MS Fighter

Boxing has its way of stripping you down to your core. The moment you step into the ring, there’s nowhere to hide—it’s just you, your opponent, and the battle ahead. For me, it started as a way to stay fit and challenge myself, but it quickly became so much more. After I was diagnosed with MS, boxing took on a whole new meaning. It wasn’t just about throwing punches anymore—it became a metaphor for my life. MS is indeed relentless. It doesn’t play fair, it doesn’t pull its punches, and it doesn’t let you call timeout. But neither does boxing. In the ring, you learn to fight back, to adapt, and to stay calm under pressure—you simply have to, there’s no other choice for you. It teaches you how to dig deep, how to recover from hits, and how to come back stronger every time you fall. Boxing didn’t just prepare me physically—it sharpened my mind and built my spirit. It taught me that the fight is never over until you say it is. And in my fight with MS, that lesson is everything.

Boxing has taught me many things, but one of the most profound lessons is the value of simply showing up. It doesn’t matter how skilled, fast, or strong you are—if you don’t show up, you’ve already lost. That’s the same lesson I’ve carried into my life with MS, where the fight us just as much mental as it is physical. I actually applied such mindset even before my diagnosis. When you’re in the ring, there are days when you feel like you can take on the world. Your punches land with precision, your footwork is flawless, and you feel invincible. But there are also days when every step feels heavy, your energy is low, and you second-guess yourself with every single move. Those are the days that matter the most. Those are the days where showing up becomes an act of defiance.

Living with MS feels like being in that tough round more often than not. You can wake up ready to crush your goals. Suddenly, MS starts throwing punches you didn’t see coming—overwhelming fatigue, stiffness in your limbs, or that frustrating brain fog that clouds everything. On those days, getting out of the bed, putting on my gym shoes, or even just tackling one small task feels monumental. But there’s the thing: every time I show up, even when I don’t feel like it, I’m reminding myself—and MS—that I’m still in control. And you should be in control too. For me personally, showing up goes beyond the gym. It’s about showing up for my family, my work, and my own well-being. It’s about choosing to face the day, even when it feels easier to stay on the sidelines. When I step into the gym and pick up the gloves, I’m not just training my body—I’m reinforcing a mindset that refuses to back down, no matter what.

The reality is that you don’t need to be at 100% to show up. Some of your best lessons will come on the days you feel your worst. On those days, it’s not about hitting PRs or dominating a sparring session—it’s about being present, putting the effort, and proving to yourself that you’ve got what it takes to keep moving forward. There’s a quote from Muhammad Ali that says: “I hated every minute of training, but I said: Don’t quit. Suffer now and live the rest of your life as a champion.”. That’s what showing up is about. It’s not glamorous, and it’s not always fun, but it builds the foundation for strength, resilience, and growth.

When it comes to MS, the days you show up—no matter how small the effort—are the days that remind you that you’re more than your diagnosis. You’re a fighter. The fight doesn’t start when you step into the ring—it starts the moment you decide to lace up your gloves and show up, even when it’s hard. And in that moment, you’ve already won the first round.

Learn To Take Hits and Keep Moving Forward.

In boxing, you learn quickly that no matter how good your guard is, you’re going to get hit—it’s inevitable. The sport isn’t about avoiding every single punch—that’s impossible—it’s about how you handle those punches when they land on your face or body. Are you going to crumble, or are you going to adjust, recover, and come back stronger? That’s the lesson for you, not just in the ring but in your battle with MS. Keep in mind that MS won’t fight fair. It’s sneaky, unpredictable, and unrelenting. You know to story—you’re fine and suddenly your body is betraying you. But just like in boxing, it’s not about avoiding the hits—it’s about how you respond to them. Boxing has this way of teaching you resilience. When you’re in the ring and you get hit, your instinct might be to flinch, step back, or even panic. But if you do, you’re opening yourself up for more punishment. Instead, you have to plant your feet, steady yourself, and keep moving forward. That mindset has become my personal mantra for living with MS.

