Day 15
I've fallen off the bandwagon guys, I smoked and drank last night. *Cringes away from the imagined stares of disapproval.
It just happened, I wanted to get that off my chest before this post went any further. I'm sorry to everyone up there on the moral high ground. I used to live there once. It was nice up there. Down here it's all sadness and hangovers. If it's any consolation (I know it's not) I was slip-slip-rolling all over Lillies, and yes, yes I did look like a Grade-A loser.
I feel terrible, this is not going to happen again until after the fight. Soooooooo angry at myself. And the worst thing of all, my anti-smoking housemates were so understanding. I am such a horrible person.
Not much happened really, I think because fight night is so close it's a case of tying off any loose ends. For most of the session, us ladies worked out on the bags while the guys sparred. Then once the guys were done, Richie gave us all one quick sparring session.
We went for 3 rounds, and I was surprised that I felt reasonably ok afterwards. But that is before I reverted back to my old persona, Smokey Jo-sephine. We'll see how I get on tonight.
One thing I gleamed from the latest sparring session is that my fight is all in my head. When I'm feeling good, I fight well, when I'm feeling anxious or nervous, I fight badly. I know that sounds like an obvious thing to most athletes, sporty types but it's something I have just realised. #hindsightis20/20
Now I just have to work on my mental game, stay focused, not be afraid and don't worry. At the end of the day, none of us are professional fighters and this is for charity. Afterwards, we will share some laughs, buy each other a pint and apologise for any injuries we may have given someone. I think some of us are getting flashes of Million Dollar Baby style endings. We need to chill out and by we, I mean me.
Also, I would like to give some props to my gurrrrl, Rainie Somers (best name in the world), for being a big leg-end and co-organising the first annual Dublin Barman Quiz and donating all monies to Pieta House. #Gowanyagudting
Ok you guys,
See you tonight,
I'm going to see if I can run off the shame.
Damn you Smokey Jo-sephine, damn you.
Thursday 28 February 2013
Sunday 24 February 2013
Dublin Pub Box - Miscellaneous
Day 14
Anxiety from previous session still alive and well ? - check.
Cryptic tweet from @DublinPubBox that worsens aforementioned anxiety - check.
Surprise cameo from a former World Champion boxer - check.
So first things first, the lovely Bernard Dunne dropped into the National Stadium to give us some handy pre-fight advice. Note - Eat at least 3 hours before the fight, a) because of digestion and b) because you will be nervous. Guess which reasoning I'm going with. He gave us loads more tips but that's the one that stuck out in my head. Typical me, always thinking about my belly. He stayed on for a good while to answer our questions and give us a couple of his best blue steel poses. I was on camera duty so only got one chance to get a photo and it was blurry. #firstworldproblems
Then after that unexpected excitement it was back to the grind. You know, the usual, touching your inner ankle while jumping in the air and touching the ground with the odd torso twist thrown in to keep things fresh. #simples
I know I am usually jokey and light hearted but on a serious note Day 14 of Dublin Pub Box was definitely not my brightest moment. I'm distracted by my worry. But my distraction in the ring earned me 2 well aimed right hooks to the head. My brain was so rattled I saw stars for about 10 seconds. All that prattle about me being good defensively, scratch that. I was holding my head up like a floating duck waiting to be taken out. I know what I did wrong but I have to admit, my confidence is sorely shaken. I feel like I've hit a wall and then been hit over the head with said wall.
I know I need to stop dwelling on this stuff and think of the bigger picture but I can't help myself. Tonight Matthew I'm going to be a ....sad boxer :(.
But my self-indulgence is distracting me from the whole point of this bloody thing - raising money for a wonderful and unfortunately in-demand charity -Pieta House.
Last year alone, Pieta House helped over 3,000 people. They have counselled people from as young as 8 years of age all the way up to 80. Hard to swallow isn't it, that someone as young as 8 would contemplate taking their own life. Someone who should be full of innocence and blissfully ignorant of life's ills should never know the darkness of suicide. Really puts my petty problems into perspective. If you're interested and have 3 minutes and 40 seconds to spare here is the story behind Pieta House;
See you all tomorrow night,
Until then lets just be thankful for everything we have.
Carlynn xxx
Also, Bernard Dunne is a legend. That is all. Goodbye.
Anxiety from previous session still alive and well ? - check.
Cryptic tweet from @DublinPubBox that worsens aforementioned anxiety - check.
