Tag Archives: working out

Living each day.

Whether it is the dangers of the ring, such as the one that has seen Ishika Lay on her long road to recovery from second-impact syndrome, or something closer to home, such as the sudden illness of a relative or friend, living each day to its fullest is an important mantra: even when that means walking away from the things we love to do.

That means not only pursuing your dreams, but knowing when to sit out because the risks are too great.

Have a headache after sparring that won’t go away? Go and get it checked out and follow the mantra: when in doubt, sit it out.

I know we all tend to ignore the long-term effects of our actions or even cast a “blind eye” to their very existence, but headaches and the like are also symptoms of acute problems that can be dealt with much more readily early on. Sometimes it is only a matter of facing down the demons that seem to haunt us when we contemplate the “why” question that prevents us from taking the next step — say to a doctor’s office. Not to do so, however, is to play a dangerous game of roulette with one’s own health and well-being. It is also an example of breaking a cardinal rule that can best be translated as cheating at solitaire.

Here’s another one: Do you have indigestion every time you eat a slice of pizza? Or in the absence of that, cough after every pasta or pizza meal? Has it seemed to escalate at night lately, even when you don’t eat pizza? Go and get that checked! And P.S. … stop eating pizza and pasta till you know what’s going on. At the very least you might have GERD (Gastric Esophageal Reflux Disease), but it also might mean (depending on your age), that you are starting to see changes to the actual make-up of your esophagus (Barrett’s Esophagus) which can lead to “no joke” complications.

I bring this all up because so many of us “live” with things that we think are nothing that end up being a big something in a hurry when we least expect it. When that happens the effects are often horrendous, both to the individual undergoing treatment and to family and friends who suffer along with each bump in the road.

Athletes presumably have a great sense of their bodies – certainly of the cause and effects of too little sleep, poor eating habits and so on; however, that doesn’t always translate into evaluating the relative risks of injuries or of even recognizing that the twinge in a shoulder is really a rotator cuff injury about to blow.

That’s when we all have to take some responsibility not only for our own health and well-being, but for what we see going on around us by taking to heart the “if you see something, say something” mantra. Sure, you might be accused of putting your nose into someone’s business, but you well might recognize something that your sparring partner just doesn’t see.

Part of living each day certainly translates into living it with gusto, but we also need to be cognizant of all the aspects of our day, even the things we’d rather ignore. The problem is the things we ignore have a way of slamming us in the face whether we acknowledge them or not, and for my money, it’s better to face an issue head on than wait for the unexpected surprise.

Wordless Wednesday, 2/1/2012, Summer Boxing.

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Wordless Wednesday, 2/1/2012, Summer Boxing.

Summer Boxing, Gleason’s Gym, 2011

Wordless Wednesday is a group of bloggers who give words a rest once a week.

Facing the new.

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Facing the new.

Marlen Esparza, Photo: Rose Arce/CNN

I liken a fight to a blank page. Entering the ring, a boxer’s body and mind stand at the ready as so many remembered movements much as a writer sits poised with words and syntax. It’s what happens next that is remembered. The boxer will engage in an improvised pas-de-deux with her opponent while the writer will engage her thoughts and ideas to fashion words into hoped for coherent and readable prose.

Given that I am wearing my writer’s mantle today, I am trying to work through the momentary panic of that blank space. As with any creative endeavor — whether the improvisation of a boxer’s dancing feet or a trumpeter’s trill — the way thoughts form on the page seem miraculous. Yes, they are based on deep knowledge of words and syntax and perhaps even a clear “plan” of attack likened to a boxer’s plan to stick and pull back, or the trumpeter’s competencies with B-flat. However, the blank page of a writer can also represent the open road without a road map. It is the moment of facing down newness. Words without a plan. A space that can take a writer anywhere the imagination feels like going.

Such is my day today. My writing has no agenda. Like shadow boxing on a Monday night without a trainer, I can take it where ever I want it to go. I can stick with one thing or write tons of fanciful little ditties. Such is my luck today — even as I swallow back that momentary taste of bile that anxiety always seems to bring!

Big days, little days.

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Big days, little days.

Some days are filled with big things and others have the “usual suspects.” The same it seems with working out: peppy for two or three training sessions in a row and then the dogs. We’re talking no energy, no pop and not so much going through the motions as just having no energy to get where you want to go!