MS will land a hard shot one day. Maybe it’s fatigue so intense that you can barely keep your eyes open, or maybe it’s numbness that makes simple tasks feel impossible. On such a day, I remind myself that I’ve taken hits before—both in the ring and in life—and I’ve always gotten back up. It’s not about pretending the hits don’t hurt you—it’s about refusing to let them define you. What boxing also taught me is the importance of pacing yourself after a hit. You don’t rush forward blindly, and you don’t throw wild punches out of frustration. You stay calm, evaluate the situation, and adjust your strategy. Living with MS is no different. When a bad day comes, I don’t try to push through recklessly. I take a step back, listen to my body, and adjust my approach. Maybe I rest a little more on that particular day, or I modify my workout. The key is to keep moving forward, even if it’s at a slower pace. MS will keep throwing punches at you every single day. But every time I get back up and keep moving forward—whether it’s by showing up at the gym, playing with my daughter, or simply refusing to give up—it’s a victory.

In the end, life with MS is about endurance, just like a tough fight. You’re going to take hits, but it’s what you do after that counts. Are you going to stay on the mat, or are you going to rise and keep fighting? For me, the answer is clear. Every day I get back up, I’m proving myself—and to MS—that I’m still in this fight, and I’m not going anywhere.

Staying Calm Under Pressure. The Key to Winning Any Fight.

One of the most important lessons boxing teaches is the ability to stay calm under pressure. Sweet science is not just about throwing punches—it’s about controlling your mind when everything around you is in chaos—your instincts are screaming at you to either lash out or back away. But in the ring, losing your cool will cost you the fight. Staying calm allows you to think, adapt, and keep moving forward with purpose. Living with MS, I’ve realized that the pressure doesn’t just come in the form of physical challenges. It’s the mental and emotional weight of the unpredictable condition. There’s a constant pressure to perform, to keep up with your life, and to hold it all together even when your body feels like it’s failing apart. It’s easy to let that pressure consume you, but boxing has taught me that calmness is a weapon—a way to regain control in the face of adversity.

When I’m sparring or in a tough workout, there’s a point where my body starts screaming at me to stop. My muscles ache, my breathing gets heavier, and my mind starts looking for an escape. That’s when I focus on one thing—my breathing. Boxing is all about breathing through the chaos, staying steady, and keeping your mind clear. It’s not about ignoring the pain or the pressure—it’s about finding a way to control your response to it. I’ve brought this practice into my daily life with MS. There are moments when the pressure feels overwhelming—fatigue hits out of nowhere, stress piles up, or I start questioning myself whether I can handle it all. In those moments, I remind myself to pause, breathe, and take it one step at a time. The same way I don’t throw wild punches in the ring, I don’t let my emotions spiral out of control when life throws punches at me. Staying calm helps me think clearly and focus on what I can do rather than what I can’t.

Another important lesson is that staying calm doesn’t mean you have to do it alone. In the ring, your corner is there to guide you, help you adjust, and remind you of your strengths. In life, it’s the people around you—family, friends, and even the MS community—who are in your corner. Leaning on them doesn’t make you weaker, it actually makes you smarter (I always go through my shit alone—just don’t be like me). It’s part of staying calm under pressure, knowing you don’t have to fight every battle on your own. The beauty of staying calm under pressure is that it turns moments of struggle into moments of growth. When you can quiet the chaos and focus on your next move, you find strength you didn’t know you had. I’ve faced countless situations where I thought I was at my breaking point, but by staying calm and steady, I pushed through—and came out stronger on the other side. 

For me, staying calm under pressure is about making every moment count. It’s about not letting the chaos of MS—or life—control me. It’s about stepping into the ring of life, knowing that I might not control every punch that comes my way, but I can control how I respond to it. Whether it’s in the boxing ring, the gym, or just everyday life, staying calm under pressure is what keeps me grounded, focused, and ready for whatever comes next. It’s the key to fighting smart, living strong, and never letting MS—or anything else—knock me out of the fight.

Discipline Over Motivation. Winning the Long Game.

When it comes to achieving anything worthwhile—whether it’s in the boxing ring, the gym, or life—one truth stands out…motivation is unreliable, it’s fleeting. You can wake up one day feeling like you’re ready to conquer the world, and the next one, you can barely muster the energy to roll out of bed. This is especially true when you’re living with MS, where fatigue and unpredictable symptoms will drain your energy and test your willpower daily. That’s where discipline comes in. Motivation might get you started, but discipline is what keeps you going. Discipline is showing up to train even when you don’t feel like it. It’s sticking to your routine when it’s the last thing you want to do. It’s about doing what needs to be done, no matter how you feel in the moment. For me, this mindset is a lifesaver—not just in building physical strength, but in dealing with MS, balancing family life, and pushing forward in the face of challenges.

