A free trial at the Title Boxing Gym was certainly a trial requiring Focus and pain tolerance. But it wasn’t really free. It costs sweat and belly pain. Let me explain.
First of all, I arrived late, but not to worry, The Smiling assistant manager wrapped my hands with swift efficiency, and put on the 6 lb boxing gloves.
I was then assigned to a 100 lb hanging bag and watched as the mature crowd of men and women, many over 40, begin smiting their bags with the punch combo given by the instructor.
Free trial? can’t be that intense. It’s not like you're actually sparring someone, right?
Well, I felt I performed admirably.
Okay, the bags swung and hit me unawares. Twice. The first time my sloppy guard failed to keep me from getting hit in the head clicking my teeth together. Klunk. Stunned.
The second time, the back got me in the belly on the backswing. Woof. It took a great deal of pride not to grunt aloud and disappear to the water fountain while trying to breathe.
And to think: I wasn’t sparring against a living person, and I was already getting whooped. Note to self, keep your wrist straight when striking a punching bag. The weighted gloves and the hand wraps gave me a false sense of confidence and I paid for it dearly.
With poor body mechanics, My wrist was slightly bent when I hit the bag. Click, I actually heard my wrist make that sound. I felt it. my eyes started to water as I rubbed my wrist praying it wasn’t broken. It wasn’t.
The lady who was next to me beat her bag with a ferocious intent that could only be reserved for someone she hated deeply. seeing her in action, I was glad there was no sparring sessions.
Her form was perfect. The hooks she smashed the bag with were angled to dig under the lower ribs and Crush organs. Each chain rattling Hook was powered by the turn of the waist, hips and Drive of her legs. She wasn’t just hitting the bag: she was trying to put fist-sized holes in it and rip it from the chain. Each blow sounded like a gunshot.
I looked over to where some of the men were and I thought of a time I saw a walrus in a zoo paddling a multicolored beach ball with its flippers. That’s exactly what it looked like. Some of the men Grimaced, grunted and slapped the sides of the bag as though they were applying stickers to it. Hardly any power, no coordination. Just grimacing, sweating, heavy breathing and grunting.
I imitated the lady to the best of my ability.
In between rounds, instructors had us squat, lunge, and do ab work. Torture.
The trial was a severe one. And while no money was exchanged, technically making it free, I paid with sweat and sore muscles and the realization that fitness is no joke and requires a strong mind to deal with the pain required to transform one from feeble to tough. I see why boxers make such good money. This was not for the faint hearted.
I certainly hoped no one saw me getting punished by the bag.
This is not to endorse a free trial at Title gym, but if one opens in your area, and offers a free trial, give it a shot.
Try it, you might like it.
Read this post and more on my Typeshare Social Blog