I had one of those mornings at Gleason’s Gym today. Sure, I did my sweet 16 (four rounds each of shadow boxing, pad work, double-ended bag and speed bag), but did I ever have to work for them. Lennox kept shaking his head saying, “wake up, girl!” And maybe that helped because I did manage to bring it towards the end with two hopped up rounds on the double-ended bag and some serious da-da-da-da / da-da-da-da on the speed bag.

In analyzing it later, I realized that part of the problem is I’m still not doing enough during the week to keep the momentum up for a meaningful Saturday session. A clue on how to do that in an otherwise busy life came from my old Peace Corps buddy Mark who had a post on Facebook today proclaiming that he’d hit his goal of 1,000 sit-ups in a week.

I thought, “1,000!?! That is a lot!.” Breaking it down to daily increments, however, brought it more in line with what actual humans can achieve! Reading further, Mark wrote about his formula for success: starting at just 130 for the first week until he had brought himself along to 1,000.

Given that I struggled through my 100 sit-ups this morning at the gym (having only done 20 all week) — it occurred to me that if I followed Mark’s formula of defining weekly goals, it might get me off my tush and into a regular daily sit-up routine. Not wanting to set the mark too high for myself the first week, I’ve settled on accomplishing 300 between Sunday and Friday. That means 50 a day — meaning about 10 minutes! Seen that way, there is no way I shouldn’t be able to achieve it. The same thing for push-ups — or my version of them which means on my knees or against a bar at this point. Sure, I did 20 today at the gym (in two sets of 10 each), but it was hard and strained my shoulder. So there again, I’ve decided on setting a goal between Sunday and Friday. I’m staring off with 60, that means 10 a day — or another 5 minutes a day at most!

Summed together, if I give myself a mere 15 minutes a days, I can meet my weekly goal and have sacrificed nothing. No excuses here!

Kudos to Mark for a great idea!

Hey pretty and other stories from the battle of the bulge!

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“Hey pretty,” and other stories from the battle of the bulge!

A Girlboxing reader wrote about the problem of looking into the mirror and shaking her head a bit at the body that stared back at her. That is a hard one to reconcile. There we all are working our bottoms off, eating one pea at a time and going through all the truly difficult work-out stuff, yet because we don’t look like the women adorning the cover of Self magazine we steel ourselves with a sharp intake of breath every time we look at ourselves in the mirror.

It reminds me of the Mighty Aphrodite speech I used to give my friends back in the day when I was — heck, in my early 40s and really full of things! (That’s another story for another day.)

I was going through a breast cancer scare at the time (luckily negative) — but went through one of those moments after the first mammo, when air seemed to be sucked out of the room into a kind of hush as the Radiologist and the Technician came back in to take yet another film. Days later in the waiting room before surgery to remove a bunch of nasty looking calcifications, my two oldest forever friends we’re trying to distract me with tales from their love lives (never a good thing, I can assure you).

Now both were in my estimation beauties. One had long blonde hair a body honed by a lifetime of tennis, racquetball, running, weight lifting and the most perfect shiksa legs you ever saw. The other one had more of an “exotic” beauty and happened to be in one of her thinner than thin stages. To remind you, we were all in your early 40s and yet all these two gorgeous women could talk about was how they hated dating because eventually they’d have to “show” their bodies to a new man. What?!?

Girl in the Mirror, Picasso

Well, to say that I launched was an understatement, my basic point being you are Mighty Aphrodite, hear you roar! Truly. That body staring back at you in the mirror, the one with character and stories and loving feelings. The one that bore children or heartache. The one that fought illness. The one that gained and lost. The one that worked out at five o’clock in the morning and ran in the rain. The body with hints of ripples on your arms from slinging dumbbells or the fabulous movements of a Zumba class is, my friends, BEAUTIFUL.

Even when you hate that extra tire around your middle or my personal favorite, the “You’ve become one of those women,” statement from your doctor. In my case it meant confronting how I’d become my grandmother. However, there is still deep beauty in the saggy skin and cottage cheese that combine to make YOUR fabulous thigh. And to channel my grandmother even more you can go through the three stages of grief according to Lillian Miller: first you cry, then you get up and wash your face, and then you do. None of the seven stages nonsense for her. Life is too damned short and has a way of making you 57 before you know it.

So Girlboxing friends please give yourselves a round of applause for where you are in life — and the next time you look in the mirror blow yourself a kiss and say, “Hey pretty,” it’ll work wonders for you! I know that it did me.

Getting back in the swing!

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Getting back in the swing!

