Boxing For Three Years: Lessons From The Gym

I've been boxing for 3 years now, and I was inclined to reflect on some of the things I've taken away from it so far.

When I step to the heavy bag, it usually means one of two things: I’m at home, or I’m at Old School, my boxing gym. At home, it represents discipline, the fight to stay motivated and practice good form when no one’s watching. At the gym, it’s a pressure point, because you’re under the eyes of your coaches and because nearly every session begins, comes back to, and ends here. In all ways, the heavy bag is king. It’s not about speed; it’s about form and power.

Wrapping my hands = F U C K I N G T H E R A P Y. For 35 years I thought my anger was something to be corrected for. It was only after I started training in a combat sport (I think others offer the same here) that I realized it can be a resource if I learned how to direct it. The spillover effect has been a significant reduction in expressed (and felt) anger outside of the gym. I have sparred hard only 3 times in my 3 years, most recently in late July. Sparring is different. It's excitement, focus, energizing, and it also puts butterflies in your stomach! It's fucking great. To have a place where I can fully let down my social guard but damn sure better keep my physical guard up is better than any alcohol, weed, or idiotic street fighting I've ever experienced. It creates confidence and peace I've never experienced elsewhere.

Now at 38, I train with different tools than the younger fighters. My gas tank is my biggest struggle, hurt mostly by smoking weed (I'm quitting). But my focus and perspective are different too. So when I walk away from a training session, I don’t measure myself against anyone other than myself. Against my own hour: Did I throw as hard as possible every time? Did I slip every time I knew I should have? Did I push myself for faster rounds of jumping rope at the start of class? I know I can hit like a jackhammer. I know I can be dangerous if I keep stacking discipline on top of power. But what I carry with me out of the boxing gym is the simplest thing: steady, slow progress.