The Mick To Her Rocky

It has been a pleasure watching the women I have been coaching advance way beyond my skills. Of course, there is that little shitty feeling, but it's easy to let go of - most of the time.

Recently, I had a little burst of energy and thought that maybe I could train harder to at least spar  more competitively with the women I have been training at Wildcard or Outlaws in Reseda.

I tend to find myself sparring again because there is another woman at the gym my size who needs it. I'm usually a little smaller than they are so they can gage how it would be fighting someone their size. I have learned to "play tag" in the beginning to show them where they are open. I'd rather them not risk a concussion with real sparring until their defense is much better.  I have become that boxer- the stepping stone.

Three weeks ago, I started running three miles a few times a week, incorporated weight training and more light sparring. The first thing I noticed was the bad habits coming back - Looking down when I was rolling or how sloppy I was in the ring when someone really challenged me - came at me with intention. As long as I was boxing, keeping my jab out and moving around with people who didn't want to hurt me or charge at me, I was fine.  My reflexes and defense are still there after three years of not being in the ring from training people to block and slip. But, the pressure. Oh the pressure throws me off - I should mention this was pressure from a person 20lbs heavier than me, but when properly trained and conditioned, this was pressure I taught myself to deal with when I was fighting. My punches, which used to be powerful for a 106lb fighter are now light tags and I can't legit keep people off me. Everyone is at least 10 to 20lbs heavier or 10 to 20 or even 30 years younger. My muscles have thinned and my energy is not what it was.

I recently turned 52 years old.  Besides trying to accept my face and body changing, (Not easy) I have bouts where I get physically exhausted if I try to train like I used to. One day running and sparring and doing mitts means the next day lying on the couch drained with regret for overdoing it. Since my primary focus these days is writing and developing creative projects, there is no room for days like that.

I always tell my friends to remind me not to train like that anymore and to not let me think I can fight again because it takes so much out of me, but for some reason there is still that fighter who gets encouraged that day when I'm sharp with my defense, hitting the mitts hard with good form. There is that little spark inside of me that wants to challenge myself, test my mettle. I get excited watching experienced boxers with beautiful technique get in the zone of slipping, countering, rolling, doing fancy footwork and putting together smart combinations. I want to get in there with them. Experience has shown me that if I really put in the work, I can get much better. But at this point, why put in the work? What do I have left to prove?  In 2015, at 49, I won the National Golden Gloves in the Masters division, my first time flying across the country to fight in a tournament.

But the bigger win was before that.  I had to overcome panic attacks in the ring from sparring. I used to shake and cry after rounds and had no idea why.  I learned I had PTSD and somehow was able to work past that in order to have 12 fights, winning 8 of them. What is it inside of me that wants to mix it up with the young guns?

Now I truly understand why boxers don't retire when they should. The regimen, comraderie, body conditioning, and focus gives you a purpose like no other. Having blind faith in yourself that eventually pays off is intoxicating.  But as I watch a woman I started training 3 years ago, move like a gazelle, holding her own with a pro boxer, I feel so full inside. Another woman I just started training 8 months ago, is hitting harder than ever and is finally slipping and rolling under big punches and coming back with her own combos. She has the fire that I don't have anymore and it's okay. It's time for me to be a proud mama. To be the Mick to her Rocky.

I'm about to start a new film project that is going to take every little ounce of energy out of me.  It's going to require the fighter in me as well as the filmmaker because I have to get justice for someone.

This will be a mental and emotional fight and I know I still have that in me.