Whether it’s perfecting your left hook or flexing your mind (as in keeping a “daily” blog) – getting back to a regular regimen is tough going when you’ve been away from it for a while!

Having stepped into the gym on Saturday for the first time in three weeks was a case in point. I’m nursing sore abs, a creaky shoulder and a mindset that is less focused on perfecting the minute shifts of tuned-up training, than just getting to the gym at all.

So my job is to push my momentum, meaning, getting myself back on a weekly gym schedule that *builds* rather than maintains! I’m also trying to talk myself out of the neat excuses for not going such as, “I’ll be out of town on Saturday” or “I’m tired” or “it’s raining out” … you know the drill!

I can say the same for writing! When I don’t write every day I get out of the habit — so, starting today, I am bound and determined to get back on the writing stick! And yes, I’ll even give myself some slack for having finished up my degree, et alia, but a daily blog is just that, a daily blog. That means putting fingers to the keyboard with a mindset that can get past the range of reasons *not* to do something.

Meanwhile, it’s 2012 and I’m already over three weeks behind in getting my resolutions in order for the year! So here goes!

1. Write a daily entry for Girlboxing!

2. Gain more strength, endurance and flexibility. Being in my late 50s means I need resistance training and a lot of it to keep my bones strong. I also need to do more aerobic training, and yoga. That means getting back to a training schedule that has me doing at least one thing a day and on some days all three!

3. Eating better! Yikes. This one is tough. Having been diagnosed with LPR (Laryngeal Pharyngeal Reflux) and GERD (Gastric Esophageal Reflux Disease) PLUS having Barrett’s Esophagus (the cells in the esophagus near the gastric junction actually CHANGE due to acid erosion), I’ve been living a low-acid/low-fat life! What I have to get to, however, is better balance in selecting meals and foods and how they are combined. This one is a tough to sort out – and I’ll actually do a column on it sometime soon, suffice to say that I’m getting there. I’ve lost nearly 25 pounds since the change in my eating regimen in July 2011, now the trick is to go the rest of the way (another 10 pounds), while continuing to build muscle (which has suffered as late) so that when I eventually meet my goal, I’ll be a healthy and toned – rather than depleted and weak.

4. The next project: now this is the tough one! I’m thinking book and just have to move into the space by DOING rather than angsting about it. And therein lies the sticky problem: getting to the DOING part. Again, it’s a matter of starting and once in the habit continuing the process until it is concluded. Easier said than done? No, probably not ‘cause we all have goals that we set and follow. It’s that pesky issue of getting started!

What it all comes down to for the year: Doing!

So, day one in my reforecast New Year means putting the fingers to the keyboard to say thanks so much to my Girlboxing friends for listening and HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

And how nice that it happens to coincide with the Chinese celebration of the Year of the Dragon!

GONG XI FA CAI

In celebration of the art of boxing.

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In celebration of the art of boxing.

Mischa and Kristina

My schedule has been hectic and fraught with the conflicting needs of family, job and thesis writing, so getting to the gym yesterday felt triumphant.

Lennox Blackmore and I had miscued on our time which meant I did most of my work out on my own starting off with my usual four round sets: shadow boxing, heavy bag, double-ended bag and speed bag. When Len arrived, I pulled out four more on the pads working my jab-jab-right combination plus the right-left dig, left hook combo. My last was to work my way through 80 ragged sit ups — but they did count.

The point of writing about it is less to “crow” about boxing for a solid hour — and more about the work itself and the work of everyone in the gym. ‘Talk about inspiring, everyone and I mean every last person was pushing themselves and hard. That meant young kids, older kids, men and women of a “certain age” and everyone in between, not to mention the boxers sparring with speed and tartness prepping for upcoming bouts!

It got me to thinking that with all the controversies of late whether it’s bad refereeing, bad judging, obnoxious fighters mouthing off unnecessarily or the specter of female athletes wearing short mini skirts in their debut at the 2012 Olympics, the other side of boxing, the miraculous side is all the time spent in the gym, working.

That is what boxing is, isn’t it? At its essence? The magic of aligning the mind and the body to perfect exacting movements so that when a boxer enters the ring there is an opportunity to soar as an improvisational artist at the height of his or her craft.

As with jazz musicians who spend hours a day practicing scales and sonorous trills to keep their lips, fingers, hands, arms, legs and every other part of the body in condition, so does a boxer spend hours at a time perfecting the body and the subtle movements necessary to ply the art.