Surprise cameo from a former World Champion boxer - check.
So first things first, the lovely Bernard Dunne dropped into the National Stadium to give us some handy pre-fight advice. Note - Eat at least 3 hours before the fight, a) because of digestion and b) because you will be nervous. Guess which reasoning I'm going with. He gave us loads more tips but that's the one that stuck out in my head. Typical me, always thinking about my belly. He stayed on for a good while to answer our questions and give us a couple of his best blue steel poses. I was on camera duty so only got one chance to get a photo and it was blurry. #firstworldproblems
Then after that unexpected excitement it was back to the grind. You know, the usual, touching your inner ankle while jumping in the air and touching the ground with the odd torso twist thrown in to keep things fresh. #simples
I know I am usually jokey and light hearted but on a serious note Day 14 of Dublin Pub Box was definitely not my brightest moment. I'm distracted by my worry. But my distraction in the ring earned me 2 well aimed right hooks to the head. My brain was so rattled I saw stars for about 10 seconds. All that prattle about me being good defensively, scratch that. I was holding my head up like a floating duck waiting to be taken out. I know what I did wrong but I have to admit, my confidence is sorely shaken. I feel like I've hit a wall and then been hit over the head with said wall.
I know I need to stop dwelling on this stuff and think of the bigger picture but I can't help myself. Tonight Matthew I'm going to be a ....sad boxer :(.
But my self-indulgence is distracting me from the whole point of this bloody thing - raising money for a wonderful and unfortunately in-demand charity -Pieta House.
Last year alone, Pieta House helped over 3,000 people. They have counselled people from as young as 8 years of age all the way up to 80. Hard to swallow isn't it, that someone as young as 8 would contemplate taking their own life. Someone who should be full of innocence and blissfully ignorant of life's ills should never know the darkness of suicide. Really puts my petty problems into perspective. If you're interested and have 3 minutes and 40 seconds to spare here is the story behind Pieta House;
See you all tomorrow night,
Until then lets just be thankful for everything we have.
Carlynn xxx
Also, Bernard Dunne is a legend. That is all. Goodbye.
Wednesday 20 February 2013
Dublin Pub Box - YOLO
Day 13
EEEEEEEEEEEPPPPPPPPPP!!!! Prior to last night's training session I had an overwhelming sense of doom. All weekend, the anxiety was growing and growing until I thought about not going to training. I genuinely don't know why it was this particular session that freaked me out but it did. Maybe subconsciously I realised that it was session no. 13....
Also, Tuesday morning I went and bought some head gear on Capel street. Considering the location I should probably clarify that I purchased boxing head gear and not a gimp mask. Although the latter might have been both cheaper and more becoming of a young lady such as myself. I have to say didn't feel my most attractive with that glorified lagging jacket/sweat bucket on my head, that was not helped by the two half-naked blondes cavorting around ring no.3. Eugh!!
Heard through the grapevine that we might find out who our opponents are this Thursday. I am completely crapping my pants now. I would much rather not know...I think....I don't really know what I want to know to be honest. Why have I signed up for this bloody thing?!?! What's wrong with me? Why did I choose to put myself in a small amount of space with someone who wants to knock my block off? Why have I not realised what I have done until right now? Why have I enjoyed every minute of it up until now? Why do I have a sneaking suspicion that I am going to keep this up once the match is over? Why? Why? Bloody why?
I came home from training in a bit of a panic and thought the only way to master my fear was by eating a snickers and half a bag of bourbons. They didn't help me master anything but they did distract me from the whole boxing thing for a while as I debated which was healthier; smoking or obesity, because since I quit smoking I've been eating everything that hasn't been nailed to the ground.
Anyway, I know I say this every week but this s**t just got very real. By the time fight night comes I will be inhabiting an alternate realm of hyper reality where I am completely incapacitated by my own fear, kinda like these guys;
Until tomorrow guys,
Remember YOLO, be careful-O,
Carlynn
xxx
EEEEEEEEEEEPPPPPPPPPP!!!! Prior to last night's training session I had an overwhelming sense of doom. All weekend, the anxiety was growing and growing until I thought about not going to training. I genuinely don't know why it was this particular session that freaked me out but it did. Maybe subconsciously I realised that it was session no. 13....
