Training Montage

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October 25, 2012 by cieramilo

Training Montages take about two to three minutes in a movie. This is, of course, absolutely ridiculous.

When we see our favorite movie stars running the streets of Philadelphia or dancing around a speed bag, we can’t help but get pumped up. We start to root for them and even critique their form along with their movie star coaches. We let our hearts start racing and breathing increase for those two to three minutes as we watch them work. We start to feel like we’re working with them for that time…..then we want to see them beat the ever-living crap out of someone and come out the victorious underdog, thus earning justice for all of us other underdogs out here in the movie theater munching on popcorn and milkduds. Somehow we are satisfied with that song-length of a workout. Yeah, that’s bullshit. (Again, excuse the language.) But seriously.

Not that I even have an INKLING of an understanding yet of how hard training is for a boxer, I do know it’s no two minute montage.

Here’s an example of a training routine from a friend of mine who used to be a pro MMA fighter (adjusted for boxing):
run 30 minutes at a fatiguing pace (what!?)
alternate shadow boxing with weight and jump rope 30 minutes
technical training 1 hour
alternate shadow boxing with weight and jump rope 30 minutes. (2 minute rounds, alternate slow speed and fast speed)
heavy bag work 1 hour
sprint intervals 20 minutes.
resistance and weights (lift until fatigued – about an hour)
shadow boxing/jump rope 20 minutes
heavy bag work 30 minutes
technical training 30 minutes
spar. (are you getting the pattern with sparring?)
run 30 minutes at a fatiguing pace (what!?)
alternate shadow boxing with weight and jump rope 30 minutes
technical training, weight lifting, bad work (depending on your need) 1 hour+
we see where this is going. And that crazy man would do THAT workout almost DOUBLED.

That is no two to three minute training montage, my friend.

(Just so you know, Saturdays are usually used for cross training – like playing another sport or doing some kind of strenuous activity that’s NOT fighting-related. And Sundays you sleep and eat and pray your body holds up.)

So, needless to say, sometimes I’m overwhelmed with the work I have ahead of me. My dad, who is – let’s be honest here – not exactly known for his gentleness, lets me know with every athletic or physical endeavor that I am just not an athlete. He reminds me of a little (not little) injury I had when I was young, how I’m not built for sports, yada yada yada. I’ve learned to block most of it out because he can be a real ass, but he IS a healthy dose of reality. Since we’re being honest: I’m NOT an athlete. Never have been. I always came just short of it. Gymnastics, Dance, Softball, Volleyball, Surfing, etc etc – all projects I picked up and dropped because… I’m just not an athlete. Well. I have news for my body – that’s just going to have to change. Because I’m doing this thing whether my knees or wrists like it or not. Bitches.

(I like the Spanish subtitles in this one.)


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