boxing lessons

recently i began telling random strangers that i would like to learn how to box and i quite promptly found myself a few willing boxing coaches.

the first was wax, a trucker stopping by the lake for a break before his next 15 hour shift. he began shadowboxing in the middle of our conversation, so i asked him to teach me something. it’s all about footwork, he said, pivoting around a bad foot with the leg that had been crushed by a forklift in 2016. you gotta keep your head level. when you got your head up, that’s when, the body, the body is getting hit. he simulated getting punched in the ribs, his body twisting and jerking from the action of invisible fists.

the best protection is good preparation, he said. i quipped something wry about how the best protection was ignorance. he looked at me in confusion. no, when the government tells you that you can have concealed carry in a certain place? that’s protection. that’s them telling you to protect yourself. you ought to make use of that.

i had no response. the atmosphere grew suddenly heavy and confused. hey where’d you go? he asked. you went off somewhere, come back. i could not.

the second was kevin. a young father who got into mma during his time in the military and saw my session with wax. stopped by after and offered to train me. we met at the point a week later.

right off the bat, he says: ok so i’m not going to teach you how to box. i’m going to teach you how to fight. to defend yourself.

okay, i said

because someone comes and attacks you, you go into fight or flight. right? and if you can, definitely run. but if you can’t, the best defense is to attack. us shorter people, we have the advantage if we get up close.

after simulating various assaults on the nose, the chest, and the groin, i informed him that i did not actually foresee myself relying on such tactics were i actually in physical danger. i boasted that i’d feign ignorance, try to seduce them or be seduced, and make my escape when their defenses were all the way down.

what i didn’t say was my skepticism to his claim that i’d go into fight or flight upon being threatened in the first place. maybe this is particular to women, or to circles where exposure to random or explicit violence is less common — where violence is more ‘socialized,’ so to speak. but there’s often a much more tantalizing third option upon experiencing/witnessing violation: pretending it’s not happening. the benefit of this approach is that one is more likely to survive the encounter. the cost is a mute (self-)hatred that seeks its own accumulation. not a head shot but a body punch.