Boxing, MARTA & Work

I’m back in the gym to resume my training! Almost two weeks after my minor foot surgery, I decided that it was time to get boxing. My foot disagreed with me, though, as the first couple of days back were rather painful. Now it’s been almost three weeks since surgery and I can both walk and box without pain.

It was a rough first week back. Monday through Wednesday, my body was sore sore sore. All of me was exhausted by Wednesday night and it was all I could do to keep my head up. Thursday night’s workout was better. My muscles were still sore, but I didn’t feel like a boulder trying to swim. Once my body adjusts, it’ll be better.

Muscle soreness aside, there’s a new factor that made my week more tiresome: public transportation. We’re training in a new (temporary) location that is way on the other side of town. Depending on the day, it takes me 1-2 hours to get there—one way. Fortunately, I’ve gotten rides home at night. (Bless you, dear friends.) I’ve never been one to bash MARTA, but it just takes so long to get anywhere. It leaves me no time between work and boxing. Each day this week except for Friday, I left home around 6:45 am and got back in at 8/9/10 pm. Once home, I showered as quickly as I could and fell into bed. No time for watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer, which is unfortunate. (I’m a late-comer to the series—just started season three.)

I can stand this schedule for two reasons:

1. I’d rather be boxing than not.
2. It’s temporary. I’m taking driving lessons to get my license and I plan to buy a car very soon. I’ve had it with bicycling, walking, taking trains, riding buses and begging for rides.

Despite the incredible waste of time in transit, the bottom line is that I’m just plain excited to be back to boxing. Granted, I’m not getting much done during the week, which means I’ll need to work a little more on weekends.

Speaking of work. Do you remember when I freaked out about my job last year? After a difficult first year of teaching, I couldn’t decide what to do. Try another year in Pre-K? Move to an older grade? Leave teaching all together? I spent so much time and energy worrying about this that it drove me crazy. I finally decided to stay in the same grade at the same school. I knew that the first years of teaching are hard, so I decided to stick with it.

Well, another year has almost gone. Though the second year has been better than the first in some ways, I submitted my letter of resignation this week. This time around, I made my decision without wasting precious energy fretting and worrying about “what if” scenarios. I considered where I am now and where I want to be, and found that the two wouldn’t connect.

• This school, which serves infants through Pre-K, is not the right fit for me. I’ve always imagined myself working in a traditional elementary school setting, and when I was in college I had my sights set on teaching 1st grade. Pre-K students are absolutely precious, but I think I’ll do better with older kids.
• Though it’s meant to give educators constructive feedback and encourage growth, I have to say that I’ve found the process of being observed and evaluated very discouraging. Of course, I may feel the same way in any other school. That’s part of why I will also look for non-teaching jobs, in addition to filling out teaching applications.
• I’m taking my life in a new direction. While I may stay in regular full-time teaching, I am also considering other options. Substitute teaching for a while? Maybe work in a half-day Pre-K program at an alternative school? Go back to school for special ed certification? Who knows? I sure don’t, yet, but I’m not worried anymore.

May 29th will be my last day of work. As weird as it is to not have a clue what I’ll be doing after that other than boxing, it’s exciting. There are so many possibilities—overwhelmingly many, actually. I’m looking forward to finding out what I’ll do next.

photo credit

Post-Fight Gore

It’s been a really long time since I’ve been in the gym. Remember how I was sick? I’m not sick anymore! (Finally.) Remember how I was resting for a fight? The fight’s over, but I’m still laying around at home. Why? Because I’m an invalid: I have a post-op shoe to prove it.

I’ve had a plantar wart on the bottom of my right foot for a while. It first became painful before ACFN 5, so I started applying an over-the-counter acid solution. I also tried duct tape. (I love duct tape.) I self-doctored the wart for months, but couldn’t get rid of it. When I gave up on the home remedies, I was in training for this most recent fight. I set up an appointment for four days after ACFN 6. With our transition to a new gym and the resting period while I was sick, I figured it was a good time to get ‘er done. I told the doctor I wanted to get the painful little thing removed as soon as possible, so he scheduled the surgery for this past Monday.

Even though I had this procedure done as a kid (removing two warts from the same foot without twilight sleep = more pain), I was nervous about it. I had a dream that they drilled a 3″-deep hole into my foot while I was asleep. I also dreaded having to stay home from the gym, but knew it would be worth it to be able to walk (and box) without that little twinge under my foot. As part of my prep for surgery, a nurse asked me which foot the wart was on. “Right,” I said. She checked it to make sure, and then wrote “YES” on my right ankle and “NO” on my left ankle, which I thought was hilarious. She had me initial them to show that I agreed.

“Yes,” operate on this foot. “No,” don’t touch that one!

I’m glad my doctor didn’t try to remove anything from the wartless foot! I came home with a numb right foot and started taking my pain medication and anti-inflammatory pills. The pain med made me queasy, but I stuck with it for a while. (I was told to be on it while my foot “woke up.”) I spent the rest of the day on the couch with my foot in the air.