In boxing, discipline is everything. You can’t just train when you feel pumped or inspired. A fighter doesn’t rely on motivation to get up at 5 AM for roadwork or spend hours perfecting their footwork. It’s about commitment to the process—putting in the hard work every single day, whether you’re fired up or exhausted. Over time, that discipline creates results. The same applies to living with MS. If I waited for the perfect moment or relied on bursts of inspiration to take care of my health, I’d never get anywhere. Of course, there are days when MS fatigue hits me like a freight train, when my body feels heavy, and even the thought of working out feels overwhelming. Motivation would tell me “Take it easy. You can skip today.” But discipline reminds me that even on the tough days, doing something—no matter how small—is better than doing nothing at all. Whether it’s a scaled-back workout, a stretch session, discipline is what keeps me consistent, even when motivation fades. Discipline also requires your “Why?”. For me, it’s about being the best version of myself. That deeper purpose is what drives my discipline. It’s not just about getting stronger in the gym—it’s about building resilience in every aspect of my life. It’s about showing up not just for myself, but for the people who count on me.

The thing about discipline is that it builds momentum. Each small decision to stay consistent—even on the hard days—compounds over time. That consistency creates progress, and progress creates confidence. When you trust in the process and commit to it, you stop needing motivation to get started. Discipline becomes a habit, and that habit turns into results. A quote from Mike Tyson sums it up perfectly: “Discipline is doing what you hate to do, but doing it like you love it”. Indeed I don’t always want to wake up early, head to the gym, or push through fatigue. But I do it because I know the alternative is giving in, and that’s not an option for me. Discipline over motivation isn’t about perfection. It’s not about never missing a workout or always being 100% on top of your game. It’s about showing up more often than not. It’s about building habits that carry you through the moments when motivation disappears. And most importantly, it’s about proving to yourself that you’re stronger than your excuses, stronger than MS, and stronger than the challenges life throws at you.

In the end, discipline is what separates those who dream from those who do. It’s what turns ordinary days into building blocks for something extraordinary. For me, it’s not just about lifting weights or fighting MS—it’s about creating a life built on resilience, consistency, and the unwavering belief that no matter what, I’ll keep showing up. Because at the end of the day, that’s how you win the long game.

Fighting Your Own Fight. Owning Your Journey with MS.

Boxing is often romanticized as a battle between two opponents, but in reality, the biggest fight is the one inside your own head. It’s not about trading punches, it’s about strategy, mindset, and knowing when to push forward or when to take a step back. The same goes for life with MS. While it might feel like MS is your opponent, the real battle is within—learning to fight your own fight, on your terms, and in a way that works for you. You can have the urge to compare yourself with others—mostly the newly diagnosed people. Whether its your friends who didn’t have to deal with fatigue or gym bros lifting heavier weights that you ever could, you can feel that you always fall short. It can be like stepping into a fight where the odds are stacked against you, and you try to pla by someone else’s rules. You must rewrite the playbook—MS forces you to do so. It’s not about fighting someone else’s fight—it’s about fighting your own. In boxing, every fighter has a unique style. Some are aggressive, constantly throwing punches, while others rely on defense, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. The key is knowing yourself—your strengths, your limits, and how to adapt to the situation. Living with MS is no different. Your fight might not look like someone else’s, and that’s okay. Some days, your fight is crushing a tough workout, other days it’s simply showing up and doing the best you can do. Both are victories in their own way.

Fighting your own fight also means understanding that progress is personal. What works for someone else might not work for you, and that’s perfectly fine. For me, that meant letting go of the pressure to fit into anyone else’s definition of success—whether in the gym, at work, or as a daddy. My fight is mine alone, and the only person I’m competing against is who I was yesterday. One of the biggest lessons I’ve learned is to listen to my body. In boxing, if you ignore your body’s signals—like pushing through an injury or refusing to rest—you’ll pay the price. The same applies for MS. Fighting your own fight doesn’t mean pushing through every obstacle recklessly—it means being smart about when to push and when to pull back. Resting isn’t giving up, it’s part of the strategy.