Also, Tuesday morning I went and bought some head gear on Capel street. Considering the location I should probably clarify that I purchased boxing head gear and not a gimp mask. Although the latter might have been both cheaper and more becoming of a young lady such as myself. I have to say didn't feel my most attractive with that glorified lagging jacket/sweat bucket on my head, that was not helped by the two half-naked blondes cavorting around ring no.3. Eugh!!
Heard through the grapevine that we might find out who our opponents are this Thursday. I am completely crapping my pants now. I would much rather not know...I think....I don't really know what I want to know to be honest. Why have I signed up for this bloody thing?!?! What's wrong with me? Why did I choose to put myself in a small amount of space with someone who wants to knock my block off? Why have I not realised what I have done until right now? Why have I enjoyed every minute of it up until now? Why do I have a sneaking suspicion that I am going to keep this up once the match is over? Why? Why? Bloody why?
I came home from training in a bit of a panic and thought the only way to master my fear was by eating a snickers and half a bag of bourbons. They didn't help me master anything but they did distract me from the whole boxing thing for a while as I debated which was healthier; smoking or obesity, because since I quit smoking I've been eating everything that hasn't been nailed to the ground.
Anyway, I know I say this every week but this s**t just got very real. By the time fight night comes I will be inhabiting an alternate realm of hyper reality where I am completely incapacitated by my own fear, kinda like these guys;
Until tomorrow guys,
Remember YOLO, be careful-O,
Carlynn
xxx
Monday 18 February 2013
Dublin Pub Box - Mrs. Potato Head
Days 10/11/12
So sorry I've fallen off the radar the last few sessions guys. Life and love respectively have kept me away from both training and blogspot.com. Firstly, I was ill for Day 10, I went to Day 11 and had to work for the 12th training session as it was Die Hard Day also known as Valentines. A big night in the pub calendar. So here's what's gone down since we last spoke;
To be perfectly honest the first sparring session was a complete waste of everyone's time. Myself and Michelle would have been better off tickling each other and making friendship bracelets for the minute and a half we were supposed to punch each other in the head. #BFFs
The second one was more like an actual round. I say this because I was absolutely exhausted after about 50 seconds. I just remember John roaring "This is the battle of the Jab hands". It sounded so like Jazz hands that I couldn't help laughing. Then I hit Lisa and apologised for it! John told me to stop apologising for hitting her, it's kinda what I'm here for. Then I apologised to John for apologising. #sozbabes
The third one was quite nervewracking because it was against Niamh and in my opinion she is one of the strongest. So I just went in there ready to receive a bit of a beating and I didn't. It turns out my defence is quite good. I just need to punch more. Apparently they don't give you points for defence. #bummer
Then as if that wasn't punishment enough in itself the only pictures the photographers took of me were during the sparring. My face looks like a squashed potato in all of them. Seriously guys thanks for that. Here's one of the pics as proof --->
Then we had to fill in our boxing profiles for the pamphlets and they ask you what's your fighting style....Seriously!!! There is absolutely nothing stylish about the way I fight. This guy on the other hand...even his nickname is better than mine;
''I'll see ya tamarraw after school'',
Carlynn,
xxx
So sorry I've fallen off the radar the last few sessions guys. Life and love respectively have kept me away from both training and blogspot.com. Firstly, I was ill for Day 10, I went to Day 11 and had to work for the 12th training session as it was Die Hard Day also known as Valentines. A big night in the pub calendar. So here's what's gone down since we last spoke;
- I'm still off the cigarettes. 14 days and counting,
- I've confirmed Honey Badger as my boxing nickname - There's no going back now. *Wrings hands fretfully,
- I sparred for the first time on Day 11. As with everything in that god forsaken gym, it was an eye-opener, ironic really, when you think about how it usually manages to close a few eyes in the process.
I sparred 3 times; once with Michelle, once with Lisa and once with Niamh.
