With swimsuit season just a hop, skip and a month away, recently, and in a momentary lapse of sanity, I decided to kickbox. My first step was to call Joe Andreula, a certified personal trainer and the owner of Take It to the Max, Hoboken’s resident kickboxing gym. “I want to kickbox,” I said, giddy with anticipation. “Come on down,” Andreula replied, with as much intensity as Richard Dawson from the original Family Feud.With swimsuit season just a hop, skip and a month away, recently, and in a momentary lapse of sanity, I decided to kickbox. My first step was to call Joe Andreula, a certified personal trainer and the owner of Take It to the Max, Hoboken’s resident kickboxing gym. “I want to kickbox,” I said, giddy with anticipation. “Come on down,” Andreula replied, with as much intensity as Richard Dawson from the original Family Feud. Three days later, along with my colleague David Danzig – who was hauled along for moral support – I ventured west, into the heart of Hoboken’s industrial landscape, for my first foray into kickboxing. Located at Seventh and Monroe streets, Take It to the Max is a vast space housing mirrored walls, dozens of punching bags and an official boxing ring. There were only three other students – all small women – in our Thursday afternoon class. (Apparently, most kickboxers prefer early morning and evening sessions.) Standing 6-foot-1 in sneakers and weighing 180 lbs., David is in tip-top shape, and I have been Stairmastering three times a week for three years. We can take them, I thought. Andreula then explained that there would be no sparring. Take It to the Max focuses on kickboxercising, which is basically aerobics with a punching bag. At first I was a little disappointed: I wanted to showcase my pugilistic prowess. But then we met our instructors, Dave Ferreira, a lean mean kickboxing machine, and Paul Que, whose brawn is simply astounding. Suddenly I was relieved that there would be no formal contact. Float like a butterfly … The workout began with several laps around the gym to raise our heart rates. Unfortunately, Stairmaster hadn’t prepared me for the real thing. I was out of breath after only three rounds. Already exhausted, it was time to stretch. I labored to touch my toes, making it only halfway, while the other students, including David, folded like collapsed lounge chairs. After our warm up, we were each given a pair of official Ring Side boxing gloves – the brand worn by Evander Holyfield. Proving my ineptitude once again, I struggled with the gloves. Fortunately, Ferreira came to my aid, saving me from further embarrassment. Finally, clad in my Ring Sides, I was ready to kickbox. After learning the basic punches (jabs, crosses and upper cuts) and kicks (round house, front and side kicks) the kickboxing began. “Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee,” I sang, my arms and legs flailing to the beat of the hip hop blaring in the background. Between the punching and kicking, our instructors, who were becoming irritatingly enthusiastic, bellowed commands: “Ten jumping jacks … Ten deep knee bends … Ten lunges … Ten push-ups. On my count: ten, nine, eight, seven …,” Que and Ferreira alternately shrieked. Coated with an appropriate amount of perspiration, my classmates looked refreshed and healthy while I, saturated with sweat, grasped for the little air left in my lungs. After an intense and exhausting 30-minute cardiovascular regime, we moved onto arm exercises. “Grab two three-pound weights,” said Que. “Look at the wee weights,” I said to David. “They’re so cute. At home I use five-pound weights.” Little did I know that the seemingly innocuous three-pound weights become surprisingly odious when held over your head for ten, twenty, and then thirty seconds. Next, Que asked us to extend our arms outward while holding a black leather medicine ball. Again, he counted to ten. “I never knew 10 seconds could last so long,” said David, quivering. When I dropped my arms after only six seconds – thinking that if it were just a little bigger, the black leather ball would make a nice Ottoman – Ferreira lifted them back up. “No pain, no gain,” he said. “Yeah, right,” I responded, with a sarcasm usually reserved for close family members. Finally, we moved onto the abdomen workout. “This would a good time for me to take some photographs,” I said, glad to have a legitimate excuse to skip what I know would be certain torture. As the rest of class crunched and flexed, I sipped water and snapped pictures, elated that I had finally finished my first kickboxing lesson. Sting like a bee … David and I celebrated our success over a substantial lunch. “Angela, the girl with the curly hair, told me that she’s only been kickboxing for four months and she has already lost 3 percent of her total body fat,” said David, biting into his prosciutto, mozzarella and roasted red pepper sandwich. “Did you see how buff the blond girl was?” I asked, over a bagel with cream cheese, tomato and onions. “I’m going to start kickboxing every week. Make that twice a week.” The next morning I awoke to discover the harsh reality of the life of a kickboxer: Needless to say, I walked funny for days. But, like the scrappy warrior I am, two weeks later I went back for more. Take It to the MAX is located at 720 Monroe St. in Hoboken. According to Joe Andreula, each hour-long class burns approximately 900 calories. For more information or membership fees, call 963-7774 or visit their web site at www.takeittothemax.com. Kickboxing 101 By Joe Andreula Guard stance The basic move used to start and end every other move. Stand with your legs shoulder width apart. Move your left leg back so that you stand comfortably. Keep both knees slightly bent. Make a fist by rolling your fingers down to your palm and wrapping your thumb around them. Hold your lead hand at eye level, about a thumb’s length from your face, and hold your power hand up, slightly lower and to the side of your lead hand. Note: If you’re right handed, your lead hand is the left hand and your power hand is the right hand. (If you’re left-handed reverse your hands.) Keep your chin down and both elbows pressed against your ribs. Always keep your eyes focused on a target. Jab A straight punch thrown with the lead hand. Start in guard stance. Extend your lead hand straightforward. Always exhale as you deliver the punch and turn your wrist so that your palm faces down. Return to guard stance. Cross A straight punch thrown with the rear hand. Start in guard stance. Pivoting your rear foot and turning your upper body into the punch, extend your power hand straight forward. Again, exhale as your deliver the punch and turn your wrist so that your palm faces down. Return to guard stance. Hook A curved punch thrown with either hand. For the left hook, start in guard stance. Turn on your left foot and bring your left hand forward in a half-circle. Return to guard stance. For the right hook, turn on your right foot and bring your right hand forward in a half-circle. Return to guard stance. Front kick A straight kick with either foot. Start in guard stance. Keeping the knee of your supporting leg slightly bent, bring your knee up to about waist level. Extend your kicking leg straightforward, bend it at the knee again. Bring your kicking foot back down. Finish in the guard stance. Side A kick from the side with either foot. Start in guard stance. Turn 90 degrees on your supporting foot, moving your upper body so that it is turned to the side, away form the direction of the kick, but keep your chin low and your eyes looking forward over your shoulder. Bring up your knee, then extend your kicking leg. Pivot on your supporting foot, moving your upper body to its original position. Bring your kicking foot down. Finish in guard stance. Roundhouse A kick to the side with either foot. Start in guard stance. Bring up your knee to one side. Turn on the supporting foot, moving your upper body so that it is turned in the direction of the kick. Extend the kicking leg. Turn on the supporting foot, moving your upper body to its original position. Bring your other kicking foot down. Finish in guard stance.
Putting ’em up : A chronicle of the kickboxing craze
