‘Boxing saved my life’
Boxing is an unlikely suicideprevention tool. But for some, the commitment and discipline the sport brings are a gamechanger. Cecile Meier talks to three women who say it’s given their lives purpose.
Tyler Rodgers descended into depression after her fiance died by suicide. Their daughter, Sienna, was three months old. Rodgers was 19. ‘‘I was in shock. We had lost our everything.’’
Her fiance, William Fuataga, loved being a dad but found himself in a ‘‘tough situation’’ involving a psychosis diagnosis, she says. ‘‘It can be hard to reach out for Pasifika and Ma¯ ori wha¯ nau, because of judgment,’’ Rodgers says.
‘My club is like family’
Going back to the boxing ring helped her chase away her own suicidal thoughts.
‘‘It took me six months to pick up my sh.. and realise he is not coming back and I need to be the best mum I can be.
‘‘Boxing was sort of what got me back.’’
Getting out of the house to do a physical activity will always be helpful. For Rodgers, the social aspect of boxing, the discipline required to fight, and seeing her body becoming stronger as she trained were also key to her recovery. ‘‘My club’s like family.’’
Three years on, Rodgers is now a suicide prevention worker at He Waka Tapu, a Christchurch kaupapa Ma¯ ori health and wellbeing organisation.
She started boxing in 2012 and did amateur fights for a couple of years before taking a break.
Not only is she fighting again now, but she also pitched the idea earlier this year of introducing community boxing classes for girls, women and new mums as part of He Waka Tapu’s offerings. It’s been a success, with all nine classes full.
Some might say it’s a bad idea to get kids fromlow-decile suburbs into boxing, but Rodgers says it gives them a focus. ‘‘The rule is that, if they get into any fights, they can’t be part of the group.’’
‘If you’re not well, how can you look after your kids?’
In a brightly lit room in eastern Christchurch, the Mums & Bubs boxing class is in full swing to loud, upbeat pop music.
The mothers, sweaty and rosy-cheeked, work in pairs: punch, duck, punch, duck and repeat.
Tyler yells instructions: ‘‘Keep going, keep going.’’
Two toddlers dance and jump around, all smiles, while a third one watches his mum quietly. A baby crawls on the hardwood floor. Two other babies, strapped into their pram, are kicking their feet in rhythm with the music. A mother with a sprained ankle is supervising the kids.
Clad in a bright pink hoodie, a toddler with big brown eyes walks over to her mum. The woman, panting, takes her back to the improvised kids’ corner – six prams and a bunch of toys by the mirrors – and resumes boxing. When the toddler comes back for her mum, Rodgers picks her up and carries her on her hip for the rest of the session.
Maree Edwards has been coming to the boxing classes since they started six weeks ago. Her fifth child, Joseph, is the youngest in attendance that day, at 11 weeks. One time, he slept right through the class, she says.
The training makes Edwards get out of the house to meet other mothers. It helps with her mental health and her fitness.
‘‘You do push yourself, it’s not easy. I start getting ready at 9am to be here at 10.30. I love it.
‘‘If you’re not well, how can you look after your kids?’’
A mindful activity
So what is it about boxing that is so helpful for some people’s mental health?
Wellington psychologist Karen Nimmo says there’s plenty of research to support the benefits of exercise to mental health, including reducing stress, improving sleep, boosting mood, discipline, having a routine, social interaction, distraction, and getting out of your head and into your body.
‘‘Boxing is a relatively mindful exercise too – so when you’re boxing, you have to keep your mind fully on the job. That can stop your thoughts from drifting to dark or unhelpful places.’’
She warns there is a ‘‘clear link between concussion and depression’’ so it’s important that people take all due precautions with safety equipment and procedures.
‘‘If you take a head knock, have a professional assessment before continuing – and that means assessing your mental, as well as your physical, health.’’
Boxing at a high level and dealing with failures, mistakes and criticism can be tough on someone’s mental state and not everyone will be up for that, she says.
‘‘Boxing is a relatively mindful exercise too – so when you’re boxing, you have to keep your mind fully on the job. That can stop your thoughts from drifting to dark or unhelpful places.’’ Wellington psychologist Karen Nimmo
‘I was so blinded’
Lani Daniels’ life unravelled when her younger brother died of leukaemia at age 11.
