Right now, I have about 35 minutes of interviews sitting on my recorder.

These interviews are with Chance Farrar and Anthony Haile, the frontmen of the Arizona Athletic Club, as well as with two of their boxing trainers.

These interviews, however, are staying on my recorder. Because after the interviews, I had my first training session. And I can barely type this, let alone transcribe interviews.

Let me back up. On May 17, Paradise Casinos is hosting a Bad Boy Boxing Tournament, put on by Felko Promotions. It’s not professional. It’s not even amateur. People entered in the event have extremely limited -as in mostly zero - tournament experience.

So when my editor Scott approached me with the idea of doing a story, I asked if he meant following a boxer training, or doing it myself. He asked if I was willing to do it, and I responded, “Why not?”

I guess I should point out, I don’t like pro boxing and have never taken any boxing classes or lessons in my life. And because of my deceptively fat frame, I’m going to be a heavyweight.

Here we are a week later. I am fresh back from the AAC from what was supposed to be a talking session with Farrar and Haile. But when they got with me, they told me I need to train every day for the next two weeks until the event. I had planned on four sessions in that stretch.
Needless to say, the word naive came up. And they were right.

So they put me in training right away. I had no workout clothes, I had to work out in my business attire. And what did I learn?

Well, I already I knew I was uncoordinated. I knew I was out of shape. I knew I was weak. I knew my body looks like an albino eggplant. I know I’ve had a nagging cough for like two months. I figured I’d learn a defensive pose or two and pray for the 3 minutes - three 1-minute rounds - and hope not to suffer a serious injury.

Wrong.

One of the boxing instructors, Joey (I swear I’ll get his last name once I transcribe my notes) told me that the best defense is a good offense.
So I tried to learn basic punches. The jab, the power punch, the hook. I can’t throw a hook. Well, maybe I can. But the lesson on the hook came 30 minutes into my session. And at that point, my body would have made Bill Cosby proud - it was made of Jell-O.

I had jumped rope already. Well, I’m so uncoordinated I had to mime the rope. And after 4 minutes, I crashed and basically stood still for the last 2 minutes of the session.

Then came the punching bag. Apparently, the key in boxing is quick, snapping punches like a rubber band, then returning your hand to a defensive position. When you throw more than one punch in a combo, your first hand should be back in a defensive position before your second hand strikes.

And if you think that’s a convoluted sentence, try putting it into practice - and at fast enough a speed to still defend yourself from the other guy doing the same.
By the time I spent 10 minutes on the treadmill, I was thankful, considering that a rest. And I know my workout was, oh, 5 percent of a “real” boxer’s workout.

I came into this taking it lightly. But after talking to the crew at AAC, I found out I have two choices, and coincidently they rhyme: Quit or Commit.
Well, I’m not a quitter.

So over the course of the next two weeks, I’ll be blogging all about my experience doing this. But that’s not all. There will, at various points, be newspaper articles, podcasts, photo galleries, video and every other multimedia tool we have at our disposal chronicling my journey.
Originally, I was trying to win one fight. Now I see that was beyond naive - it was the stupidest thought ever hatched in the history of mankind.

Now, I just want to last 3 minutes, and not look like a rank amateur. And it’s going to take more than four sessions to do so. It’s going to be a personal test of my will - because frankly, I’m a lazy, lazy man.
But if I can put in the training to do this, commit to this all the way, it will make me a better husband, better father, and just a better person.

A better person, that is, with some pretty nasty bruises. But to quote the greatest football movie ever: Wounds heal, chicks dig scars, glory lasts forever.
(Yes, that was Keanu in The Replacements and yes, it was sarcasm.)

Coming Friday: What the professionals think of this challenge.

This entry was posted on Thursday, May 1st, 2008 at 8:44 pm and is filed under Eddie's Boxing Adventure. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.