Prior to stepping in the ring yesterday to face a woman of wonder who kept me on my toes (more on that in a forthcoming post), I wrote an email to several members of my girl gang. This particular group is comprised of four fantastic women who, rightfully, have lifetime memberships in the tribe I’m proud to have cobbled together.
These women woke up early-ish on a Saturday, schlepping to lower Manhattan to join Coach in my ‘corner’. Of the four, three box, one is a combat sport enthusiast, and one I demanded be there because she’s kind of my ‘cutwoman‘. All rocked up because of personal interest, and also because they are simply good, supportive people.
While I wrote the email below partly out of jest—one should only take themselves so seriously in life—I also wrote it from a place of nervousness. I wanted to get my head straight and make sure my women kept their nerves in check. For as much as boxing is a merciless sport obsessed with physical punishment and prowess, it also calls for a big helping of cunning and mental toughness.
NOT MADE OF GLASS 