Why wonder when you could know?

There's a trainer at a gym I go to who teaches boxing classes. Whenever I see him, he encourages me to come to one. I’ve always wondered what it would be like to try boxing but always found a reason not to find out. A couple weeks ago I decided to find out.

I showed up and saw a small group of people warming up, hitting the heavy bag or talking with each other. I didn't have boxing gloves so I borrowed a used pair. He gathered the group and introduced some of the newbies like me to the regulars. He said that his goal was to teach us the "sweet science" of boxing. (It's actually referred to as that) This wasn't a "workout" class, though it would be a workout. He would be focusing on technical skill. This made me both scared and excited. Aside from a few Tae Kwon Do lessons as a kid, I've never done any sort of martial art or combat sport. I've played lots of competitive team sports, but never a one on one sport like boxing. I was scared about how much I'd probably suck. I was also excited because I love learning new things, especially when I get to start from zero.

He pulled the newbies aside to show us some basic footwork, hand positioning and punching form. Then he told us to shadow box in the mirror for 3 minutes. He set a timer and went over to the regulars to start them up on something.

Shadow boxing is a solo activity where you try to imagine another fighter being in front of you. You move, block and punch in whatever way you want. It felt soooo weird. It was like dancing for the first time with no partner. The wall in front of me was all mirror and I cringed every time I caught a glimpse of my awkward shadow boxing dance. The 3 minute bell rang and I considered leaving. Then I remembered something I've said to my kids any time they were starting something new. "You have to be bad at something before you're good at it." I was definitely bad at this.

We spent the next portion of the class working in pairs, taking turns playing offense and defense. My partner was a regular and knew what she was doing. The trainer gave us a specific punch combination to use and a set of moves to defend each one. One partner would punch, the other would block, then switch. Even though I knew what was coming, I repeatedly failed to block effectively and got punched in the face. We were working at slow speeds to get the technique right so no one was punching hard, but still. Luckily for me, my partner was great about helping me correct my form after she punched me in the face. I thanked her for the ad hoc coaching. Then she thanked me. "Actually, helping you out helped me understand it better", she said.

Getting punched in the face is a great motivator. Why was it happening? What could I do to fix it? I focused hard on learning the blocking techniques the trainer had shown us. After a few rounds I learned what I was doing wrong and my blocking improved, leading to fewer face punches. We worked on some other combos and class was over. I hadn't noticed the time pass at all. The hour felt like a few minutes.

On the way out I went on Amazon to buy a pair of gloves. I couldn't wait to come back and learn more.

As I left the class I realized I'd just spent an hour questioning to learn. I’d always wondered about boxing, but showing up forced me to go from wondering to knowing, conjuring up one of my favorite quotes from Doug Dietz, “Why wonder when you could know?”.

Going from wonder to know involved a lot of discomfort, physically and mentally. Now I can’t wait to know more.

This lesson applies to many work related situations, all of them starting with the uncomfortable moment of choosing to go from not knowing to knowing.

Not sure why customers aren't using the product?

Not sure why employees are quitting?

Not sure why you haven't been promoted?

It’s easy to find reasons to avoid the answers. They may not be what you want to hear. What if employees were quitting because they felt you were a bad boss? That’s a bit of a face punch.

If you can take the leap and endure the discomfort of going from wondering to knowing, the answers are on the other side. They may not be what you want to hear, but they’re a great starting point for learning and improving. It just takes some action on your part.

The other moment that stood out to me was how my partner thanked me for the opportunity to teach. She wasn’t always a good boxer. She was bad at it before she got good at it, but she was still learning - learning through teaching (while punching me in the face).

It’s a good lesson that applies in so many situations.

Question to Learn > Learn to Teach > Teach to Learn