How I Dress to Box at 89

I hate exercising almost as much as I hate kale and other “healthy” eats. I am a blackbelt in fork to mouth movements. In fact I’m pretty much a couch peach (I am not a potato in any form).

However, knees and arms and hips do give way to progressing age which in my case is “don’t ask don’t tell” but past the 80th parallel and my recent consultation with one of my numerous doctors resulted in a stern warning about the various “itis”and “osis” that flesh is heir to.

So, I scheduled a series with a physical therapist who saw immediately that my sullen performance would not work out.

To my amazement, he recommended boxing. Boxing at my age?! He explained that I did not need a corner or silk shorts or helmet or teeth guard. Just a pair of good sneakers would help.

I was embarrassed to tell him that such shoes had never made a home in my closet. I purchased a dark and unremarkable pair with zippers and Velcro, which are, along with elastic waists, the best thing to happen to seniors since Medicare.

He fitted me for gloves, which my enthusiastic but incredulous daughter purchased for me with the name “King Salomon” (my married and maiden name.

(yes in those times there were maidens instead of “scores”).

The day came and we started some punches and offensive and defensive moves. And I was actually having fun and moving arms and legs swiftly and laughing. The first round elicited some cramping of limbs that were formerly unemployed except for hooking a bra.

My balance improved and while the moves winded me very slightly I grew to love our bouts and now go twice a week.

Sanjay my therapist is a wonderful guide who is now talking about kickboxing in the future. You never know, but wrestling is definitely out!!!!

Photos by Lila King