Days #11 and #12: Now We're Getting Somewhere!

Day #11: I weighed myself before my workout... and I've lost six pounds since starting! That's exciting! The other day I was a little discouraged by just two pounds, but six.... now we're talking! I did two miles warm-up on the treadmill and was a little more motivated to be punching the bag. I also threw in some kicks, trying to simulate what it would be like to be hitting a person. Again, this is all very new to me and perhaps it's not even close to what it will be like, but it has been very helpful. I've competed in a lot of different sports, but they were all team sports and none in which my opponents goal was to hurt me, or I to hurt them. I'm not scared, not even close. But I am nervous. I'm nervous because I don't know what it's like to walk down an aisle to a ring to music I selected and a crowd watching me. I don't know what it's like to stand in the center of said ring listening to instructions by a referee. I don't know how to celebrate after I win... though I am planning on knowing exactly what all those things feel like. For the time being, I imagine them while I am training and sometimes that helps pull me through. After my work out and then work, I went to see Chel, who helps me stick to my diet by making me an amazing fish dinner...

Day #12... and also a spinach/egg whites omelet. She's wonderful. Sometimes I find it difficult to stick to my diet when I'm not training that day. It's hard to be focused ALL the time on a particular goal, but I suppose that is what I have to do to make it happen. In a way, I have to treat it as if I am training all the time. I am definitely excited to see where the whole journey takes me. Go me!

Day #10 "All this for two pounds? Really?"

This was what I said to myself when I stepped on the scale. I lost two pounds. *sigh* I know I have a long way to go before the fight and a lot more hard work ahead of me, but I was SORT OF hoping the weight would just... ya know, FALL off. No such luck. I am trying to keep in mind that I've gained muscle, so evening out isn't too bad. It was, however, another mental challenge to step back into the workout knowing what I'd done thus far hadn't really caused me to lose weight.

I set the heavy bag up in the group ex room, turned the lights down low and the AC up high and went to work. I think today was probably one of the more helpful of workouts because hitting the bag gave me some sort of idea what it will be like to hit a person (though I'm sure its not all that close to the same thing). Its very different than hitting pads on the hands of my trainer to either side of her head. I was alone, so I spent a lot of my time figuring things out mechanically and putting together a series of strikes that made sense to me, mixing things up and trying new things. It was a good workout, though I hope Day #20 brings me closer than -4 pounds!

Days #8 and #9: On My Own

Day #8 was hard. Not because I was pushed to the limit or because I had to persevere through a tough workout. It was hard because after a week of pushing my body far beyond what it's been through before, I hadn't lost one single pound of weight. If you're just joining me on my journey, my goal is to lose between 30-40 pounds of fat before my fight and trust me, I have it to lose. Truth be told it was hard to convince myself to eat nothing but fish for lunch, strap on the boxing gloves and push myself. I'm impatient like that, I guess. But I did... I ate nothing but fish for lunch, I put the gloves on and pushed myself again, trying to remind myself that someone would be trying to kick me in the face and if I didn't hit them before they hit me, I would lose. Sure, finishing the workout was hard, but not as hard as starting the workout.

Day #9 wasn't as tough because, although I had to wake up early and leave my sleeping girlfriend (and nobody looks more cozy when they're sleeping) to drive to Orleans to kick my own ass. I did three miles on the treadmill in "rounds" of three minutes with my hands up and then did a lifting circuit. It was the first time I lifted since I started training. I had been lifting prior to ... but when I wasn't able to lift my arms I stopped. Again, it's been tough to motivate myself when I haven't dropped any weight but I know I will see results soon. Plus, I have my first sparring session coming up soon, though I don't know who it will be against or when it will be, I've been told I'll be throwing punches at a real life human soon (who will also be throwing punches at me). So I guess I'd better keep pushing myself! Go me!

Days #6 and #7: Walk it Off

My girlfriend has this very gentle way of telling me to stop whining. She doesn't come right out and tell me I'm being a baby, she gives me the same advice I got in years of playing youth sports; "Walk it off". That phrase used to only carry meaning when I would get hit in the leg by a pitch or twisted an ankle going for a rebound because, ya know, it was in my LEG and therefor walking made it better (if it wasn't seriously injured, and it never was). Now Chelsey tells me to "walk it off" even when I have a headache, I want ice cream instead of a protein-filled meal or, in this case, my arms feel like they're going to fall off.