That doesn’t only mean round after round of throwing the intricate combinations, but understanding the subtleties of the pax de deux — after all, boxing is not a solo sport, but an intricate dance. No tag team, it is a one-on-one battle of skills, stamina, ring knowledge and what we all call heart. It is also performance art as there is that extra shot of adrenaline that happens precisely because it is a competition on a stage bounded by the four sides of the storied boxing ring.

And that is part of it — despite the hype and the crappy stuff that seems to accompany the professional side of boxing and even the amateur side; the ring itself is an arena of magic. It is the place where all of those hours of gym work and road work and mental work thinking about boxing gets played out in the brief snippets of time between the bells.

I know that boxing can be a heartbreaker — as terrible and cruel as any indifferent lover, but it is also a place of work and pride that at the end of the day every practitioner can feel triumphant about.

So yes, while the split decision of the latest Manny Pacquiao versus Juan Manuel Marquez championship bout may feel like ashes in the throat to some, we should also celebrate the hard work of boxing, it is after all what brought those two remarkable athletes into the ring in the first place.

Fighting the numbers.

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Fighting the numbers.

I went “natural” on my hair color a couple of years ago.

It was a combination of really hating all those chemicals on my hair and scalp tinged with a bit of laziness (every four weeks is a drag) coupled with the alternative — monthly appointments with a colorist which are e-x-p-e-n-s-i-v-e, especially if you go for double-process (color plus highlights!) Not to say that I was particularly bad with coloring my own hair — I did make it look pretty good with out the tell-tale home-brew color of really dark ends or the weirdest shade of red you’ve ever seen — but after a while, the silvery flecks got longer and longer at the roots until one day I just screamed enough at myself in the mirror.

To enhance my marker of aging, I do admit that I primp a lot in front of the mirror when it comes to getting the silvery white hairs to shimmer just so as a way of counteracting any perception that the crop of white hairs nudging out the chestnut browns is in any way a factor of tired-old-age. What I did notice in my recent experiment with growing it longer, was that the shimmer wasn’t quite so shimmery and those white patches were beginning to look as if they were definitely gaining the upper hand — something I am not quite ready to embrace just yet. So this week I went back to really short hair with lots of product to bring out the shine.

I bring all of this up because the white hair on my chestnut mane (what’s left of it) seems to be indicative of other changes as I make my way through the latter part of my 50’s. As an example, I applaud my recent loss of 12 pounds thanks to low-acid-diet living, but I still have some serious kilos to go if I’m to become youthfully svelte again. And yes, I can actually run a mile and keep going — albeit slow and steady to save my creaky, crackley knees — even with months of fairly vigorous workouts at Gleason’s I still start to crash somewhere in the middle rounds before finding my way back to renewed stamina and energy. This last is interesting because I used to be able to get into condition much faster and easier.

If there’s a cautionary tale at all in this for my younger friends out there — it is to consider keeping fairly steady with diet and exercise over the whole of your life, and as for my compatriots of a certain age, keep at it! Whether we like it or not things do change, all we can do it mitigate what we can with things like eating healthy foods, keeping our bodies lithe and strong through regular exercise and strengthening, keeping ahead of ailments large and small, and perhaps most importantly, keeping ourselves feeling great with whatever it is that gives us that extra bit of shimmer.

Boxing and me …

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Boxing and me …

I’m at the official start of writing my thesis today. It is the culmination of my course of studies towards a Master’s Degree in Liberal Studies. I bring it up because my thesis topic is Boundaries in motion: Women’s Boxing. The study will take a look at how women’s boxing is changing notions of the meaning of being “female” or in other words, what women are and what they are capable of.

Having been born in the mid-1950’s in the era of girls wearing dresses all the time — and I mean all the time — the idea of athleticism, muscles and so on were a seeming anathema. To the extent that there were “Lady” athletes that were at all visible to my young eyes, they seemed to only be slim-hipped tennis players, figure skaters, skiers and gymnasts — and while there were women’s roller derby, softball and bowling leagues, those sports were barely a blip on my consciousness.

Muscle-bound women were certainly viewed as something other — and in remembering back to my early childhood years on the Lower East Side of Manhattan, organized sport itself was entirely non-existent except for boy’s basketball and boxing at the local Boy’s Club on Avenue A and 10th Street. The sports I played, such as they were consisted of punchball (with a spaulding ball or a pinkie), Newcomb (with a giant red playground ball), King (or Chinese handball), bottle caps, stoop ball (a pinkie bounced off a stoop, with a “base” counted for each bounce before the ball was caught), playing catch, riding a bike, roller skating (with metal skates attached to my sneakers) and general chase games.

