Today I Go to Boxing

6/17/2015

Today, I go to boxing. Maybe. The slow increase of anxiety as the deadline

approaches hasnt yet reached the apex. But I am already trying to come up with
excuses. I need to visit the college I am enrolling in. Maybe I should go shopping
instead. None of the excuses have yet convinced my brain as legitimate. But when
the excuse does seem plausible, a relief comes over me. A way to get out of
something a possible escape. For example, I injured my knuckle near my pinky
the other day in class, and was able to convince myself that that was the reason I
took the day off from going to boxing class. But was it really? Or was it the main
reason? It felt so good to have that relief sweep over me, to know that I had
escaped class without being a coward about it. If I miss too many days, then I feel
like I am wasting my time and my money even going, and I feel like Im letting
anxiety run my life. But to let an excuse come through once or twice is such a
relief. It feels so good to escape my obligations.
For instance, when I first called boxing to talk to them about a trial course,
the guy told me to come in that day. I told him I would come in the next day. The
next day I called him up and told him I would be in next week. When next week
arrived, I thought it would be better to reschedule for the week after that, because it
would be the end of May, and it would mean I could begin paying for it on the first
of June, which seemed like a good legitimate excuse to procrastinate. My brain
bought it. When that week arrived, my girlfriend was going out of town on an
airplane. As we got into my car, she got an alert saying that her plane would be
rescheduled for around the same time as my boxing class was scheduled. Potential
relief started to flood into my body. I told her, I will have to reschedule my class
then. But she said just to drive her up to the airport and she would find a way to
get on an earlier flight. The dread began to creep back in. The butterflies that I
thought were evacuating my body came back in with a jolt and were ready to begin
copulating like bunnies. I dropped her off there, and waited with anticipation for her
to confirm her flight she managed to get one. Fuck.
I first went out on a walk before it was time for class. I walk because it helps
me mollify my anxiety. Then I began the drive. It felt surreal driving. I thought to
myself, Am I really doing this? Am I going to actually walk in that door? I dreaded
it as though it was a deterministic certainty that I would do this. I couldnt pussy
out, because that would lead to the most depressing state of depression. I couldnt
pussy out without an excuse my brain would read as an alternative to just being a
social coward. And I no longer had one. I had to go. I parked my car. I was very
early. I passed the building, and walked down the street that was adjacent to it. I
knew I would have to turn around eventually, and eventually I did. Then I realized I
was wearing glasses, and had to take them off, but that made me nervous too,
because then my vision was reduced, and I couldnt tell what was going on. I finally
opened that door and went in. Everyone looked like fucking MMA fighters. I felt like
this pudgy bastard didnt belong.

But why do I even get nervous? Sometimes, when I scan the predictions of
what I am to expect from the day, I cant find a single rational reason to be nervous,
but still it persists. The anxiety is most disquieting when Im still at home, trying to
concentrate on reading or whatever else I am doing that day. Currently, the anxiety
isnt that bad to cause me much problems, but I think I would prefer an earlier class
if I could have one, to get that anxiety out of the way for the day. There is such a
relief when class is over, knowing I survived embarrassment. The car ride to class
isnt so bad, but then I have to decide when to go into the building. If I go in too
early, I just fiddle with my equipment for a while, and try to avoid eye contact with
people. Or, best result, I get to wave or say a quick greeting to that person, and
disarm the awkwardness. But sometimes its an internal tension that drives me
crazy, not knowing if I should greet a person or ignore them, both seem to be a
potential Mortons Fork for me. Just talking feels so forced for me, it doesnt flow
it feels like pushing a muscle to exercise that is lazy, and would rather be at rest.
And add to that the fact that the muscle isnt even completely sure about how to
properly do the exercise. Every word I utter feels like a failure of communication.
So, sometimes I prefer to ignore the people around me, and stare at the people
doing the savate class that comes in before boxing.
Eventually we have to begin our warm-up of jumping rope. I dont know
exactly when to get onto the floor, so I usually wait for someone else to start. There
is no clock in the building, to my knowledge, and I have to have my phone in my
locker. The jump rope doesnt turn out well for me. I am the most out of shape
person in the gym. Im uncoordinated, and frequently my rope gets twisted up, so I
stumble and wrestle with it during the activity. Sometimes I trip over my rope so
spectacularly and humorously, while everyone else carries on effortlessly and
consistently at their task, that it feels like Im in a Woody Allen comedy skit. I dont
mind wheezing a bit, and playing on my lack of athleticism. I sometimes play it up,
so it seems like an excuse for me to fail with the rope, rather than just being
retarded in regards to my dexterity with the device. I sometimes hear some
peripheral laughing and chatting, which is probably just people from the last class
relaxing and having a good palaver with their pals, but sometimes I consider they
may be amused by my ineptness. Not to mention, since Im out of shape, I have a
bit of a moob problem, and I can see them bouncing in the mirror in front of me.
Thats probably the most embarrassing bit of this warm-up, so hopefully I get that
ameliorated with a bit of commitment to getting in shape. But really, the rope
jumping doesnt make me feel too anxious, and Im able to stoically accept it as I
have my face forward, not looking around me, and just giving it my best effort
from as far back in the gym as I can get with the space allotted.
The next activity is beating up the punching bag. Thats the most relaxing
part. All I do is sit in place, and punch the same bag over and over, using different
combinations. Im usually left alone, except for the instructor (Ali) coming over to
correct any mistakes I am making. I sometimes struggle to understand him, which
makes me nervous, but I dont mind the criticism, as I came to class because I want
to get better.

