Boxing Bootcamp: Day 2

(Pictured: the author, courtesy of the Freedom Is Not Free Shop)

Yesterday I promised that we'd get some pertinent, on-the-scene information regarding what it's like to get hit in the face by someone you've never met.

Sadly, I'm not able to produce much on that front: I imagine getting hit in the face by someone you've never met would totally suck ass, but I didn't get hit in the face today, so I can neither confirm nor deny that description. No, unfortunately (or, rather, very fortunately for me) today included more calisthenics and running (minus punching anyone), with Simon's addition of an extended jumping rope session at the day's onset (at 6am, I'll remind you). That was hilarious -- 50+ people, some of whom know how to jump rope, most of whom don't, attempting to jump rope for 20 minutes straight. We looked like toddlers. At a glance, after about two minutes, most were yawning while struggling to get the ropes spinning, trying to jump, trying, trying... no, damnit... trying again... to jump, jump, jump, goddamnit! -- just hilarious. And by "hilarious" I mean "grueling and sweaty and embarrassing" -- which is what bootcamp's all about, right? (Lamely, I was going to say If you type "sweaty" into Google, you'll see a picture of me, at 6:30am, miserable, trying to run full-speed (read: slow) up Potrero Hill, but that's inaccurate -- you get a fake picture of Anna Kournakova sweating through her shirt and directions on how to cure persistent foot sweat. Sexy!)

Simon told me yesterday, in a non-fake Irish accent, that the first week would consist mostly of "non-contact" exercises to "get the cobwebs out." We start ass-kicking next week, then, I suppose. So that's that. Now we can move onto my second promised premise of the day:

How much will Simon and Paul make from this six week bootcamp? I only bring this up because, after class yesterday, one of my bootcamp peers said, rather nonchalantly, that 3rd Street gym "makes a fucking killing" off this. Well, what's $650 x 52? Is it $33,800? That sounds like a lot. Is it a "killing"? Maybe. But this is San Francisco, and these guys run a business. Wonder how much they're paying for that giant half-page ad they run every week in the Guardian? I can only suspect it's less than that$33,800. Regardless, here's a picture of Iggy Pop sweating:

And here's an illustrated definition of "sweaty" from the good folks at Yale's Center for Language Study:

Tomorrow: Killing small mammals to train for the Olympics. Plus: nutrition!

Boxing Bootcamp is a bit of fun orchestrated by 3rd Street Gym, SF Weekly's Matt Stroud, and Rob Quintiliani from the SF Bay Guardian; the fun involves Rob and Matt training for 6 weeks before pummeling each other publicly for everyone's amusement. Questions? Write to Matt Stroud.