The fact was, these weren’t even considered sports. These were things we just did either during recess (punchball and Newcomb and chase games) or as general play on the block. My only experience of “organized” sports was at camp, and having gone to a “leftie” summer camp, our idea of sports was groaning through hot afternoons on the sports field playing pathetic versions of baseball (and fighting off the gnats), with some passable basketball thrown in, albeit mostly among the boys.

Getting back on topic, as a young girl, I loved boxing, but had no clue that it was ever something that I could actually do. I didn’t get to watch the sport much, so as a substitute, my brother and I watched professional wrestling with the likes of Bruno Sammartino and Gorgeous George.

By the mid-1960’s I was a confirmed boxing fan of Mohammad Ali and remember names likes Floyd Patterson and Sonny Liston as icons to be venerated though I never actually saw them fight until much later. I just liked the idea of them and learned names from the snippets of conversation between men and boys on my block.

Fast forwarding to what seems like a million years later, it took me until 1996 to actually walk into a boxing gym. Having done so, and like many men and women before me, I fell in love with boxing almost to the point of tears at just thinking about it. In those early forays, I used to keep a log of punch counts (so many punch combinations x so many repetitions per round) and would get all sorts of heart fluttery every time I got near the gym.

More to the point, it began to change how I felt about myself. I was 42 then — and in decent enough shape for someone who’d never been athletic except for stints of hour-long runs a few years before. Beyond the improvements in physical conditioning, it felt great to feel my own power, something I’d spent a lifetime denying. The most liberating sensation, however, was the physical act of hitting — and I mean really hitting with all the force and torque of my body. That was something I’d been denied all my life — the freedom to let things go with an explosive pop accompanied by a guttural grunt of release.

That certainly wasn’t in the manual of things girls could do when I was growing up and how extraordinary that I was 42 years old before I was even aware of having missed out.

Female boxers in Afghanistan, Credit: Molly Hennessy-Fiske, Los Angeles Times

In thinking about my own experience, it occurred to me that other women, younger or older, athletes or non-athletes, may also undergo transformative experiences as they box. Those experiences have multiplied times all of the women who participate in the sport whether as professionals, amateurs or recreational boxers like myself. Somewhere buried inside of those experiences are the transformations that affect how everyone sees and thinks of women who box and whether those interpretations are positive or negative, the changes that women make for themselves are here to stay.

Maybe that’s why I smile so much every time I read about the Afghanistan Women’s Boxing Team.

Tricia Turton: Boxer, Coach and Evangelist for Boxing!

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Tricia Turton: Boxer, Coach and Evangelist for Boxing!

Tricia Turton, as an Amateur Boxer in 2003. Photo Credit: Ellen N. Banner/The Seattle Times

Tricia Turton (8-4, 3-KO’s) took up boxing after her successful amateur career as a member of the United States Women’s Rugby Team making it all the way to the World Cup. She has subsequently had a fabulous career in amateur and professional women’s boxing, but has found her true calling as a coach and trainer at Cappy’s Gym in Seattle, Washington.

Recently, Tricia was kind enough to enter into an email correspondence to talk about her life in boxing and her feelings about the sport. Her interview follows.

***

For Girlboxing readers who may be unfamiliar with your career as a professional boxer, please tell us how you got started in women’s boxing? What drew you to boxing in the first place? What keeps you in the sport now as a trainer?

A friend and previous rugby teammate told me about Cappy’s Boxing Gym and what a great workout it was. I was retiring from my rugby career and wanted something else to do. After attending my first lesson, I was hooked. Coach Cap asked me if I was interested in competing and the rest is history.

***

You had a 16-2 amateur boxing career including winning the 2004 USA National Title in the 176 lb.+ weight division. How did that desire to box motivate you to take the plunge from amateur to professional?

In 2004 I was 34 yrs old and the Masters division did not exist. I had quit my job at United Parcel Service to commit to a coaching career at Cappy’s Gym. But, I had a lot in the basement about competition and wasn’t ready to give it up, so turning pro seemed like a logical step.

***

You fought some pretty tough opponents including Mary Jo Saunders and Holly Holm, and you even fought Dakota Stone who just got the decision against Christie Martin. What was it like to fight at that level of boxing?

