Around New Years last year, I won a free week at a local boxing club. I had never gone boxing before, but it was free, I was bored, and I like trying new things, so I went. The thought of hitting things to work out also had me especially curious.
It’s now September 30, and I’ve been going boxing for ten months now. My form has improved, and so has my fitness level. I look forward to going to my boxing classes every week. They’re one hour of sweat filled, knuckle bruising fun. And I’m going to miss it so much.
When I first started boxing, I found it very fun, but very difficult. I struggled to make it through a sixty minute session, and my knuckles often bled through my wraps by the end of class. Once, I bruised my middle knuckle so badly, I couldn’t let anything touch it without searing pain shooting up my hand. But I continued to go back to class. You see, I was hooked (no pun intended :P)
Never before had I worked out in a way that encouraged me to get stronger, while also taking out my aggression on a 100 pound object. I was a runner in high school. My objective was to cut as much time off of my 4K by the end of the season as I could, and to be faster than as many other runners as possible. Running wasn’t difficult for me. I found that I could be naturally fast, as long as I did what my coach told me to do. The sport wasn’t confrontational at all. I was literally running away from other people. But when I was sixteen, I got a nagging injury that never really went away. Running for me was never the same again, and neither was working out.
Boxing doesn’t aggravate my chronic injury, so I’m able to do it long term. But more than that, boxing isn’t easy for me. In fact, it took me over eight months to finally feel comfortable with how I threw my punches. Improving my form was difficult, and at times very frustrating. I seemed to make no progress from one week to the next, and my knuckles were paying the price.
But then one day six weeks ago, I noticed that I was able to make it through class without wanting to die. And my knuckles didn’t hurt after class. I was losing the tread on my shoes because my form had improved (the trainer constantly shouting, “use your hips!” finally started to make sense to me). I felt like I had arrived, that I could finally call myself a boxer. Then I took a look around the gym.
There are still many (many!) people who are better than me at my boxing club. There are people who are slim (and look like elite runners, honestly), who can make their bags swing so hard, I sometimes think they might fall off. There are big, strong body builder dudes who beat their bags into oblivion. Sometimes I catch myself looking at these boxers and wish I could be like them. That my form would be impeccable, that I could make the chain rattle with every hit, that I could throw a five punch combo in a matter of seconds.
And I could let myself admire these boxers, and feel intimidated and unworthy to be in their presence. I could hide in the corner of every class, and quietly throw my punches, trying not to be noticed. I could long for the days when I did something that came naturally to me, that I didn’t have to try so hard to be good at. And some days I want to really dwell on this.
But what I try to do instead, when these thoughts arise, is remember that I’ve gotten so much better since I started, and that I am continuing to get better. And that I am so thankful for the opportunity to learn something I never thought I would learn, and be able to do it consistently without reigniting my running injury.
All this to say, I am leaving to go overseas in five days. I won’t be going boxing anymore, but I will be learning to fight in a new way. I’ll be learning a new culture, and a new language, and a new perspective on the world. I’ll be getting to know new people, and learning how to live a part from my family. But most of all, I’ll be learning how to go to a deeper level with God. Just like with boxing, this real life stuff doesn’t come naturally to me. This having faith stuff doesn’t come naturally to me. I have to work very hard at it. And I have a very steep learning curve to adjust to in less than a week. But from what I’ve learned with my workouts, I know that a challenge is the best way to grow. Change is hard, but it opens up opportunities that would never have been there before. It’s time to take this next step of faith, and trust that God is going to show me things so incredible, I could not possibly imagine them now. It’s time to fight some new battles.