October 31, 2012 by cieramilo
In Surfing, “switchfoot” is when you *switch* *feet* to get a different angle on a wave. If you are “goofy-footed” that means you lead with the right foot on whatever board you’re using (surf, snow, skate, etc). In Boxing, if you lead with your right foot it’s called “Southpaw” … who the hell knows why. Either way it really throws your opponent off and you have a different advantage for blocking and such. I sparred with a southpaw guy the other day and…trust me, it was bad.
Reader, you don’t get a segue for this one. I feel like life is coming at me as a southpaw fighter these days. I’m thrown for a loop and seriously can’t get my bearings. My life is giving me whiplash.
A few weeks ago I told you about a job lead that I had in South Georgia. To recap, I was told about an open position at a nonprofit that I was specifically thought of to fill. The position is in my field, pays real money, and has room to grow. Seems like a given. But there’s a problem. I am from this crazy land of South GA and have sufficiently despised it most of my conscious life. Plus I love Atlanta!! All that’s happening here (ahem ahem ACFN!!!), all my friends, etc etc. BUT I have also delivered well over 200 applications and resumes to so-called availabilities only to get about 3 interviews, 100% rejection, and an hourly just-over-minimum-wage-bat-shit-crazy job. So, you see my dilemma.
Well, I interviewed on Friday and was offered the job. Wait…what really happened was I sent in my information on Tuesday, was asked to interview on Wednesday, gave her my availability (which included that Friday), interviewed on Friday …. and four hours after the interview, I was offered the job. BOOM!!!!!!!!! Did you just feel like you got punched in the face by opportunity, because I did. (I also was let go from my hourly job when I put in my two weeks notice, so…double jab.)
As I was driving the 300 miles south east, I was wracking my brain with this decision. If they offered me the job, would I take it? what about Atlanta? what about my romantic little pauper life I had going here? and what about ACFN?? I am a strategic person to a fault; there is next to nothing that could happen that I haven’t in some way already planned for. So, I started thinking about what would happen to all those little elements of my life if I transferred it 300 miles south east.
I called, texted, and messaged just about every person I knew to talk to about the logistics of training on the coast (PSA- don’t text and drive. Really, don’t.). I talked to my grandmother (not about fighting, she’ll never know), to get grandmotherly advice because she’ll always be in my corner. I talked to one of my best friends, Sulli, because she’ll give me the cold hard facts and knows my feelings about “home”. Finally, I was so stressed out about what to do, that I just went to the source and called Terri Moss to talk it through. Terri is the manager of Atlanta Corporate Fight Night, a fighter herself, and just a general bad ass. I needed someone to tell me my options or that I was crazy for trying to move AND do this boxing thing. (Because, if I’m being really honest, boxing is one of the biggest reasons I would hesitate to jump on any opportunity that would come my way. Boxing was in Atlanta. If I left Atlanta, I couldn’t box. Right?)
Wrong. Terri immediately started listing of gyms and teams and trainers on the coast. I must have a list of 5 legitimate gyms within an hour of what would be my new home. That was pretty surprising! I guess violence as a sport is universal, even in the backwoods. I was quick to make some phone calls to see if these were real leads or if I would just get tossed aside as a hopeless training cause (because, I bet I look like one most days). And I found actually a few people who were interested in helping me specifically. Also surprising! I am constantly taken aback by the willingness of folks in this sport to help someone out. Every trainer, gym manager, and fighter I have met has helped me in some way. Honestly, the charity in boxing and other combat sports is almost as impressive as their egos. (jab jab)
I went into the interview ready to win it, regardless of the consequences. And I did. Contracts have been signed (with the Nonprofit AND with ACFN…eeeek!!). So on Monday, I will don business casual, sit at my desk, and for the first time be called upon to use my skills as a professional. I will get to work (read: I will be allowed to work). Later, I will don my newly gifted 16oz gloves (thanks Joel!), trek to a new gym (one very different from X3), and earn my stripes in a new gym. I will get to work.
All of this happened within a few days. Whiplash.
As an aside. The new gym I will be going to was introduced like this from the manager, “I know that X3 is a nice gym. We’re not so nice.”
“How much do you weigh?”
“Well I’m one-forty-”
“How tall are you?”
“5’3″ when I-”
“Yeah, how old are you?”
“K we don’t have any girls in our gym. I’ll tell the guys not to hit you too hard. We work out in a building by the high school soccer field. You know where it is? K. Call me when you’re in town and we’ll get you in the ring.”
Breon Smiley (one of my trainers at X3) is a freakin’ angel in comparison with this guy. Can’t wait for Monday.