Tricia Turton (L) sparring with Dakota Stone, Photo: Ellen N. Banner/The Seattle Times

Not only did I fight tough opponents, I fought in their home towns for 10-round title fights!

My biggest opponent and toughest matches were versus Lisa Holewyne. The first match was only my 5^th fight and around her 40^th. It was also my first main event at home and my first 8-rounder. I won our first bout by unanimous decision and she accused me of running. We re-matched and I was motivated to take away her excuse. I stood toe-to-toe with someone who outweighed me by 10 lbs. and again won by unanimous decision.

It is more about the training to fight at the 8-10 round and title level than it is the actual fight. This realization has motivated me as a Coach more than ever. At Cappy’s another motto is, “Training is Your Trophy.” My fights versus the other top boxers in my weight class solidified my belief in this motto.

***

You retired from fighting in 2007 after your loss to Miriam Brakache having fought twelve professional fights. Looking back on it now, do you feel you left at the right time?

I definitely left at the right time. Balancing coaching and competing was too difficult. I needed to pursue one with my all. After my performance with Brakache, Coach Cap and I decided that it was time to take on matches outside the ring.

***

You’ve been at the legendary Cappy’s Gym for some time and it seems as if it has become a real home for you. Tell us about the gym and what its like to be a trainer there.

Tricia Turton, training a boxer at Cappy's Gym

I love my Coaching Job at Cappy’s. We have a rigorous coaching training track – at least 1 year before you can become a coach. We work with Boxers from 6 years of age to 70+ and we train competitive and recreational boxers at all levels. Our specialty is our Everyday Fitness Program, where we teach people how to train and take on personal matches in life.

My entire life has changed because of boxing, and specifically from becoming a coach. I have hit the mat, gotten back up and become stronger for facing all the matches that I have experienced in life and coaching. I have found my home and my career at Cappy’s. There is a lot of pride and passion in our Gym and neighborhood, The Central District, and I love being a part of it.

It feels natural to express myself through coaching. One of our coach training principles is to take on yourself what you ask your boxers to do. This training principle helped me in my transition from competitor to coach. Through coaching and training at Cappy’s, I learn a lot about taking out personal stuff so the boxers can be themselves.

***

Switching gears a bit to talk about women’s boxing in general, I’ve read that you were on the US Women’s National Rugby Team. That got me to thinking that there must be some challenges for women crossing over from a team sport to an individual sport such as boxing. It would be great if you’d talk to that for those readers who may be in a similar position.

Yes, I played for the U.S. Eagles Rugby team and played in the 1998 Rugby World Cup. It was an awesome experience and I still tear up when I think about standing on the field listening to our National Anthem. My rugby team experience prepared me for boxing. I have found that boxing is much more a team sport than an individual sport. You don’t do anything alone, even after the bell rings.

At Cappy’s we model this concept with a team coaching staff. If it weren’t for the team, getting in the ring would be near impossible. I do think that team athletes can cross over to boxing, because, if you have the mindset of training, a lot is possible. Everyone can find a home in boxing and boxing training. At Cappy’s we call it a Boxer’s Lifestyle. We also believe that a Boxer must live a Boxing Lifestyle to achieve the elite status of going to the Olympics.

***

Do you think that the inclusion of women’s boxing in the Olympics will change the sport irrevocably or will there still be space for women athletes to cross over to become competitive amateurs and professionals after having trained and competed in other sports.

As the sport progresses, I believe the level of competition will require that women athletes start out younger.

***

For those women reading this who may not be experienced boxers, what advise can you give the novice who is just coming into the sport? Are there any specifics related to general fitness, diet and so on that you feel it is important for women to incorporate into their boxing regimen.

The most important thing is finding the coach and training style you want to work with and stick with it no matter what. I found my home as a boxer and as a coach at Cappy’s and the possibilities are endless. The second thing is, give over to boxing. If you are going to get in the ring and give and take punches, then boxing is all you can think about — it has to be your lifestyle.

***

For the last question, I’ll note that you obviously have tremendous love for the sport of women’s boxing. What has the sport given you and what are you trying to give back?

I have tremendous love for the sport of boxing. I appreciate that Cap and Cappy’s have given me a career that I can believe in. This belief in boxing helps me grow and increase my overall life skills. I want to give back so that others have the opportunity to follow that path.