The next activity is when we have to get with a partner to do some drills,
such as punching their gloves, then ducking the punches they throw, and then
switching out with them. This makes me the most nervous, for obvious reasons.
For some reason, last time I went to boxing, we didnt have to do this, which I was
glad about. We had a substitute instructor last time, though. Today, I will probably
have to do this. And Ive only done this once. I fucked up a few times, and told the
guy I was uncoordinated, but he worked with me, and I wasnt too nervous about it,
especially when I somewhat got into the rhythm of what I was supposed to do.
However, Im afraid that with time, it may make it even worse, because right now
Im expected to suck, but when Im expected to be good, thats when I will be most
at alarm. And I sometimes have this communication problem and cant understand
what people say (and not just with my instructor, who has a difficult accent). Its
like my brain has this aural gestalt problem. Gestalt psychology involves your brain
putting together images into a meaningful shape, but the problem I have is that I
have problems sometimes of registering sounds into meaningful words or
sentences. This is why I almost always have subtitles on when I watch a movie, and
why some people seem to be easily annoyed with me, because I frequently ask
them to repeat themselves and this isnt even accounting for the times when I
space out.
The final part is the ab exercises. Im not sure why this causes me so much
anxiety, but it does. We have to grab a mat, and head to the center, forming a
circle and doing crunches etc. Some of these activities involve grabbing a partner,
and one time everyone was paired up with everyone, so the coach got some guy
who was waiting for the next class to aid me. But before we did the team ab
exercises, I was still nervous. I think it was because one of the guys was counting
the exercises for us as we did them, and I was afraid that this duty would be
rotated, and that I would be expected to count out loud as well. Im not even
embarrassed that I fuck up the ab exercises, and get tired before everyone else. I
just dont want to count.
And what relief I feel when class is dismissed. I become jubilant. I walk
outside and the cool air hits me. I feel happy. Its only when we pass through
tension, do we feel the joys of what would otherwise be banality. I can appreciate
boredom, or rather escape it, by putting myself through an ordeal. But why is this
an ordeal to me? Im sure most people look forward to these moments. They
probably think its a shame when class ends. Why cant I enjoy life the way others
can? Why do good moments for others have to be torture for me? I dont think it
will ever go away. Even when I did Brazilian Jiu Jitsu an activity I truly love I still
had to escape the larger classes and change my time to fit the smaller classes, and
that was after like half a year. Its inconsistent. My anxiety is always throwing me a
curve ball. In the same situation, I can react differently depending on my mood at
the time. But what is assured is that as long as what I am doing involves people, I
will experience some form of anxiety bordering on terror. But if I dont endure the
terror, I have to contend with hopelessness. So I have a choice, a Mortons Fork:
hopelessness or terror.
-Greg dratsab Huffman