Transcript of Bitesize Ep 68 - Transcript
Charlie:
Hello, hello, hello and welcome to another bite sized episode of the British English Podcast with me, your host, Charlie Baxter. And in today's one, I'd like to give you some classic Charlie chatter, because, well, over the last three years of having done this podcast, I've managed to pick up a number of injuries from rupturing a ligament in my knee twice, breaking my thumb and my ring finger. And I think something else. But yes, quite a few injuries, and I felt compelled to keep you informed of these damaging tales. And today I sit here with a new injury to discuss. Don't worry though, it shouldn't put you off your lunch or anything, so I'd say most squeamish people could stay with me on this one, as the injury itself isn't too hard to stomach, but the way in which I got there might be worth exploring. So let me expose you to a load of native phrases in hopefully an entertaining way. And if you wanted to, the Premium and Academy memberships offer a load of learning resources to support your journey in this episode and every other episode I have on this podcast. So if you're interested in that, head over to the British English Podcast.com. If not though, stay tuned here and enjoy an episode of Charlie Chatter. So to set the scene, I suppose we should recap my relationship with exercise. For over a decade now, I've been a member of a variety of gyms wherever I've resided, but have never really managed to keep up a consistent routine to make any lasting progress.
Charlie:
Until I was introduced to boxing. When I moved back to the UK from Australia at the end of last year in 2022, whilst trying to find a flat to rent in London, I was temporarily living in my late grandparents house and looking after their sausage dogs. And as this area has been gentrified over the years, it is a rather affluent place in the UK. And what comes with a gentrified, affluent village? A bougie gym, yes, a very, very bougie gym indeed. And as it was the only one in the area, we felt obliged to give it a go. So my now wife and I went to a bunch of exercise classes there, and after getting to know the trainers and clientele, we were encouraged to try out the boxing classes, which were far from your typical boxing experience. In fact, this was a gym where I would come out of the class and Stacey would excitedly explain about the fact that we'd just spent an hour sweating it out with an A-list celebrity. I'd often be a bit oblivious to all of this, as I'm not that into, um, well, you could say I'm not that into Keeping Up With the Kardashians. Yeah, let's let's say that, um, and I actually remember getting into small talk with one guy, and after asking him what he does for a living, he awkwardly responded, saying, oh, I'm a I'm a football player.
Charlie:
And I googled him. And to my horror, he was not only in the Premier League, but he also played for England in the last World Cup. So I felt a bit of a dunce now and again, meeting these very successful and well-known people to most, but typically throughout the months, whilst learning how to throw a punch, I was hitting the bags with what some might call yummy mummies, and these yummy mummies were residing in the county that is called Surrey and Surrey in the UK is stereotyped as a wealthy or certainly posh county, and the trainers were incredibly professional and very knowledgeable and really helped me learn the ropes. So fast forward a few months and I felt pretty comfortable on the pads, throwing combos, ducking and weaving and I would get a sweat on every time I went. But the time had come to say goodbye to our new community of celebrities and yummy mummies, as we'd found a place to rent at long last in London. So off we went to the Big Smoke and a couple of weeks go past and my boxing gloves were collecting dust and the love handles were back with vengeance. So I had a little Google and to my delight, loads of boxing gyms popped up. In the area buzzing about this new chapter. I skipped down the road to the nearest one to check it out, and when I got to the building, I realised before even stepping foot in this place that I'd need to adjust my expectations.
Charlie:
A heavily rusted front door, slightly off its hinges, served as the first layer of defence in repelling any upscale gym enthusiasts. Feeling chuffed that I had guessed the door was a pull, not a push, given that the engraving was no longer legible, I approached the front desk and was greeted by a short woman tattooed from head to toe, sporting a buzz cut, and she greeted me with the deepest of voices, indicating that she had perhaps experienced some performance-enhancing drugs in her time, as she very nicely told me that they do indeed do boxing classes here at this gym, she said. We do it Monday, Wednesday and Saturday and any level of boxer is welcome. But Saturdays are sparring sessions so maybe avoid them if you want to just work on technique. I thanked her and said I'll be back on Wednesday. So back I go, excitedly, a few days later with my gloves and wraps in my hands, ready to sweat buckets again and and work on my technique, I got up the stairs and see a boxing ring, along with a UFC cage and a bunch of bags lined up with about 20 guys that all looked like they could easily be extras on a documentary that's focusing on gang wars or something. And so I quickly popped my glasses in my bag, took a deep breath, and adopted a more colloquial accent.
