 AM shifts, the Starbucks crew stocking the cases with morning buns, thin, but meaningful crowds of sleepy people breathing just a little bit heavier as they finish their climbs from the subterranean world of the F train.

As with many of us, my days are punctuated by the necessities. The having to be somewheres, the hours of interstitial comings and goings that amounts to bits of drift time lolling on subways, smart phones in hand or going old-school with newspapers or books, or the quiet expanse of thoughts held together by the glue of sudden awareness as stops enter and exit from view.

All of those hours culminate in being tired, in rounding out the day with making dinner and talking across the table with family before running out in all weather to walk the dog or pick-up a forgotten quart of milk. It is time spent hounding children about homework and taking a shower and reminding them to brush their teeth before finally collapsing in front of the television, the brain addled with too much of the day before drifting into uncomfortable bits of sleep, the pants for work crushed in the odd patterns of couch pillows and wondering how it got to be 10:14 PM and an episode of Hawaii 5-0.

Not that today will be so much different, but rising before dawns affords another construct of time. It is a period that belongs to me alone. One that allows me my own intentions before the chore of waking up my daughter begins. I can open the door to her room and call out “time to wake up” knowing that I’ve already accomplished something. While it is not exactly cheating time, as after all it is my sleep that I have curtailed, it feels like a win. A timeout from the usual routine to shake it up somehow. I’ve even managed a minute or two of throwing my arms into the old familiar patterns of a jabs, straight rights and hooks, if only to wakeup the somnambulant boxer who still hides inside my shoulder as I continue PT.

Perhaps because Thanksgiving is almost here, I’m feeling that sense of gratefulness that hits me every year. Luckier than lucky is how I think of myself … and here once more before morning to celebrate.

19
Nov
12

The first time …

The first time …

Boxing at Gleason's Gym. Credit: Malissa Smith

The first time I walked into Gleason’s Gym in January of 1997, I had a feeling of trepidation mixed with excitement and a healthy dose of exhilaration. This was a real boxing gym complete with the sites, sounds and smells I’d gleaned from a mixture of old boxing movies and my imagination.

Having lived on the Lower East Side as a child, I’d grown up watching men play dominos, so as my eyes took in three enormous boxing rings, my ears were honed in on the thwack of a domino clicking on a small table with three men, each looking like someone out of central casting for the part of boxing trainer, animatedly playing the game.

From the sounds of the dominos to the rhythmic beating of heavy bags, speed bags, focus mitts and bodies, each to its own beat punctuated by the loud dings of the ring clock that kept time at three-minute intervals with a warning at two and a half minutes and a ding at four minutes to start the clock all over again, I was hooked.

The sounds alone were an improvisational cacophony worthy of the best of John Coltrane or Rahssan Roland Kirk — still I felt a bit intimidated asking myself why in the world I was there and what had possessed me to think that I could actually box in a real gym. Sure, I’d taken a boxing class at Eastern Athletic Health Club in Brooklyn Heights and yes, I still remembered the old one-two my uncle had taught me when I was twelve, but this was different. This meant that I’d have to be serious, that the years of watching boxing and thinking about boxing were culminating in my taking those first concrete steps up to the second floor of the Gleason’s Gym building in DUMBO long before it was trendy and filled with cute coffee bars and babies riding around in eight hundred-dollar strollers.

If I’d thought I’d have a fight on my hands as a women crossing the divide of what even I thought of as a male domain I was mistaken.  Quite to the contrary, I was greeted by Bruce Silverglade, the owner of Gleason’s Gym who touring me around made a point to make me feel welcome.

I’d come that day to actually box having brought handwraps and a pair of boxing gloves and while I didn’t really know what I was doing yet, wrapping my hands that afternoon was the beginning of a physical and emotional journey I could not have imagined.

Within a week of that first visit, I’d been taken on for 7:30 AM training sessions three days a week with Johnny Grinnage, a trainer of the OLD old school who didn’t believe in new-fangled things like focus mitts or even the speed bag. His idea of training was beginning a workout using a broom stick for stretches before jumping rope for three rounds. From there it was onto a wall bag to learn how to throw a jab, a straight right and a left hook for three rounds. Those early weeks we’d end the training with three rounds walking up and down the slip rope and it had to have been a least two months before I actually hit a heavy bag.

After those first training sessions I took to writing out my punch counts and found myself punching the air and slipping whenever I could. I also found myself tearing up at the oddest times finding in the extension of my body a connection to a physical power I never knew I possessed–one that left me feeling bereft at the years and years of having never understood how much strength I actually had.

It was the first of many lessons boxing taught me and continues to teach me and while I’ve had an on-again off-again relationship with boxing in the ensuing sixteen years, Gleason’s Gym remains my home and the sport still gives me a warm glow that courses through me when I need a dose of something wonderful.

18
Nov
12

Finding the heavy bag …

Finding the heavy bag …

Whether its writing a blog piece after weeks of not touching the keys of one’s laptop, throwing jabs at the mirror after having been away from the gym or finding one’s way back to any of the myriad of things that are important but have seemingly slipped away, all it really takes are those first steps.

In my case it feels as if I’ve been in a mighty slog!

Okay sure, I’m working full-time and hitting PT three days a week for a couple of hours plus, not to mention family, the high school hunt with my daughter and the fact that she just turned 13, but that’s just part of life.  What happens is it gets in the way of those parts of one’s life that count outside of the everyday stuff or the intrusions of say a Hurricane.

So what I’m up to now is finding my way back to the heavy bag. In this case, the heavy bag of whaling on my keys to write the words of daily blog pieces and the words of chapters that’ll eventuate in the completion of my book on the history of women’s boxing.

As things go, I’m in clover–I have health, the blessings of a great kid and loving husband, oh yeah, and a great job–what I also I have is the chance to share it all with you.

Today marks day one of fighting my way back with the hope that all of you are similarly blessed with the opportunity to work it out on the bag.

Thanks for listening!

Girlboxing




November 2012
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© Malissa Smith and Girlboxing, 2010-2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Malissa Smith and Girlboxing with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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