Boxing is full of corrupt, shady people and policies.  There are many, many things I don’t like about the professional boxing industry/sport/business.  But I’ve gotta admit that boxing has given me a life beyond what I’ve dreamt about.  It has opened up many, many doors that have lead to other doors.  (Sadly, boxing has closed some doors that I regret ever closed but that won’t be discussed here).

Boxing has also made me feel better about myself than I’ve ever felt, physically.  I’m in SICK shape through nothing but boxing and running.  I’m stronger, faster, and my body looks better than ever before.  Confidence wise, I’m much more confident as a person, as a woman.  I walk taller.  I hold my head higher.  I compete in a sport only a couple of thousand women in the world do.  I compete in the #1 toughest sport in the world and man, I’ve gotta tell you, that feels pretty good.  The all out bloody battles I’ve had in the ring have helped me get through life’s even tougher challenges.

But as cool as it is to get in the ring and fight, it’s just as horrifying to lose a fight in front of thousands, and in my case in China, millions of viewers.  Spectators sit ringside or at home (some with their cigarets and beer) and pick apart with no mercy every single flaw and mistake a fighter makes.  We are ridiculed and exploited and hung out to dry.  It’s not a team sport so there’s no one to blame but ourselves.  All the pressure, all the pain, all the glory, all the blood… it’s all on us.  And we fighters are our worse critics ’cause we’ll ponder that fight for countless nights and we won’t let it go!

You might wonder why this blog is so…I don’t know…deep, I guess.  Dark, heavy.  I’m fighting an internal battle right now about boxing.  When does a fighter retire from the ring?  How will he or she know when it’s time?  Won’t there be a peace or calm within their heart when a fighter is ready to hang them up?  I thought I would be ready to quit boxing by now.  I have such a wonderful life with SO MANY other opportunities.  But MAN!  Every time I step into a ring there’s something powerful that comes over me like a drug and I can’t shake it.  I go back day after day after day… fight after fight after fight.  I love the 5AM runs.  I love the nervous plane rides to a fight.  I love getting my hands wrapped in the dressing room and slipping on the satin robe.  The feeling that comes over a fighter when they hear the words from the promoter, “Hey, let’s go, you’re up next.”  There’s that terribly lonely feeling when your trainer leaves the ring and you’re waiting for the opening bell to ring.  There’s no turning back.  Everyone is watching, waiting, to see who will bleed the most tonight.  And there’s no comparison to having your glove raised in victory.  Few things in life feel better.

So perhaps the question remains no more.  Perhaps I haven’t yet reached the end of my rope with the boxing business.  Perhaps the only rope I’m reaching for is the one that creates a square for me to pass through and fight for my life… under the lights, under the scrutinizing stares of thousands, under my own self pressure of performing well.