***

If you happen to be in the Seattle area, be sure and stop by Cappy’s Gym to shout out a big hello to Tricia, Cappy and the rest of the crew. They are located at 1408 22nd Avenue, Seattle, WA 98122. Telephone: (206) 322-6410.

Great gym morning!

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Great gym morning!

There’s nothing like a great morning at the gym to start off the day. This morning did not disappoint either — between working out with Lennox focusing on pushing off the body to throw a right dig, straight right, left hook combination and watching everyone work through the heat and humidity of the gym to shake of the summer doldrums, the focus and energy seemed to shake everyone awake.

It’s as if everyone felt inspired by the work of everyone else too. Punches seemed a little bit crisper, body work a bit more dug in, and the sparring seemed more like dance than boxing. Even the mirror work felt fun with lots of talking and instruction through the rounds and a genuine feeling of camaraderie to add an extra something to everyone’s work out.

I started off with a slow and steady one mile run and then did my usual sweet 16, though I admit to flagging hard in my third round with Len. Still, I pulled it out and after allowing myself a round off, started to work the double-ended bag with renewed vigor especially went it came to doubling up the left hooks.

All I can say is count me lucky to have had such a great way to ease into the last weekend of summer.

Beautiful day, beautiful box, but the work continues.

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Beautiful day, beautiful box, but the work continues.

So there I was this morning on my fast walk to Gleason’s Gym feeling mighty pleased with myself. I’ve lost about seven pounds since starting on the low-acid diet, I had lots of energy and I felt “back” in terms of my physical conditioning.

There is, however, always something — and yes, I got through my sweet sixteen and even a super fast round on the double-ended bag, but when it came to the abs workout, it all fell apart.

Yep, folks, if it’s not one thing it’s another and in my case, my next crucible has to do with my abs workout. Gone are the days of 100 sit-ups followed by 100 crunches followed by another round of 100 sit-ups. I was lucky to do a full 25 sit-ups followed by 60 crunches (in to 30-crunch sets). Talk about an “ugh” moment.

But hey, not everything works out all the time and while I’ve come along enough to feel the fabulous pop-pop-pow of my doubled-up jab/right hook combination, the situps will come along in due course too.

If you’ve been away from abs for a while too — here’s are a nice beginner tutorial from the UK, and a nice basic abs workout you can do at home or at the gym.

Mid-summer and remembering what hot means!

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Mid-summer and remembering what hot means!

As with most parts of the United States, Brooklyn is baking under the sun and about to get a lot hotter today. At Gleason’s Gym after work yesterday, I found myself dragging and remembered what that hot, funky mid-summer gym smell was! Pretty ripe — but as I worked out and my muscles loosened to a gelatinous mass I also remembered why I love a summer workout.

Keisher "Fire" Mcleod-Wells

Still, it was hard to get the rhythm and I never did get my usual overheated combinations on my combinations going, rather I found myself throwing punches at a slow and steady pace … meanwhile, as one of my fellow gym denizens remarked, women actually out-numbered men at the gym, including Keisher “Fire” Mcleod-Wells sparring and working out in preparation for her upcoming NY State Championship bout on July 30th. That alone was inspiring enough to keep me going for a couple of more rounds — that and a look at just how hard everyone was working.

And that’s the thing isn’t it. So much of what we do is in relation to the folks we share the mirror with. Checking out moves, stances, combinations, cute tricks, and level of effort. To me that’s what the real hot means.

Whether it’s catching a glimpse of Fire in the ring as she works her magic or on any Saturday morning when all three rings are filled with sparring, some of it skilled, some of it less so, and some of it showing all the beauty of an improvisational pad de deux; catching the pulse of the boxing all around us is a boost like no other.

I wished I had more energy yesterday to match some of the effort, but even at my plodding pace, I felt the heat of the place as so much boxing energy winding its way through the gym as a giant wave capturing us all in its wake.

Girlboxing

The wit and wisdom of the ring.

Tag Archives: working out

Early spring grumps …

Wordless Wednesday, 2/22/2012, Training.

Living each day.

Wordless Wednesday, 2/1/2012, Summer Boxing.

Facing the new.

Big days, little days.

Hey pretty and other stories from the battle of the bulge!

Getting back in the swing!

In celebration of the art of boxing.

Fighting the numbers.

Boxing and me …

Tricia Turton: Boxer, Coach and Evangelist for Boxing!

Great gym morning!

Beautiful day, beautiful box, but the work continues.

Mid-summer and remembering what hot means!

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