The second one was more like an actual round. I say this because I was absolutely exhausted after about 50 seconds. I just remember John roaring "This is the battle of the Jab hands". It sounded so like Jazz hands that I couldn't help laughing. Then I hit Lisa and apologised for it! John told me to stop apologising for hitting her, it's kinda what I'm here for. Then I apologised to John for apologising. #sozbabes
The third one was quite nervewracking because it was against Niamh and in my opinion she is one of the strongest. So I just went in there ready to receive a bit of a beating and I didn't. It turns out my defence is quite good. I just need to punch more. Apparently they don't give you points for defence. #bummer
Then as if that wasn't punishment enough in itself the only pictures the photographers took of me were during the sparring. My face looks like a squashed potato in all of them. Seriously guys thanks for that. Here's one of the pics as proof --->
Then we had to fill in our boxing profiles for the pamphlets and they ask you what's your fighting style....Seriously!!! There is absolutely nothing stylish about the way I fight. This guy on the other hand...even his nickname is better than mine;
''I'll see ya tamarraw after school'',
Carlynn,
xxx
Wednesday 6 February 2013
Dublin Pub Box - The cold shoulder
Day 9
So Tuesday, full of good intentions, I went to the National Stadium at 5.30pm to get an extra hour of training in, only to be greeted by a locked door and sub-zero temperatures. Not conducive to good intentions or blood flow. Stood around for 30 minutes, freezing my ass off debating whether or not to just head home and go on the absolute lash with a friend of mine.
Got into the high performance gym at around 6pm, stiff, runny-nosed and feeling very sorry for myself. I also have a pretty bad cold and a chest infection, so my little sojourn outside didn't really help matters.
Inside, there were no pads so we just went to work on the bags. I really need to work on my speed so I decided to practice quick jabs for 20 minutes. This it turns out wasn't my brightest idea, considering the emphasis of our training was bag work and squats, plus I had no partner. So I did double the work.
Today I am about as useful as an ashtray on a motorbike. I can barely move my arms and don't get me started on my ass. Every time I stand up/sit down/cough/laugh/move in general something twinges or aches. I reached to get some coffee from the top shelf earlier and pulled something in my left butt cheek that was never intended to be pulled.
I have a pain in my stomach as well and I don't know if it comes from coughing or that finally after years of half-arsed trips to the gym I am getting the abs of my dreams. Unfortunately, I think it may be the former.
I planned on watching the rest of the Rocky movies over the weekend but decided to have a Harry Potter marathon instead. I know right, super useful! I can tell you all the rules of Quidditch but my shadow-boxing still leaves a lot to be desired.
I really need to get my Rocky marathon out of the way because the new Die Hard is out soon therefore I'm due a Die Hard marathon. So many movie marathons, so little time. These are the things that keep me up at night people?!?!?!? What to do, what to do.
I've also been off the cigarettes for 48 hours and I haven't eaten any of my loved ones alive, which is a good thing, however, I haven't taken my head out of the fridge in days, I might as well just pull up a chair. I think this non-smoking will power has more to do with my chest infection than any real internal strength on my part.
I'm feeling too sorry for myself to do any kind of training over the next few days. I'm going to go for a paracetamol induced nap and maybe watch Rocky II.
Laters my dears,
Carlynn
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
PS. Regards nicknames I was thinking Carlynn 'the honey badger' McCarthy, here's why;
So Tuesday, full of good intentions, I went to the National Stadium at 5.30pm to get an extra hour of training in, only to be greeted by a locked door and sub-zero temperatures. Not conducive to good intentions or blood flow. Stood around for 30 minutes, freezing my ass off debating whether or not to just head home and go on the absolute lash with a friend of mine.
Got into the high performance gym at around 6pm, stiff, runny-nosed and feeling very sorry for myself. I also have a pretty bad cold and a chest infection, so my little sojourn outside didn't really help matters.
Inside, there were no pads so we just went to work on the bags. I really need to work on my speed so I decided to practice quick jabs for 20 minutes. This it turns out wasn't my brightest idea, considering the emphasis of our training was bag work and squats, plus I had no partner. So I did double the work.
Today I am about as useful as an ashtray on a motorbike. I can barely move my arms and don't get me started on my ass. Every time I stand up/sit down/cough/laugh/move in general something twinges or aches. I reached to get some coffee from the top shelf earlier and pulled something in my left butt cheek that was never intended to be pulled.
I have a pain in my stomach as well and I don't know if it comes from coughing or that finally after years of half-arsed trips to the gym I am getting the abs of my dreams. Unfortunately, I think it may be the former.
I planned on watching the rest of the Rocky movies over the weekend but decided to have a Harry Potter marathon instead. I know right, super useful! I can tell you all the rules of Quidditch but my shadow-boxing still leaves a lot to be desired.
I really need to get my Rocky marathon out of the way because the new Die Hard is out soon therefore I'm due a Die Hard marathon. So many movie marathons, so little time. These are the things that keep me up at night people?!?!?!? What to do, what to do.
