19 September 2009

Savior, thy name is Leukoplast

The answer to complete boxing happiness is worth 70 bucks.

Or less. Can’t really remember. It was that cheap.

I’ve been using Leukoplast tape for several sessions now to directly protect my knuckles from getting beaten up—and so far, no wounds, no swelling. What an amazingly useful thing.

Leukoplast, which one can buy at any drugstore, is mainly used to secure dressings because of its highly adhesive properties. But upon the recommendation of a friend, I now directly apply layers of Leukoplast (4 or 5 strips will do) on both sets of my bare knuckles prior to a boxing session. The tape rigidly sticks to my skin, thus protecting it from the repeated impact of gloved fists on my trainer’s mitts. Combine Leukoplast with my gel-cushioning wraps, and I am uber protected. Just some redness on my knuckles after all that punching but at least no bloody mess. So far so good.

I was excited to hit the boxing gym after I got back from Thailand. Work kept me busy, so I was finally able to box last Thursday.

To my surprise, the gym was noisy and packed when I arrived 30 minutes before closing time. Usually around that time, the number of clients would be dwindling. I had the sinking feeling I’d have to wait for quite a bit until Ryan would be able to focus on me, as he was usually one of the busier trainers there.

In the middle of the crowded training floor, Ryan welcomes me with open [and sweaty] arms and a loud “Thailander! I missed you!” Loud enough for the other people to hear.

I roll my eyes but laugh just the same. Clearly, I am one of his favorite students. (Or should I say favorite object of torture?) He enjoys seeing my utter discomfort whenever he draws attention to me. I don’t know why he gets a thrill out of it.

I felt strong that night. But because the time I had left to box was so limited, I just managed to do 10 rounds straight with Ryan and then 200 crunches afterwards. I didn’t want Mang Jun, the maintenance guy, to wait long until I was done with crunches and a shower, so I just promised myself to do 200.

Ryan had me do a lot of uppercuts this session, which I found brutal for my wrists. I’m always deathly afraid of spraining my wrists, so sometimes I hold back, not punching hard enough when delivering an uppercut. But my trainer could tell I was being such a wuss and had me continuously doing uppercuts, especially on my right, which was the weaker one.

An hour or so later, my wrists were so sore, the shampoo bottle I was holding felt heavy in my hand as I was taking a shower.

My knuckles are well-protected now, thanks to Leukoplast. But what about my wrists?? Guess I have to start wrapping them with something as well.


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