Monday (Day 6) was spent doing three-minute "rounds" of an exercise with a minute break in between, to simulate the time I will have in the ring. The first five rounds were spent kicking my soccer ball to learn how to kick humans. At one point I kicked and I felt a sharp shooting pain in my hip, my first bodily instinct was to fall (and possibly cry like a little girl, whatever) but instead I thought "walk it off" and I kept going through the end of the round. Turns out I'm OK (I can only assume, I'm not a doctor) even though it still hurts a little, but it sure hurts a lot less than it did when it first happened. The last six rounds were spent shadow boxing. When I felt like I couldn't even hold my arms up to block my face anymore, I kept telling myself to "walk it off" ... and even though that didn't totally work (sorry, babe) it did remind me that people I love will be watching me during this match and I certainly can't make a fool of myself, so I kept going.

Today (Tuesday, day 7) was spent with Barbara doing, what else, punching. Now when I woke up (way earlier than I wanted) I didn't have much life left in my arms or shoulders. I had a tough time even driving to the gym. When I got there and she said "OK gloves on, we're punching" I thought for sure they would detach from the rest of my body and die a slow painful death right there on the gym floor. They didn't, of course, but as I was pushing myself more and more and "walking it off" I felt a BURN like I've never felt before and unfortunately I only made it through four rounds. Barbara made sure to remind me that if I looked this way in the ring everyone I cared about would think I was an idiot. Very motivational. No, I'm not being sarcastic... seriously, I don't want to look like an idiot. So I walked it off, however at some point, my arms just quit on me. Literally. I told them to punch and they just like... were on strike or something. I said "punch" they said "bite me" and that was the end of that. I was disappointed in myself even though I know I didn't quit. I wanted to keep going but my body wasn't having it!

I stood there in the middle of the room feeling like I let her down, let myself down, wishing my body hadn't quit on me when she said, "I want you to go do 10 laps in the parking lot. Don't run, just walk, but keep up a good pace... walk it off". And I did.

Day #5: My First Day of Rest

Yesterday was the first day since I started that I haven't trained and let me tell you, I NEEDED IT! The previous night, Barbara called and asked how I felt. I said I was feeling great. She suggested I take Sunday off. I said, "Are you sure?", because at the time I felt like I could go again the next day. But when I rolled out of bed on Sunday morning I could not have been happier that I didn't have to train. I couldn't lift my arms up past 90 degrees and even yawning hurt! The previous four days caught up with me REAL quick! It was nice to have a day to myself to officially start my new diet. And as hungry as I am ALL THE TIME... eating all the time definitely has its downfalls.

First and foremost, I am NOT a fan of eggwhites, I learned that yesterday morning. I am a fan of food that has FLAVOR, but I had them for breakfast just the same along with some cucumber/celery/strawberry/carrot/apple/grapefruit juice. (it tastes way better than it sounds) An hour later I had a protein shake and two hours after that a piece of chicken with a baked potato. Three hours later I had a piece of fish with broccoli and another protein shake before bed. I was full all day! Not to mention the fact that I was actually supposed to have SIX meals instead of FIVE. *sigh* I went to bed relatively early and woke up feeling awesome and ready to go for Day #6. I wont lie though, I'm still pretty sore. Off to the gym, wish me luck. Go me!

Days #3 and #4: My Arms/Shoulders HATE Me!

"You don't know what you've got till it's gone", says Joni Mitchell... and boy was she right! I know this because today I can't move my arms. I do a lot of things with my arms, include WALKING, which is sort of weird when you can't swing your arms! Yesterday I did six miles on the treadmill holding my arms up in a face-blocking position holding 1-pound weights. No.... I did NOT make it the ENTIRE six miles, because I had to put them down for a few seconds every minute or so. But just when I thought yesterday was about all my arms could take, this morning happened. I woke up extra early to head up to Eastham, where I spent 45 minutes doing nothing but punching. About a billion (give or take) jabs, crosses and hooks later, I couldn't even lift my arms up to drive back to Orleans! But as my girlfriend often suggests, I walked it off.