I took Tuesday off work. The day started when I got out of bed and threw up. “No more painkillers for me!” My foot started hurting more as the day went on, but it wasn’t bad—especially compared to feeling sick to the stomach. I spent this day with my foot sticking up, too. My mom, my grandma and my trainer all called to make sure that I was doing alright.

That evening, about 36 hours after surgery, my instructions were to take a shower. Get the bandages nice and wet, then change them for the first time. I was nervous about this, but it ended up not hurting. It was a slight disappointment that the wound wasn’t as gory as I expected it to be:

The ring around the edge is just dried blood; only the circle in the middle is the wound. You can’t tell because of the lighting, but it was bright red.

This picture is to balance out the lovey-dovey stuff I posted a few days ago. :)

I returned to work on Wednesday, wearing my post-op shoe and keeping my weight on my right heel. The nurses said I’d heal quickly—maybe even before my post-op appointment next week. I hope so! For now, I’m changing the bandage daily, keeping the wound moist with salvey stuff they gave me and staying off my feet as much as I can. My students don’t mind, because they like helping out. They were also very curious, so I did a show and tell all about my foot, the procedure and my special new shoe.

As soon as I’m all healed up, I’ll be back in the gym. I can’t wait!

Post-Fight Love

Waffle House All-Star Breakfast

The morning after my fight called for Waffle House’s All-Star Breakfast. A buttery and syrupy waffle, two over-hard eggs, grits, two sausage patties, toast and orange juice. Mmmmm. Nothin’ wrong with that.

While I enjoyed my food and my cousin’s company, my phone buzzed with Facebook updates that I ignored. My Grandma called to congratulate me and tell me that she and PopPop “knew you could do it!” When I got to a computer, I updated my Facebook status:

Last night after my fight, I couldn’t fall asleep until around 5 am. A big part of the reason why is because I couldn’t stop thinking about the wonderful people I have in my life. . . . Last night wouldn’t have meant anything to me if it weren’t for all of you!!! Thank you.

I then proceded to wade through the Facebook notifications. I enjoyed looking through all the pictures—not just ones taken during my fight. I was in my own world for most of the night, so it’s fun to see what photographers captured that I never noticed.

Comments and posts and messages kept coming in. I’ve never had so many Facebook notifications in my life. I received congratulations from old friends I hadn’t heard from in a long time, someone I met at a boxing tournament once and even a couple of people I’d never met before. Add to that the people that I regularly interact with, and I was totally overwhelmed.

I’ll be honest: winning that fight meant a lot to me. At the same time, it would be lonely and pointless if the trophy were all I had. Sure, it’s a symbol of my hard work and what it got me, but I haven’t given the trophy much thought since I received it.

What I have given a lot of thought to: the people in my life. Most of my family lives too far away to come to events like this, but they still send me texts and messages to let me know they’re cheering for me. Then there are the friends and family who can’t stomach boxing, but still support me because they know how much I love it. I know it isn’t everyone’s cup of tea!

After I lost my first fight, my cousin and my roommate were right there to hug me and tell me not to cry. After winning on ACFN 6, they both hugged me and laughed with me. Not only that, but they cheered me on during training. How many times has Rachel seen me come home from the gym in tears? (Not as many times in recent months, but before that? Shoot. I’m like a fountain.) I’ve sent Garrett numerous texts to the tune of: “Waaaaaaah!” and he’s never told me to get over it. Talk about moral support!

Sorry for the glare. It says: “The Champ is here! Way to go, Kelsey!” They included a poster and bout sheet from the event.

When I walked into my classroom the next Monday morning, I was surprised by a big poster on the wall. The fact that some of my teacher-friends even came to the show meant a lot to me, and that they showed so much enthusiasm brightened my day (and the following week, as word spread around the school and people carried on and acted like I was famous).

For boxing-specific support, you can’t imagine how much the girls in the gym have helped me out. Between Milana’s supportive attitude (e.g. going over combinations and drills with me in slow-mo after training), Caryn’s encouraging positivity and Lisa’s challenging sparring… I had all the help I needed. They believed in me, and that was contagious.

Then there’s Terri Moss. She didn’t just train me physically, but mentally, too. (That is what made all the difference—I’m positive!) She believed in me and helped me believe in myself. After I posted my afore-quoted Facebook status, she commented: “You did the hard work, and you DID it!” I sure did, but still can’t take all the credit. Contrary to what one of my friends stated in her status, I’m not a superhero. What I am is a girl with a great support system—who likes to spend all her time in the gym. (Sure, I’ll take some credit.)

As Milana said in a Facebook status following the fight, “To me boxing is more than just a result in a passbook.” What’s important is the process of training and fighting and then training and fighting. Being my first win, this was an important milestone for me. But, really, it was only my third bout. I hope that this one fight was just a drop in the bucket of many fights to come. More than that, I hope this win was the first of many! I’m headed back to the gym to make my dreams come alive.

The Atlanta chapter of Thaakat, the charity I fought for (and won money for!), gave me a shout-out on their blog: Congrats, Kelsey Smith!! Thank you! I’m glad I could help.