26 May 2009

I have two battered hands: the left and the right

I was in such a bad mood yesterday evening. To let out my anger, I did two hours' worth of boxing. One hour working on the bags and another hour with Ryan and his mitts.

There I was, punching away angrily at the wall bag and delivering straight rights as forcefully as I could--that I barely noticed that my trainer was standing a few meters away from me, observing my punches. It didn't help that I was, quite visibly, looking teary-eyed and frustrated while I attacked the punching bag mounted on the wall.

I think he could tell right away that I was in an ugly mood because he said very quietly, "Okay, huwag ka nang umiyak, ha. Ilabas mo na lang ang galit mo sa suntok."

The fact that he could guess how shitty I was feeling made me want to cry out of sheer rage even more--and relief as well that at least someone understood me at that point.

By the time my trainer was ready to do some mitt/glove work with me, I was pretty fired up. Spent my energy on delivering the combinations he shouted, and I noticed that I was really lunging at him to strike the necessary blows on his mitts. Halatang nanggigigil ako.

My fists were really, really hurting, and again, Ryan could understand how I was feeling, because I was, I suppose, wearing this pained, tight-lipped expression on my face. So he said, after an hour, that we've had had enough for that session.

When he took out my hand wraps, he gingerly flexed and examined my beaten-up hands--and then announced that I should take a break from boxing for the rest of the week.

I was disappointed with his decision (because I really love cardio boxing) but also somewhat relieved. Because on taking a closer look at my hands later that night, I could see that I've abused them so much these past couple of weeks ever since I started working with my new trainer.

Basically, these are the "almost-injuries" that I'm sporting right now on my hands:

On the left corner: a very, very, very sore left wrist (from all those angry, reckless left hooks) and a strained pinky (because of an inaccurate execution of a left uppercut).

On the right corner: a small knuckle wound that hasn't totally dried up (because of the continuous punching and contact with mitts), and a noticeably swollen knuckle (from all those straight rights, which seem to get stronger every time I box). This middle knuckle is perpetually swollen, even in the day time; some officemates have already even noticed how much bad shape my right hand is in at the moment.

Ryan wasn't usually one to make me quit and rest, but I guess he was alarmed at the state of my hands (thank God there were no broken bones though) that he actually ordered me to have a breather from boxing.

That means I can only box again starting next Monday. (*sad face*) BUT, at least I can concentrate more on running this week, since the Microsoft IE8 run is taking place this coming Sunday. (*happy, tense-excited face*)


I am currently re-reading The Andromeda Strain. It seems like such an apt thing to read in these swine-flu-ridden times. And how I miss Michael Crichton. He wrote some pretty kitschy passages at times--but, overall, he was able to come up with some really damn fine, entertaining books as well.


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