so i’m kind of moving my blog to Posterous – it’s easier for posting up my songs & vids. you can find me at: gratuitousjewess.posterous.com
The biggest lesson I learned from my first fight was: don’t get fucking hit. Okay, it was a little more complex than that: keep my gloves up, don’t swing wildly (it results in a bad punch and leaves me open), pay attention to my footwork. Other than that, gloves up chin down.
[All pictures courtesy of David Harrison, again – thanks!]
"What has mood to do with it? You fight when the necessity arises – no matter the mood! Mood’s a thing for cattle or making love or playing the baliset. It’s not for fighting." [Guerney Halleck, in Frank Herbert’s Dune]
So I’ve been putting off blogging about my second fight, in Cape Town. This was for a couple of reasons. The first one was waiting for my article to be published – which covered some of the fight night or, at least, White Collar Boxing, which is in this week’s Mail & Guardian. Second, I guess I’ve also been processing the actual fight and what fighting meant to me.
"What’s that?" [me]
"That feeling – that’s hope," my friend Jo said to me the other night.
Today, when I (finally) managed to spend some decent time in the gym, I was reminded how important exercise has become in keeping up my mood, my energy, my mojo. After my second fight in Cape Town (I’ll post about it, later this week), I experienced a massive crash – even though I fought incredibly well. Yesterday, the woman I fought against, Christia, emailed me to say that she, too, had spent most of last week feeling low, tired…
It’s been a challenging and amazing year, this one. I’ve realised that when I’m not exercising, it becomes more challenging and less amazing.
Also: I have nice shoulder muscles now, and the beginnings of interesting muscles elsewhere. I want to keep those/that, build them. No one said you couldn’t have a little bit of vanity when you’re on a journey, right?
I am, apparently, totally crap at getting a video to embed itself in any of my blogs.
So here’s the YouTube link to me playing heart-shaped box (because video on Tumblr seems to require ridiculous amounts of bandwidth / time / etc):
In which I will try and paste together some recollections of the fight that was… Because, honestly, it was a blur. Literally. In the first round, I lost the contact lens out my left eye. I don’t know if this was from a punch or because I was blinking and covered in Vaseline. All I know is one minute I could see and the next I could feel my contact lens slipping out my eye and onto my cheek. This was pretty disorienting. I carried on fighting, because that’s what you do. When I went back to my corner after the first round, I told my coach I’d lost the lens; he took it off my cheek, I think. Or maybe not. A blur, as I said.
I’m going to start off by saying that I feel… a bit fucking knackered. But it’s hard-earned exhaustion, from weeks of training and the Big Event: my first fight. Last night I went three rounds with Nicky (Nicci?) – lawdy, I don’t even know her surname – and I survived, pretty much intact. I have a bruise on the top of my left arm, my jaw hurts on the right side of my face, by nose is a little bit tender but all in all, I’m feeling strong. And I know my opponent came out of it looking a lot worse than I did (more on that later).
So, here’s me and Nicky before the fight (pics from Nadine Hutton):
Here’s James Sey, doing pad work with Anderson Kazembe, the brilliant coach from Malawi.