Leveling up through Failure

On February 22nd, I had my debut boxing match, on the heels of my 36th birthday. Despite having high hopes, I lost. The ref called a TKO in the second round. I won't lie; losing like that was disappointing. But if I'm going to represent an educational philosophy that redefines failures as rich learning experiences, I sure as hell better walk the walk and check the bruised ego at the door. Let's see how it looked, shall we?

Thanks for checking my ribs!

That's me with the blue gloves getting the structural soundness of my ribs checked. For those who haven't had the pleasure of full-contact sparring, allow me introduce you to liver blows. Thankfully, I had my first encounter with a similar blow a week prior during sparring. How did it feel? A surprisingly strong radiation of pain, quickly followed by an inability to breathe. Had to drop to one knee whilst trying to recover. During the fight, I felt the same pain, but was better prepared to handle it. Got some space, dealt with the physical response, and got back into the fray a few seconds later. Learning.

Perhaps we can take a step back and answer a question you might be asking, "Mr. Badass Gentleman, why are you boxing?" Well, as you can well imagine, hand-to-hand combat is part of being a Badass Gentleman. As far as I'm concerned, there's no such thing as a Badass that cannot defend himself. Additionally, I got the idea in my head that I wanted to win a belt. You know, the kind that champions wear. So I set for myself the goal of winning a Hokkaido Amateur Boxing Championship.

My preferred fashion accessory

The journey started last October, when boxing was just an interest. After asking a few friends in town, I found a boxing class at the public gym in Kutchan. In my broken Japanese, I asked the gym manager about the class, whilst miming boxing motions. He looked at me a bit quizzically, and asked, "Boxercise?" That didn't sound quite right, but after a bit more back-and-forth, it appeared to be the only boxing-related class there, so I got the location and checked out the rest of the gym while waiting for class to begin.

Turns out, I see a guy in the weight room shadowboxing. And he doesn't look like he "boxercises". He looks legit. So I go and strike up a conversation. Turns out his name is Shinya Arai, and he used to be a pro bantamweight. Unbeknownst to me at the time, I had just met my trainer / sparring partner. I never did join that Boxercise class.

Fast forward 5 months, and I'm stepping into the ring for my first public event. I weighed in at 63 kg, after dropping 2 kg during the week. My opponent's weight was 67 kg (which I knew beforehand), but I want to fight in the Lightweight division, and 62 kg is the cutoff. Didn't fight until almost 3 pm, so spent most of the time mentally preparing to master adrenaline and the emotional response when getting hit full force. Here's how that panned out:

When I first saw the video, I noticed something crazy. I was so wrapped up in my own thoughts during the fight that I didn't even notice that my opponent was a southpaw. But I did notice the big straight lefts that he was aiming at my head, and tried to avoid them as best I could. More learnings.

Using footwork. Dictating range. Fast, compact combinations rather than big, looping punches. Not dropping guard. All things that I knew I should do heading into the match, but which flew out the window in the heat of the moment. Relearned a valuable lesson that knowing something and doing something are two separate things, especially when you're trying to dodge incoming fire. Having analyzed the fight, I've drawn up changes that I want to make, and ways to train to make it happen. The next match is on June 21st.

Would you like your ribs checked too?

The purpose of this post is to emphatically state that yes, the cliches are true. You learn the most through failure, and failures often mark the territory that is outside your current skill level. Fighting against a boxer with 20 years of experience, and punching two weight classes above me, certainly marked my current boundaries. Moreover, when you have a goal that exceeds your current skill level, you'll set yourself up with more opportunities to learn and test yourself, and yes, fail. But now I know more, and am better equipped to train smart and hard for my next fight. Can't wait for round two.