Fighting for his life

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On Thursday morning, July17th, we headed on out on a road trip together for the first time in our follow-up documentary. We loaded up a pair of cars, as the new crew has four more fans, and went west from Las Vegas to Los Angeles. Our first stop was in Costa Mesa - near Huntingon Beach, for those who don’t know the lay of the land. I made contact with Anne Adams, a Rock Steady Boxing Coach, about a year ago after seeing their story on CBS Sunday Morning (http://www.cbsnews.com/pictures/fighting-parkinsons-with-boxing/). I asked if I could bring Dad in and video his efforts. She said yes.

Walking in the gym, we were a bit harried. A long morning drive, typical L.A./Orange traffic and an overtired screaming three year old added to the mix. I waved goodbye to my mom and wife with the kids fearing their return (“she screamed the whole time!!!” NOTE: She didn’t. Whew.). I walked into the gym with my dad and he said, “So what are we doing here?” I almost wanted to punch him. I had told him several times. We drove five hours for this. And now he wants to know what we’re doing? Thankfully, my dad being my dad, he rolled with it. More than that, he steamrolled it. He got in, was introduced around by the incredibly kind Adams, then got his hands wrapped up.

Dad told me a story the day before about his previous boxing experience – about 50  years prior. As the story goes, he boxed in high school and bloodied his best friends nose. They’re still friends in case you’re wondering. He also was involved in some kind of early fight club in college, though I couldn’t get much more out of him than that. At any rate, dad had swung his fists before, so I was looking forward to the show.

He got the gloves on and was taken straight to the ring. The group of athletes (“They are not patients,” Adams said. “They are athletes”) had warmed up and I could tell by my dad’s smile he was feeling good. There were three other athletes in the ring with him. For a minute I wondered if he wasn’t being thrown into a Parkinson’s Boxing Battle Royale. Dad didn’t look worried. The trainer took the athletes one by one into the middle of the ring for two minutes of training. The gloves the athletes wore weighed 16 ounces. The punches they threw were real. The combination of punches called out by the trainer were followed and leather popped, with footwork connecting to each throw, the mind finding the body.

I teared up as I watched my dad take his turn not once, not twice, but three times. Each time he seemed to get better, more coordinated and smiling bigger. He straightened up and came alive in the ring. Several athletes and onlookers said, “Is this his first time? He looks great.” At the end of his third round, he threw his hands in the air a la Rocky.

The class went on with other boxing and footwork drills after the ring. They stretched out at the end, then stood in front of a mirror and addressed themselves positively, affirmatively. My dad doesn’t look in the mirror much – he says he’s not sure what that guy looks like at any given time and that gives him some of his hesitation. I think he doesn’t want to accept some of what that guy looks like because it doesn’t match the guy in his mind. Last in the line of athletes, my dad heard what the other athletes had to say before him. Several of them said they were inspired by watching my dad as part of their own affirmation and experience of the workout. Dad said his peace to himself, then was reminded by Anne to tell himself he loves the guy in the mirror. “I love you,” Dad said to himself.

The Boys of Summer roll along, but we need your help to complete this year's journey. Please see our site for the latest on how to contribute. Thank you!