Living healthy...part 2

My sparring partner is old, very solid and thoroughly grizzled. He's seen a lot of fights. Been punched by a lot of people. Looks like his sparring days are numbered. Goes by the name of "Ringmaster."

He quietly waits for me in the same spot everyday swaying gently on his chain. I'm not intimidated.

On go my gloves. My very own gloves. I don't use the ones provided by the gym.

And then we begin.

I approach Ringmaster in my boxer's stance, hands up protecting my jaw. Then I let loose with a right jab and another right jab.

jab-jab jab jab-jab jab jab-jab

The sound my glove makes each time it connects with my sparring partner is deeply satisfying...

WHUMP.

Ringmaster sways drunkenly under the onslaught of my mighty right.

I change my stance to offer him my left - my weaker side - but don't give him anytime at all to prepare before I let loose with multiple left jabs...

jab-jab jab jab-jab jab jab-jab

Breathing hard I leave Ringmaster to sway and recover while I make a circuit of the room. By the time I complete my circuit he is still swaying gently, but seems to have recovered enough to continue.

WHUMP

He has no time to defend himself from a right hook.

WHUMP WHUMP

Two more right hooks.

jab-WHUMP

My first combination - a jab and a right hook.

Soon I add in a few left crosses.

WHUMP-WHUMP-WHUMP

I'm sure that I grunt with the exertion, but the sound of my glove connecting with my sparring partner is intoxicating so I don't care.

WHUMP.

Between rounds, my chest heaving with my exertions, I make a circuit of the room then grab a glug of water.

Today another gym member - a man, late 40's or early 50's, balding with a terrible mustache - asks, "Do you mind if I work in a few rounds?"

"Not at all," I reply. "He's my favorite work out partner, but we can certainly share him."

"Thanks."

He puts on a pair of the gym's gloves and commences to beating the heck out of Ringmaster, but without much style. I'm pleased to note that my form is better than this guy. I make two circuits of the room while he boxes.

Then it's my turn again. I'm totally focused on my combinations, but a little part of my mind is just vain enough to be wondering if the other boxer is watching me during my round and admiring my technique and the fact that I can hit HARD.

We swap again. And once again.

And then the other boxer throws his gloves back in the box and heads off to another part of the gym.

I put in a few more rounds and then give up myself.

Tapping Ringmaster lightly I say what I always say to him, "Good fight" and then head off to cool down.