I just turned 35 and I've never had a physical fight in my life. (We are discounting that teenage hair-pulling stuff with my sister.)
Up to a couple of months ago, I trained only once or twice a week, and strictly for fun. And I still smoked, drank heavily and generally did bad things.
Until recently then, it’s fair to say I was a way off what you'd call physically fit.
The smoking is over. The drinking too, mostly. But I still have a way to go on the fitness front and, honestly, right now I can't take a punch for shit.
Added to my handicaps, I'm a sensitive soul and somewhat cautious by nature. And I tend to over-think stuff. None of these are the traits of a natural fighter!
And yet, despite all this, on April 20th 2012 I’m stepping in the ring at the famous York Hall in Bethnal Green, before an assembled audience of family and friends, plus a bunch of drunken strangers baying for blood, to box some random girl...
It's probably not going to end all that well.
Nonetheless, here is where I'm loosely documenting how one prepares for such a spectacle....
And fingers crossed that this story has a happier conclusion than the Hilary Swank film.
Up to a couple of months ago, I trained only once or twice a week, and strictly for fun. And I still smoked, drank heavily and generally did bad things.
Until recently then, it’s fair to say I was a way off what you'd call physically fit.
The smoking is over. The drinking too, mostly. But I still have a way to go on the fitness front and, honestly, right now I can't take a punch for shit.
Added to my handicaps, I'm a sensitive soul and somewhat cautious by nature. And I tend to over-think stuff. None of these are the traits of a natural fighter!
And yet, despite all this, on April 20th 2012 I’m stepping in the ring at the famous York Hall in Bethnal Green, before an assembled audience of family and friends, plus a bunch of drunken strangers baying for blood, to box some random girl...
It's probably not going to end all that well.
Nonetheless, here is where I'm loosely documenting how one prepares for such a spectacle....
And fingers crossed that this story has a happier conclusion than the Hilary Swank film.
I’ve been hanging out far too much lately with Essex geezers who actually do say stuff just like this. Really. Today one of the old school boxers at the gym (retired: 40 fights, 11 KOs) got in the ring to spar with me: “Let’s just move around a bit.” (They all say this. It’s a lie. It always ends up leaving bruises.) Whereupon he taught me how to get in close, then use my elbow, and if possible head, ideally when the ref can’t see: “bosh”. Brilliant.
1st April 2012
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