The Introverted Lawyer by Heidi K. Brown

Author:Heidi K. Brown
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: American Bar Association
Published: 2017-03-05T16:00:00+00:00

BREATH

We all know our brains need oxygen to function, yet sometimes, we forget to breathe.

* * *

Last year, feeling that my fitness regimen had reached a plateau, I enrolled in a lesson at an authentic boxing gym called Trinity Boxing in Lower Manhattan. I already work out almost daily—lifting weights, climbing the treadmill on a steep incline, spinning at SoulCycle—so I figured, how hard could boxing be? Plus, I’m a fan of the sport.

At my lesson, I started off strong, dancing through jump-rope drills, listening for a two-minute bell to signal my stops and starts. Then, my trainer, Butch, wrapped my hands in bright yellow gauzy tape and slid on my first pair of boxing gloves. Through more two-minute drills, he taught me how to jab, cross, hook, and upper-cut. He adjusted my stance, coaching me to pivot my foot with each punch, “like squashing a lit cigarette.” He reminded me, “Keep your hands up to protect your face. Stop overthinking. Relax.” And then he put me in the ring. For another two minutes, he directed: “Jab, cross, hook, duck, swish, shuffle …” while he skipped around the ring and I followed. I felt great, and powerful. At first. The bell rang. We stopped. A twinge of dizziness washed over me, but I managed to lift my smartwater bottle with the bulbous boxing gloves and pour water down my throat. The bell clanged and we started anew. I made it through the next round but when the stop bell pinged, I stumbled. I tried to hang onto the ropes but my gloved hands felt like giant mushy pillows. The room orbited. “Stick her in a chair underneath the fan and grab her a Gatorade!” I heard the gym owner John yell to Butch. That neon blue Gatorade tasted like nectar of the gods. As I regained coherence, John and Butch summed it up, “You forgot to breathe.” They were right. I was so worried about failing. About looking foolish, punching “like a girl” in a predominantly male gym, seeming like I didn’t belong. All that brain chatter. Not enough air. I needed to breathe, and remind myself that punching like a girl involves authentic inherent power. You are a girl; punch hard like one.

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