Lessons in Life from Boxing: No one is coming to save you.

lesson 5

So I’m sitting here on my couch eating my breakfast cereal, just before I have to pop an anti-inflammatory. I hate taking tablets but even more so I hate mooshy cereal so I get round to the task even quicker than I want.

I’m taking these anti-inflams because I somehow pulled something in my foot on Monday, never realised it was an issue until Wednesday afternoon when I could barely walk to my car without crying. Okay I know these blog posts I have sounded like a girl pants but I can take pain, bruises are little badges from my training, waking up with sore muscles is an achievement but sharp stabbing pain is not fun and in the foot is not something to just “walk off”.

So even though I could talk about how on Tuesday I was punched in the left eye repeatedly can drive me to learn how to defend better. I feel like this needs to be said.

No one is coming to save you.

Even though you can have the best parents in the world, loving family and supportive friends, it’s still just going to be you looking out for you.

I’ve always been a team sport person growing up, playing school netball and soccer. I also grew up in a big Portuguese family, knowing at least one of my three older sisters will have my back. But since moving out the house, living alone and starting a business on my own it’s been hard. So training in boxing suits who I am now (well who I want to be more like it).

Not to say I don’t have support backing me, but it feels like metaphorically if I was my business and I was a boxer, and if a fight night was my business career… my family and friends would spread the word and sell tickets to the show (which is my business terms would be clothes) when it comes down to the fight night, all their support buying a ticket, shouting my name and betting on me to win all comes down to me. I am the one in the ring fighting one-on-one.

It’s love knowing someone is there but it’s tough love when they have you fight your battles alone.

I’m not complaining, if anything I now understand where Boyd Allen was coming from when he repeatedly thanked EFC and Don Madge for the opportunity to fight. For years you train in your field, as the days go by you gain a following because of your talent. Now with every punch (or in my case every dress) I bring out, they are watching.

It’s overwhelming at times knowing my parents bet on me, my friends bought tickets and my following shouting my name but now, I have to suck it up and take the tablets, heal and learn so the next punch I let out will be better then the next.

About Lucy Goretti

Designer, Iger, Illustrator, South African

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