Some good, some bad

IT FEELS like a return from the wilderness.

When you box, at any level, it has a habit of taking over your life. You obsess about how much you eat and what you eat. You wonder if you'll lose all your friends because you keep giving the pub a swerve. You fear that you'll lose your wife because you keep going to bed at 10, just when she's getting warmed up on the sauvignon blanc. You beat yourself up if you miss a day or - worse - a session in the gym. Yup, it plays with your mind. Big time.

But then, if you stop, what is your life without boxing? OK, so there may have been a bit of mental torture involved, but then there were the plusses. I'm the kind of person that needs lots of anger management. Can you think of a better way to keep the temper in check (particularly when there are so many tossers in the world) than walloping a set of bags three or more times a week?

You don't drink, so no hangovers. You go to bed early, because your body demands it, but your mind is fresh (that's a weird experience for the modern office worker - having a body that needs more rest than the mind). It leaves you fresh for work, and fresh for concentrating on your family, jobs around the house, days out. That means that you can get up with the kids, take them and the dog out, then return and make your wife breakfast in bed after she's had a lie-in. In other words - maximum brownie points.

You smile more, you appreciate the world around you more. And, once a week, you climb through the ropes and face the ultimate challenge. Just you, the other bloke, and nowhere to hide. You need the mentality, but if you've ever been excited by boxing, the chances are that you have it already.

I have gone back to boxing, after at least six months in the wilderness. I've followed my old trainer, Steve Robinson (a former world champion) to his new gym in Cardiff, called Fitness Factory Cymru, which he is running with his mate, Mike Parsons, a talented rugby player in his own right.

I say I've gone back. That, in Duncan terms, means I've spent a morning there banging bags, and I've now done my fitness test. As the title says, it's been a tale of some good, some bad. Good - I didn't feel anywhere near as unfocussed as I thought I would on the bags, and I also did alright to quite good on my fitness tests. Bad - I tired easily, ached afterwards and six months of smoking and living the corporate lifestyle has taken it's toll. Time to live like a monk.

- If you've chanced across this, I should explain the title. I used to work for a newspaper and also wrote a blog called Boxing Aches. I've since moved on and, seeing as I'm at a new gym and pretty much in a new life, a new boxing blog was called for. I hope you like.