hypocrites, lunatics and knockouts

Posted: January 24, 2010 in Boxing, Confessions of the CEO

Happy Sunday morning to y’all.  I’m writing you from bed contemplating how I can possibly tie in the events of the week into some tidy readable package.

Monday, a world champion kick-boxer gave us a private lesson.  Tuesday, Chek news came into the gym with 1/2 hour notice and filmed a piece on Hit to Fit.  They wanted a full gym, and I had no idea or control over whether anyone would be there or not.  I’m also very camera shy which is slightly inconvenient.  Wednesday, we got the news that Capital City Boxing won the bid to host the 2010 BC Golden Gloves.  Friday night we hosted a house concert.  Martyn Joseph, a world class musician from Wales played in our living room and inspired 30 of us with his passionate music for two hours.  I woke up Saturday morning to sunny skies and kid’s soccer games.   Last night, I was scorekeeper at a kickboxing match and today, I will open up the gym to a woman who wants to surprise her husband with a bit of boxing training on his birthday.  Add in a few crisis at work, my crazy ambition that Hit to Fit is gonna seriously take off – and that kinda sums it up.  I love weeks like this: weeks when nothing makes sense.  When the life I am living doesn’t feel like the life of one person, or if it is, then this person must be some kind of hypocrite or lunatic.

We’re not afforded much room in this world before we’re called a hypocrite.  Like when a mother opens up a boxing gym and is rather happy that her sons show no interest in participating in the sport.   Or when she is working the fights and watches an 18-year-old boy get knocked out and in the minutes of his brief coma, her eyes well up with tears because she knows that he suffered not one, but probably two concussions – once with the kick to the head and the second when he dropped to the canvas.  This same woman is married to a psychiatrist who doesn’t white-wash the damage of head injuries and she knows that in that split second, the quality of this young man’s life may have been seriously diminished.   Yet, when people ask her:  how can you support such a violent sport, she runs to defend it in the same way she’d push a child out of the way of a moving car.

I don’t quite know where I’m going with this, but it has something to do with ranges of experiences.  My boxing coach, Cap, used to talk about finding your range in a fight.  It’s critical, of course, that you know the maximum distance you can be from your opponent in order to score a point.  The longer your range, the greater the possibilities you have in a match.  He taught me ways of extending my range, both in and out of the ring.  In the ring it was by gaining flexibility, playing with angles and height.  In life it was by learning to live just outside of my comfort zone – sometimes way outside of it.   He taught me to get comfortable being uncomfortable and together we coined the phrase:  accept the unacceptable.  Boxing taught me how to flourish within the range of all my hypocrisies and uncertainties.

I love boxing, but not all the time.  I love what I have learned about life via the sport, but I do not like the possibility of shortened life spans, brain injury and the pleasure that some people (sometimes, myself included) take from causing another pain.  Boxing has a long range.  One one end, it can open up your eyes to your relationship with yourself and the world and on the other it can close your eyes forever.

But it is because of my boxing training that I was able to open up Capital City Boxing with relatively little boxing experience and no business experience.  My business has since become my training ground.  I use everything I know about Boxing and apply it to my vocation and vise-versa.  The gym is the ring, coaching is my training, and the matches are perennial.  I am comfortable being uncomfortable and I learned this invaluable skill through boxing – which is why I defend the sport in the way that I do.  There is nothing comfortable about boxing.  And there is nothing comfortable about life.   If there is, then I boldly suggest that you’re doing it wrong.  Death and uncertainty lie at every corner.  Those who know their next breathe could be their last tend to live extraordinary lives.

Once again, I ask, what does this have to do with fitness?

Well, everything.


  1. Bob says:

    Beautifully written Sandy. Don’t spend too much time examining your life, just live it.

  2. Catherine Novak says:

    Wow, that’s as honest an article as I’ve ever read! You are doing great things, Sandi, and of course life is full of inconsistencies. You’ve got me thinking.

  3. hitgirl says:

    thanks for your comments you guys – sorry it took me so long!

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