Charlie:
You know, one full of glottal t's and h-dropping phrases and went up to the trainer to let him know I'm new here by saying, "you all right, mate? Yeah, yeah. First time here. Um, what's the deal?" God, so cringey. But oh my goodness, we've just started with that feeling. Because he then takes a second to take me in and and says, "ah you all right, mate? Yeah. Um, give me five on the ropes, would ya?" I nod, showing that I clearly understand his instructions, even though I had no idea for 5 to 10 very slow seconds until another person grabbed a skipping rope and started a five-minute timer, I sheepishly headed over to the stash of ropes and picked out one, but the plastic handle instantly broke in my hand and dropped to the floor. I looked up and made eye contact with the trainer, who somehow was able to make me feel that that was my fault. So I went to grab another one and to my horror, the same thing happened again. So worried that I somehow had this kiss of death to every skipping rope in this club, I, um, I tentatively found another one and successfully pulled it away without breaking it instantaneously, but only to realise I'd chosen a bloody children's sized one, and not daring to find a more appropriate one, you know, with 40 eyeballs on me, I tried to start skipping.
Charlie:
And I kid you not, for about five minutes straight I was unable to complete more than two, maybe three skips before tripping up on this stupidly short rope that I had chosen. So although I was barely exercising my body, I was covered in sweat from the sheer embarrassment of this situation, and after the slowest five minutes of my life came to an end, he then shouted, "right, wrap up and get your mouthguards in!" So I went over to him to confess that I didn't actually have a mouthguard, and he said, "all good, just body shots for you tonight". So it turned out that the lady on steroids and reception had got the days confused. Wednesday was indeed the sparring session. Saturday and Monday were the technique days, and I then proceeded to endure 12 rounds of body shots from 12 different sparring partners, all of which looked like they would choose a bare-knuckle brawl over Netflix and chill any night of the week. And you know what? One of the most intense rounds was with a female sparring partner, as our instructions were to only use hooks and uppercuts this time round. So it was a bit more like what they call phonebooth boxing. Very close up and intimate, and this wasn't a problem. But I was new to this situation and I still don't really know the etiquette for this scenario that I had myself in, because she had a set of bosoms so large that it looked like she went through life with constant backache, but before being able to contemplate the pain she might be in day to day, she delivered an onslaught of hooks and uppercuts that were so ferocious I had no choice but to give her a few back.
Charlie:
And while I can honestly say in a court of law that I really did try to avoid them, given that it was only body shots, I really didn't have much of a target to aim for. So yes, I will admit I have now delivered uppercuts and hooks that occasionally, accidentally, landed on bosom. So the session was over. Actually, I want to research right now what the deal is. Okay, so in female boxing, like in male boxing, the focus is on targeting legal areas while avoiding illegal or foul hits. Makes sense. Generally, the rules for female and male boxing are quite similar. The legal target area in boxing typically includes the front and sides of the head, and the front and sides of the torso from the head down to the beltline. So technically, I guess that means that the bosom area is legally allowed to be hit. Uff. Punching the breasts specifically is not explicitly mentioned in the rules as illegal. However, boxers are trained to aim for areas that will effectively score points and strategically weaken their opponent. Punches that are too low or that target sensitive areas like the breasts could be seen as unsportsmanlike, or could be penalised if they are deemed intentional fouls.