There’s also a mental side to fighting your own fight. MS has a way of creeping into your thoughts, making you doubt yourself, and amplifying your fears. The key is to fight back against the voices. In the ring, when you’re cornered or feeling overwhelmed, you don’t give up. You dig deep, focus on your training, and find a way to turn things around. For me, that mental toughness has been crucial in my battle with MS. Every time I show up, I’m proving to MS that it doesn’t own me. Fighting your own fight also means celebrating your victories, no matter how small they might seem. Maybe it’s completing a workout when you didn’t think you could or finding the energy to play with your kids after a long day. These moments matter. They’re proof that you’re still in the fight, still moving forward, and still refusing to let MS define your life.

For me, “fighting my own fight” means embracing that philosophy every day. MS will throw punches, and life will throw challenges, but as long as I keep moving forward, I’m winning. It’s not about perfection or pretending the fight is easy. It’s about showing up, adapting, and owning your journey—because at the end of the day, the only fight that matters is the one your fight for yourself. So whether you’re lifting weights, managing MS symptoms, or simply trying to get through the day, remember this: The fight is yours, and no one else can fight it for you. Own it, embrace it, and never back down. That’s how you win—not just in the gym, but in life.

Lessons from the Ring That Go Beyond the Gloves.

Boxing is more than a sport. For those of us who step into the ring—whether literally or metaphorically—it’s a teacher, a proving ground, and a mirror. What you learn in the ring doesn’t stay there, it follows you into every part of your life. It teaches you how to face fear, how to persevere, and how to rise after every fall. For me, the lessons I’ve learned from boxing have been some of the most powerful tools I’ve used in my fight with MS, in the gym, at work, and as a husband. The ring taught me that life is about showing up, day in and day out, no matter how hard things get. It’s not about winning every round, but about refusing to stay down when life knocks you to the mat. With MS, there are days when just showing up feels like a victory—days when fatigue, stress, or doubt hit you harder than any punch ever could. But boxing reminds me that every time I get back up, I’m stronger than I was before. The fight isn’t over until I decide it is.

It also taught me the importance of preparation. You don’t walk into a fight untrained and unprepared—you practice, you plan, and you strategize. Life with MS is the same. Whether it’s adapting my workouts, prioritizing recovery, or managing my stress, the preparation I put in today sets me up for success tomorrow. Boxing taught me that preparation is about consistency, discipline, and trusting the process, even when the results aren’t immediate. Another key lesson from the ring is adaptability. In boxing, no plan survives the first punch. You might start a fight thinking you have it all figured out, but as soon as the gloves come up, reality hits. The same goes for MS. It’s unpredictable, and there’s no one-size-fits-all approach. I’ve learned to adapt—whether it’s modifying my workouts, adjusting my routine, or simply listening to my body. Flexibility isn’t weakness; it’s strength. It’s how you stay in the fight when things don’t go according to plan. But perhaps the most valuable lesson from boxing is that you’re never truly alone. In the ring, you’ve got your corner—the coach who sees your potential even when you don’t, the team who patches you up and sends you back out stronger. In life, my corner is my family, my friends, and the community I’ve built around me. Asking for help isn’t a sign of weakness; it’s a strategy for winning. MS can make you feel isolated, but leaning on others reminds me that this fight isn’t one I have to face alone.

As I wrap up this post, I want to leave you with a final thought: boxing isn’t just about punches or physical strength—it’s about resilience, heart, and the refusal to quit. Those are the same qualities I bring to my battle with MS. Life will throw punches, MS will test my limits, but as long as I stay in the fight—physically, mentally, and emotionally—I know I can come out on top.

Muhammad Ali once said, “The fight is won or lost far away from witnesses—behind the lines, in the gym, and out there on the road, long before I dance under those lights.” For me, this means the true victories happen in the small, everyday moments: when I push through a tough day, when I stick to my goals, when I show up even when it’s hard. Those moments are what define the fight—not the flashy wins, but the quiet, relentless effort to keep going.

So, whether you’re battling MS, pushing yourself in the gym, or just trying to get through life’s challenges, remember—you’re in your own ring, fighting your own fight. And you’re stronger than you think. Keep showing up, keep adapting, and keep fighting—for yourself, for your family, and for the life you want to live. That’s the ultimate lesson from the ring.