Beginner Boxing - Are You Too Old to Box?
4 Reasons to Get Started
By JT Van T
After a lifetime of finding excuses not to, I finally signed up for boxing lessons today at Club Boxing De Sherbrooke. I don't have delusions of grandeur. I am overweight, I was diagnosed with acute adult onset asthma twelve years ago and I had a herniated disk three years ago whilst trying to put a pair of socks on. I am told the latter is quite common amongst men of my age. I suppose you could say that I am as fit as a fiddle... a very old, water damaged and stringless fiddle.
Making matters worse, my son is now ten. He tries to beat me up constantly as does my second son, who is six. My daughter is starting to get in on the action too. She is three. Twenty years ago I could have taken them. Today, I am out-matched. My oldest son also plays dirty, I can't bear the thought of being kicked in the gonads again. He apologized... but couldn't help smiling whilst doing it. No, I do not have demon spawn for children. They are just healthy little primates wanting to test the boundaries of their childhood confinement. It's all in good fun but nevertheless, a stark reminder of what I once was.
My first lesson was far from glamourous. By the end I looked like a middle aged man swimming in his clothes. The sweat poured off my balding head into my eyes. I was fighting back my asthma with each short breath. I struggled to keep my elbows tucked in and gloves raised. This, despite the fact that I have been going to the gym for the last six months in a concentrated effort to prepare for this moment. I can only imagine what my instructor, Valérie Picard, must have thought. It was the first time in over fifteen years that I had run for a reason other than because I was being chased by a rabid squirrel or in a mad effort to prevent something horrible befalling my children as toddlers. I hate jogging.
I have an itch that I just can't seem to satisfy. Like everyone else, I have a story. Like everyone else, I have been knocked on my ass more times than I can remember both literally and figuratively. Like everyone else, there is only so much that I can control. Boxing is one of those outlets that makes sense. I will be turning 40 in February. Whilst I never feared growing older, I can't deny that time is catching up with me. I still have plenty of fights left in me, both figuratively and literally. Inevitably, my kids need a stronger father.