A Ring of Fire
Adventure Girl
By Megan Burkholder |
|
Thumping rap music reverberated around the converted garage's concrete floors and block walls. Exposed pink insulation dangled dangerously close to blinding fluorescent lights. I meandered through the maze of boxing bags hung like so many cow carcasses. No doubt, Old Skool Fight Sports and Fitness Academy was old skool, and bad ass.
"Grab a rope." Owner and trainer Rob Pilger motioned to the hanging jump ropes with which we began the night's conditioning drills. Drills lasted several rounds each, with a loud buzzer indicating each three-minute round.
"I thought I told you to jump rope!" Coach Rob promptly busted me for standing idle; nine minutes of swift rope jumping is absurd, so I rested often. After three rounds of jump rope, followed by four rounds of tedious side shuffles, squats, and pushups, our focus shifted to shadowboxing and bag work. Coach Rob traveled the room and found me.
"You want to rotate your hips when you punch," he said. "Bend your knees a little more. Don't bend over so much."
Coach did not dig my street fighting style.
"The correct boxing technique feels awkward and unnatural at first," he explained, eyeing my unnatural awkwardness.
Somewhere, amid the frenetic shadowboxing, deceptive speed bags, and brutal heavy bags, my calves became screamingly tight. My arms turned heavy and the adrenaline pulsed rapidly, in anxious anticipation of the fight.
ROUND ONE
As I wriggled between the middle ropes into the ring, I saw the brown and red splatters on the canvas floor - dried genetic remnants of fighters past, I presumed. Kristy, my opponent and an up-and-coming amateur boxer, entered the ring. I hadn't expected to face a million-dollar baby that night, and I got nervous.
"Can-you-not-hit-me-in-the-face-'cause-I'm-only-wearing-my-mouth-guard-that-I-wear-at-night-'cause-I-grind-my-teeth-and-not-an-official-boxing-mouthpiece" - I sometimes talk a lot when I get nervous, rapid fire chatter - "do-I-stand-in-the-corner-opposite-you?" - she remained silent...
"Should I not be talking to you?" I asked, having never fought an official boxing match; I didn't know the rules ...
Kristy wore a thick mouth guard, the kind you'd picture Stallone wearing; she mumbled an answer I couldn't understand, also kind of like Stallone.
614's Adventure Girl kicking ass and taking names.
Photo: Derik Burkholder
The buzzer sounded, signifying the beginning of Round One. Kristy stepped forward and I followed suit; we danced a boxing shuffle. She struck first with a right; I deflected brilliantly with a solid wall of two boxing gloves. We danced some more. I jabbed left then right, then hooked left; my hook loitered and she jabbed through it, quick and strong. Her bulbous glove hit my bulbous glove, which was positioned in front of my face in defense. My own glove then punched my own nose, sending pounding vibrations to the brain, my lower lip numbed. I could not believe I'd just punched myself. Dumbfounded, I stepped back near the ropes, out of reach of my formidable opponent (even though my glove was obviously the real danger here). I imagined the scarlet blood oozing down my upper lip. I had always wanted a bloody nose. I felt badass.
Boxing rounds don't end when blood is drawn, however. I pushed myself off the ropes, toward my opponent. Fatigued from the night's conditioning drills, my shuffling feet became sloppy schleps.
"Move to your right!" Coach Rob yelled from outside the ring, but an unhealed foot surgery prevented any voluntary use of my right side. Kristy dropped her gloves to her chest, and my eyes widened at the enticing open target. I jabbed left, then right, hitting her cheek and headgear. Stepping back, she shook her head swiftly and spoke more unintelligible words.
The buzzer ending Round One sounded. Kristy and I took our corners. I waited for someone to wrap a silky robe over my shoulders and squirt water on my face through a long straw. I raised my forearm to my face, to wipe the blood from my nose - unfortunately, there wasn't any.
Where can I be Adventure Girl/Boy?
Pilger's Old Skool Fight Sports and Fitness Academy, 1009 McKinley Ave.
Don't be intimidated: this gym is for everyone. Former professional boxer Rob Pilger offers excellent training to a unique blend of men and (plenty of) women, novices and professional boxers. You will get: confidence, empowerment, improved strength, speed, balance, coordination, and a great ass.
Note: Sparring is optional, martial arts and cage fighting also available
www.osfsfa.com
(614) 940-6049
Greg Greene's Kickboxing Academy
2404 Old Stringtown Rd., Grove City
Realistic self defense combined with kung fu kickboxing.
www.greggreenekickboxing.com
(614) 875-9999
Doug Owens Personal Fitness and Boxing
470 Schrock Rd., Worthington
Fitness boxing classes, group and personal, and sweat box training (where they turn the heat up).
www.dougowenspersonalfitness.com
(614) 844-5658
If you find yourself in a scuffle with our Adventure Girl, make sure you know how to defend yourself! Learn what to do when someone punches you.
Originally Published: December 1, 2009