Today was TRULY the first day I was tested and pushed. I was punching at moving hands, listening to my boss and trainer, Barbara, who will be in my corner telling me what to do during the match, with sweat pouring off my face, not allowed to stop. Jab, jab, cross, hook! Jab, jab, cross, hook... more times than I can count. And she's got just about the fastest hands on Earth, so often times she would pull away my targets and come at me with a counter punch. Of course, she didn't HIT me ha ha! Or I might not be writing this now :) She just wanted to let me know when I was keeping myself open for a free shot for my opponent. I learned A LOT... I sweat A LOT! At one point I looked at the pads on her hands and saw they were all wet. I thought, "where did that come from?" And then I realized the sweat was coming off my head, onto the gloves and transferring to the pads. Um... gross! But awesome, just the same. I earned every bit of pain I am currently feeling and I love it!

I took a quick cold shower, jumped into a 104 degree hot tub, took a nice long shower and worked six hours. I also went food shopping for my new diet. If you know me, you know the word "diet" rarely seeps from my mouth, unless it's "I don't diet" :) But I have a goal and this is how I reach it. So what can I eat?: Egg whites/dry toast and fruit for breakfast. Some combination of chicken or fish, potatoes or rice and vegetables for lunch and dinner. I have to drink two protein shakes a day, drink a gallon of water (which I already do) and take a few vitamins/supplements along the way. ZERO alcohol. Not a cheap food bill! But when I am a lean, mean, punch-broads-in-the-face machine... it will be well worth it! Big love to my wonderfully amazing girlfriend, Chelsey, who is excited to help me stick to my diet and has been nothing short of perfectly supportive! (even though she tells people I am training to be a cage fighter ha ha ha!) Go me!

Day #2: Windsprints are Not My Friend

When I first heard yesterday's workout would be another five miles (at a slightly higher incline) I thought, "Well I did it once, I can do it again", even though I was a little sore from the previous days' workout. Until she added, "Oh and go into the parking lot and do 10 windsprints after". *sigh* it begins!

The first couple miles were ok. I watched Sportscenter on my personal viewing screen on the treadmill, was running near a few guys participating in Eric's boot camp and was motivated to make it through without stopping. I managed to go the first two miles without a break, but miles 3-5 were killer! That voice started to come back telling me it was ok to quit, I could win any fight without cardio training... she was persistent, but I fought off that obnoxious voice tooth and nail. Plus, how would I feel after I quit? I would be disappointed in myself, knowing I could have kept going and didn't. So I did. I did four miles and then "took a break" by heading into the parking lot to do my windsprints. I never said I was a genius. I imagine mile number five was so terrible because I had already sprinted in the parking lot. My heart rate was through the roof and I had to get back on and finish. But at that point, not even that little voice wanted me to quit, so I pushed through and finally finished.

Today's workout starts in just under two hours. Go me!

Day #1 - Five Miles of Hell

Welcome to my blog. I'm writing to document my road to the ring. I found out on Tuesday that the gym I work at (Willy's Gym) is hosting some boxing and kickboxing fights this summer. After our meeting, my boss, Barbara Niggel (Her Profile), says "Gee, I wish there was a ladies bout on the card, that would be awesome!" If you know me, you know I'm a wise-ass, so the first words out of my mouth were, "I'll fight" ... and not in an excited "I really want to fight" voice but in the "look at me, I'm an idiot" voice. She offered right then and there to train me. I said no because my first instinct is to run away from a challenge of that magnitude, but the more I thought about it, the more the idea seemed like a good one. So I called her up later that day and asked if the offer still stood, so here we are.

Day #1 wasn't bad... it wasn't great, but I'm still alive. She called and told me to do five miles on the treadmill at an incline of three. I haven't done five miles of anything except maybe window shopping since I was a senior in high school. Because I had already done two miles on the AMT (Sort of like an Elliptical) I finished out the last three on the treadmill like she asked me to and let me tell you, they were the hardest three miles I've ever done for a few reasons.

First, I kept trying to tell myself "I am training for a fight". Except I've never stepped inside a ring before let alone across from someone who has every intention of separating my head from my neck, so it's hard to imagine what it is I am working towards. Second, I am all by myself. Nobody is yelling at me, screaming for me to pick up the pace, work harder, don't give up. Just me and that little voice I've always had in my head that says, "Your knees hurt, you have shin splints, you can just do an extra mile tomorrow to make up for it, it's OK to give up now!" That voice is a WICKED JERK. But she's also very convincing, or at least she was until yesterday when I started to ignore her and work through whatever imagined (or real) pain it was I was feeling. Truthfully, I couldn't be more proud of my first five miles, even though it took WAY longer than I wanted it to. But day #1 is in the books and I am one step closer to achieving a number of goals. Go me! :)