Daniels was 14, one of nine siblings. Life was ‘‘pretty great’’ before that, she says. She had a stable upbringing and spent her Sundays in church.
She knew the cancer was aggressive but she didn’t think her brother would die.
‘‘Even after he passed away, I didn’t believe it. Then I felt like: what is the point of living if we are going to die anyway.’’
Cue a spiral of self-destructive
behaviour: drinking, drugs and shutting herself away from friends and family. ‘‘I was so blinded. I didn’t care and I just did heaps of risky behaviour.’’
By age 19, she had been convicted of drink-driving twice, lived away from her family and could not hold on to a job.
When her nana died, she started thinking about suicide. ‘‘It got to the point that I felt I had nothing. I had burnt all my bridges. When people don’t find purpose in life, some start finding it in death.’’
Daniels signed up to study nursing as the easiest way to get on a benefit. After failing her first semester in 2012, she got into boxing in a bid to lose weight, following in her sister Caroline’s footsteps.
At first, she was still drinking almost every day, partying and self-medicating.
But she found discipline and commitment in her boxing training, and started winning fights. ‘‘It’s actually quite a tough sport and the commitment needed for it helps you do life as well. You get out what you put in.’’
She sees boxing as a mental game as much as a physical one. ‘‘If you go in there and think you’re going to lose, you’re going to lose.’’
A goal to become world champion gave her something to focus on. She cut down on alcohol and finished her nursing degree.
‘‘It was a real slow recovery. It wasn’t until I was 24 that I could start seeing hope.
‘‘It took a while to comprehend I was actually a nurse. To finally have achieved it; even now I find myself thinking: ‘Wow, I am a nurse’.
‘‘When you are in a bad space it’s really hard to see what life could be like.’’
Daniels has not had a drink in the past year, since moving back home to Pipiwai, near Whangarei, and feels the happiest she’s ever been.
Now 30, she works as a mental health nurse in Whangarei, is a professional boxer and has opened a small boxing gym with her family in Pipiwai.
Up to 27 kids train at the gym on Wednesdays and Fridays after school. Adult classes are successful too, with six people nominated to fight a corporate fight this month.
‘‘All my cousins have joined boxing. It feels so good to help people at home and see the happiness it brings others. It gives us a place where we can connect.
‘‘In the past, I would only associate with some of my cousins through drinking and partying. Now we are associating through fitness and a healthy lifestyle.’’
‘‘When people don’t find purpose in life, some start finding it in death.’’ Lani Daniels
Boxing saved my life
Retired world champion professional boxer Daniella Smith doesn’t believe she has suffered mental health issues but she is sure of one thing: ‘‘Boxing saved my life, without a doubt.’’
‘‘It’s given me a direction and a sense of achievement that was extremely powerful. It helped me believe in myself and strengthened me as a woman.’’
These days Smith coaches others in her Auckland gym, and is behind the Diamonds in The Ring annual charity fight raising funds for Women’s Refuge.
Smith started boxing when she came back from a stint in Australia as a single mum of two children at age 26 in 1998. All her family lived overseas and she was a bit lost.
‘‘I didn’t intentionally go to boxing to find a sense of direction, but it happened. When you hop in the ring you’re by yourself. It forces you to train hard.’’
Losing her brother to suicide in 2010 was hard on Smith and her family. Four months later, she won the world title in Germany.
‘‘It was his death that motivated me. I wanted something for our family to be happy about. It gave me a lot of strength.’’
After retiring from boxing three years ago, she coached boxers at elite level but decided to open her own gym after coaching for a Mike King’s suicide prevention Heavy Hitters fight.
She coached a team with several people struggling with serious suicidal thoughts and mental health problems.
‘‘It was a powerful journey I had never experienced before as a coach or an athlete. It was always about winning. I discovered that finding the will to live was winning.’’
She sees her students’ confidence grow with their training – especially women. Some have reported reducing their anxiety or antidepressant medication after months of training.
‘‘It’s not just the boxing that helps them: it’s the team environment, the feeling of finding a place where they belong.
‘‘Boxing has its dangers and risks. Safety is really huge but when people are battling to live every day and they are willing to take the discipline seriously, it can be a game-changer.’’