I've also been off the cigarettes for 48 hours and I haven't eaten any of my loved ones alive, which is a good thing, however, I haven't taken my head out of the fridge in days, I might as well just pull up a chair. I think this non-smoking will power has more to do with my chest infection than any real internal strength on my part.
I'm feeling too sorry for myself to do any kind of training over the next few days. I'm going to go for a paracetamol induced nap and maybe watch Rocky II.
Laters my dears,
Carlynn
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
PS. Regards nicknames I was thinking Carlynn 'the honey badger' McCarthy, here's why;
Friday 1 February 2013
Dublin Pub Box - Return of the McC
Day 8
FYI - You guys should read the following blog post with Mark Morrsion's classic 90s track 'Return of the mack' playing in your heads. If you need to refresh your memory please click here.
Tuesday I hit a wall but now I'm back in the game. I'm the proud owner of a new skipping rope - thank you Terry. If Carlsberg did equipment fairies...
(Some nice product placement there, if anyone from Carlsberg is reading this, I am open to accepting huge amounts of cash in order to promote your beverage here. Integrity is over-rated and my current account is under-performing at the moment. So like I said, please feel free to get in touch.)
Training was excruciating as ever. Richie, if you're reading this; you are a horrible, horrible man but a great trainer.
I swing from loving him to hating him about 16 times a night. I'll love him again when I have abs of steel, right now they look more like wrinkly pre-used tinfoil, but I have it on good authority that calves are the new abs so I'm not too worried.
Shadow-boxed today. Felt a little bit silly at first, but really got into it. Then my short attention span kicked in and before I knew it I was quoting Robert De Niro's character from Taxi Driver in English and Irish; "An bhfuil tusa ag labhairt liomsa?", while plucking my eyebrows and exfoliating my T-zone. After that, I watched Rocky I. Now I really want a running partner called Buttkiss.....any takers? You don't have to be officially called Buttkiss, you just have to allow me to call you that as we run through the streets of Dublin.
*Speaks out of the corner of her mouth and whispers; "I'm also toying with the idea of giving up cigarettes." *Shocked at her own level of daring, she looks around furtively to see if anyone else has over heard ie her anti-smoking housemates who will be sure to hold her to it.
To be honest, I'm a little bit sick of sounding like a bad extra from some tuberculosis-filled period drama. I'm whooping like I've got the black lung for christ sake. Plus, if Rocky can do it, so can I.
Remember guys " be a thinker not a stinker",
Until Tuesday,
Carlynn xxx
FYI - You guys should read the following blog post with Mark Morrsion's classic 90s track 'Return of the mack' playing in your heads. If you need to refresh your memory please click here.
Tuesday I hit a wall but now I'm back in the game. I'm the proud owner of a new skipping rope - thank you Terry. If Carlsberg did equipment fairies...
(Some nice product placement there, if anyone from Carlsberg is reading this, I am open to accepting huge amounts of cash in order to promote your beverage here. Integrity is over-rated and my current account is under-performing at the moment. So like I said, please feel free to get in touch.)
Training was excruciating as ever. Richie, if you're reading this; you are a horrible, horrible man but a great trainer.
I swing from loving him to hating him about 16 times a night. I'll love him again when I have abs of steel, right now they look more like wrinkly pre-used tinfoil, but I have it on good authority that calves are the new abs so I'm not too worried.
Shadow-boxed today. Felt a little bit silly at first, but really got into it. Then my short attention span kicked in and before I knew it I was quoting Robert De Niro's character from Taxi Driver in English and Irish; "An bhfuil tusa ag labhairt liomsa?", while plucking my eyebrows and exfoliating my T-zone. After that, I watched Rocky I. Now I really want a running partner called Buttkiss.....any takers? You don't have to be officially called Buttkiss, you just have to allow me to call you that as we run through the streets of Dublin.
*Speaks out of the corner of her mouth and whispers; "I'm also toying with the idea of giving up cigarettes." *Shocked at her own level of daring, she looks around furtively to see if anyone else has over heard ie her anti-smoking housemates who will be sure to hold her to it.
To be honest, I'm a little bit sick of sounding like a bad extra from some tuberculosis-filled period drama. I'm whooping like I've got the black lung for christ sake. Plus, if Rocky can do it, so can I.
Remember guys " be a thinker not a stinker",
Until Tuesday,
Carlynn xxx
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