Charlie:
In practice, boxers aim for areas like the head and the body's midsection above the belt to score points effectively. It's also important to note that female boxers wear protective gear, including chest protectors, to minimise the impact of punches to the chest area. This gear is designed to provide safety and comfort while not interfering with the movement and agility required in boxing. Okay, so there we go. That's how illegal or legal I was when landing punches to this woman's breast area. Again, I do want to stress I was aiming for the midsection. I promise you. I promise you that. So the session came to an end and amazingly, the trainer complimented me on my performance. He said, "you know how to punch a breast mate!" He didn't really say that. Um, he did say, "well done." So I came out of the gym torn between thinking that I wanted to chuck my gloves in the bin on the way home and wanting to find some boxing shoes to enhance my grip on that sweaty, wet floor next time I went. One week later, I found myself walking into the gym with a bulging sports bag full of wraps, gloves, shoes and a mouthguard. Eagerly getting my mouth guard on, I stepped up to face my first sparring partner of the evening and bonk, bonk, bonk, bonk, bonk right on the nose.
Charlie:
The thing I had not correctly calculated was that last time, as I didn't have a mouthguard, my partners were respectfully not aiming for my head, and so I only had my body to worry about protecting. And I learnt the hard way that knowing how to block is a fairly crucial part of boxing, especially when headshots are on the table. And I remember one moment being completely lit up by another guy that was bobbing and weaving like Muhammad Ali, to the point where I was genuinely tempted to shout out "stop! Just stop it! I don't want to do this anymore. Let me be." But I didn't. Instead, I did something very sneaky. I pulled my gumshield out, put it in my bag when no one was looking, and declared to my next sparring partner that I don't have one. "So it's just body shots today, mate. You're right with that? / Yeah, good. Let's go." We bumped fists in agreement and started to dance. While I did genuinely look like I was trying to dance, he was peppering me with blow after blow, and before I knew it, I had extended my right hand out, showing him my ribs, and he went to town on them. He did a full body shot. This guy also stood at twice my height, with deltoids resembling enormous cannonballs, and landed a full-on body shot to the ribs that started with a crack and left me crumpled on the floor, wheezing for air.
Charlie:
[wheezing sounds]
Charlie:
"Good one. Oh, it that was a good one, mate. Yeah. Oh oh."
Charlie:
He apologised for being too heavy-handed and left me to mop up my tears, and I staggered home, outraged at the way I had been treated. And for the last week, I've been dealing with what I believe to be a broken rib. So I promised myself to not go back there. And I've since decided to join a new bougie gym that includes sound baths, a spa, and hopefully some yummy mummies that I can work the pads with once I'm able to get out of bed without going.
Charlie:
[groaning sounds]
Charlie:
So there we go. My latest bit of Charlie chatter for you on how I've managed to possibly break another bone in my body. I think that makes it four broken bones and two ligaments damaged in under five years. It's honestly making me feel like I should be paying more tax than the next person, because I'm in the hospital so often. I was wondering if I could come away with a useful moral for us to apply to language learning. And you know what I think I have. Despite having a bruised or potentially broken rib, I now don't fear the idea of these proper boxing gyms that six months ago, I would have never dreamed of being brave enough to step into. And I've always wanted to try a martial art or boxing, but never felt brave enough. So yes, I've got an injury, but it will pass and I'll come away with a far larger comfort zone. So I imagine for you, public speaking in English is a horrifying thought. But even if you died on your arse doing it once, after that experience, talking with a native couple of people at the pub would feel a lot less daunting.
Charlie:
So I don't suggest breaking a rib anytime soon in trying to achieve this, but I do suggest doing something you're slightly afraid of within your learning journey, because once the dust settles, you will feel much more comfortable in the everyday challenges you face with language learning. And as you know, when we feel more comfortable, the fluency really does start to flow. And if you haven't got something in mind, I can provide you with such a challenge by joining the Academy and coming to one of the Zoom classes. I hadn't thought of that as being an add towards the end of my moral at the end of this episode, but there we go. It fits like a glove. I think I just heard the final bell, so we'll leave it there for today. I hope you enjoyed listening to a bit of Charlie chatter whilst being exposed to a load of native sayings and a few cultural references. Well done for completing your listening practice for today, and I'll see you next week on the British English Podcast.