When Worlds Meet the Moment

After a ten year sabbatical from fight training I returned to the “ring” this evening at Title Boxing, which just opened on Nine Mile Road. The ring is actually a mirror lined room evenly peppered with hundred pound heavy bags like meat carcasses in a freezer (thank you Rocky) with well hidden speakers pumping bass jams into the arena.

Let me tell you, first, that yoga is the only exercise I do – ever. Sometimes I walk but more to get outside than for fitness because I do not walk very fast. I saunter and sometimes take my mala beads or a notebook, inspired by Mary Oliver to do so.

So, for ten years or so I’ve done plenty of yoga poses, flow, sequences and whatnot. In the last four years or so I have deepened my relationship with breath practices and meditation. I have not been running, walking up or down a treadmill or taking Zumba classes. There just isn’t enough time in the day to do all my delicious yoga stuff and also be Billy Badass.

When I went into the gym today I felt a rush of nostalgia infused with adrenaline and the unique feeling I’d forgotten comes from the experience of kicking something’s ass. When we approached the desk a very pleasant lady asked what we usually do for exercise, which was nice given she formed her question with the assumption that we did something. My sister told the lady that I teach yoga, which was nice of her since I didn’t want to brag.

There is a semi-circle of benches wherein the trainer wraps our hands so we don’t get blistered in the gloves. While the bearded former Marine spins the blue wraps across my knuckles there was a surreal moment of different times in my life meeting in one singular moment. This moment, of getting my hands wrapped is not different from unrolling my mat, not different from opening my computer to write.

I did ask him, pro to pro, if this is his only job. I salivated when he said “yes” this is his only job. I could have foregone the class and picked his brain on how to make the fitness industry work in one’s favor. He seemed chatty enough but there were other folks to wrap and he still had to show us where the water fountains and bathrooms are.

When the warm-up began I started to get a little nervous. It all started to come back to me – the jumping jacks, jumping rope, oh mah god the push ups! Damn! This is going to be more than just hitting the bag.

I wonder when I’ll start to sweat and if I’m going to need my little sister to carry me out of there. If this happens, I might regret telling those people where I teach. I would hate to give Uru the reputation of housing weak ass yoga teachers.

Round 1. I love it. I am not sure what my sister thinks but we smile a few times in the mirror after we discover we might live.

Round 2. A combination of jabs and hooks, my favorite. I observe my breathing, accelerated but steady. My face isn’t contorted and my feet feel light. This does not hurt my knees, though I want to kick the bag even though this is not a “kicking the bag” class.

Round 3. Still not dead. In fact, quite alive thankyouverymuch. I catch a glimpse in the mirror and see my shoulders are buff from exertion. Yoga shoulders, I might add. Yoga breathing, I might add. Yoga focus, I might add. Kinda Yoga Badass.

Round 4. I realize my sister signed us up for eight rounds. I realize, also, I do not have speed. I start to remember that speed is where I struggled and failed. My hands are not fast and neither are my feet. But I can get very low for my upper-cut, so there is that.

Round 5. There are sixty seconds between each round in which we do some exercise but also rest. I think about getting water but am afraid because I had noodles kinda close to this class and don’t want to throw up. I still want to kick the bag.

Round 6. I might have kicked the bag. But only a little bit and just with my knee, so everything is okay. My stance is left-handed, so my right foot is forward. I remember that I was left handed when I began writing at an impressively young age and my well-meaning great-grand mother made me use my right hand so that I didn’t grow up to be a witch. She did not manage to effect my boxing stance, probably because she didn’t yet know I had one.

Round 7. Freestyle. I like this because we get to use our own combinations, but still no legs. I might have to go back for a kick boxing class, if my knees can take. Due to a longtime running habit my knees get crunchy when the weather is cold. It is either from the running or I am an old lady, I am not sure.

Round 8. I am SO not an old lady. I did finally get a very small sip of water and I did not throw up. The last round is a bunch of speed series at which I fail miserably. I sort of stand there bopping the bag with my gloves repeatedly.

The cool down is actually abdominal conditioning. No one does abs like Kali Natha Yoga, so this is, if not easy, then not the worst of it. Since I have been practicing Kali Natha yoga with Swami I have the strongest abs. This is all very spiritual and very convenient  when one ends up in a boxing class.

Finally, downward facing dog for some reason. It is awesome. I want to hang out there for many, many breaths but the class is over. The music is still blaring but it would seem strange if I hung out in down dog when everyone wants to leave.

A few things I learned; yoga is also conditioning. I do not know how it works because we do not hop around in yoga class and we certainly do not do jumping jacks, jumping rope or oh mah god the push ups. Okay, so yes push ups but they are very fine yoga push ups which we call “low plank” which makes them somehow more palatable. We do fire breath and I wonder if this isn’t something like cardio conditioning.

You really do have to settle on one thing, whatever that one thing is. For me it was yoga. When I met my Teacher I focused all of my attention and devotion on the practices and techniques that she teaches. I had to let some stuff go because there isn’t enough time in the day for all of the delicious yoga practices and also being Billy Badass.

Incidentally, it’s the devotion that makes the Badass. It’s focus that helps us grow. Daily practice doesn’t hurt, either. And in the future when a yoga student asks about what I do to stay in shape and I tell them that, honestly, all I do is yoga I have a reference to support that yoga is enough.

 

 

n experience to back it up that yoga is enough.

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2 thoughts on “When Worlds Meet the Moment

  1. I support you whatever it is you choose to do. I am happy you learned that yoga is strong enough for you. I know it sounds strange coming from me, but I despise violence in any form, and even pretend violence is still violence.

    • Dave, I understand you and I have had very different life experiences and no, I do not think it sounds strange coming from you that you despise violence. My commitment to non-violence is woven heartily through my life and I hope to expand on it every day. Pretend violence may still be violence, however I think a person’s intention carries the most weight. My intention was to take a fitness class with my sister. There was a time in which I trained in martial arts for the wrong reasons; I thought the opponent was “out there” and in response to that I trained. It is through yoga practice that I learned where the real opponent is, and so when I take a boxing class there is no face I super-impose on the bag, but it is the same breath that I listen to in each moment.

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