Fighting Back Against Parkinson’s

They don oversized boxing gloves that barely fit their sometimes trembling hands.

They shuffle over to a black punching bag, sometimes unsteady on their feet.

Then they unleash their fury.

And boy, do they unleash it.

A left jab, a right hook, followed by another hook, an uppercut, and back to jabbing—bam, bam, bam.

They finish their assault with kicks—side kicks, thrust kicks, and wild kicks—with legs that suddenly seem strong again, powered by an energy that once felt out of reach.

Outside this small gym in a plain office park in Monrovia, they are seniors grappling with the relentless grip of Parkinson’s disease.

But within the walls of Kaizen Martial Arts & Fitness, as part of the Kaizen Kinetics program, they become champions.

With ages ranging from 50 to 90, they embody courage in their fight, appearing every few days, hoping their movements can stave off the challenges posed by “Parky.” They are here to punch him out, kick him away, and they endure over an hour of demanding exercise to achieve that.

They are frail women yelling, “Jab!” and shaky men shouting, “Hook!” Together, they count through the 75 minutes of stretching tired muscles and testing their ever-diminishing optimism.

Honestly, I’m in awe of them, possibly because I share their struggle.

I also live with Parkinson’s.

Isn’t that ironic? After spending my career telling inspiring stories of athletes overcoming hardship, I now find myself wrestling with my own challenges.

It’s not easy, let me tell you. I now understand what those folks featured in my uplifting articles were really feeling—a harsh reality behind those sunny headlines. A degenerative condition like this, it’s tough. It’s no picnic.

A diagnosis came four years ago after I mentioned weakness in my right arm. That particular issue has faded, but there’s a constant battle to keep everything else from deteriorating.

Every day feels like running a marathon. I manage fairly well, my balance is okay, but there’s always that sense of tightness and creakiness. The medication regimen is intense; my pills come in large jugs, and I often find myself discreetly swallowing them during baseball games.

My pace is slower now. My fiancée Roxana deserves a medal for her patience; getting ready takes forever—and it’s often accompanied by sounds that make it clear I’m struggling.

I don’t smile quite as easily anymore. It’s tougher when your face bears the trademark mask of Parkinson’s. When I FaceTime with my sweet granddaughter Daisy, I worry she won’t see past my serious facade and know how much I love her.

Up until now, my family was the only one aware of my situation. My bosses had no clue. I didn’t fit the stereotype of someone with Parkinson’s, so why expose something so personal and, frankly, embarrassing?

Yep, I felt embarrassed. It was a strange mix of feelings—humiliated and yet, it made complete sense. I equated Parkinson’s with weakness, with frailty.

But let me tell you, watching a 72-year-old woman pound away at a punching bag? That’s not weakness.

And that’s precisely why I’m sharing this today.

If my boxing classmates can muster the strength to work through their exercises and fight their fears, then I can certainly celebrate their resilience without worrying about what it says about me.

I’m proud to stand beside them. The aim of this piece is to reflect that pride and perhaps encourage others battling Parkinson’s to tussle back.

Parkinson’s is officially a neurodegenerative disease affecting both motor skills and other systems. Essentially, the brain gradually stops producing dopamine, essential for movement. This loss can impact everything from how you walk to how you talk.

About one million people in the U.S. live with it, and there’s no cure. It tends to worsen with age. Michael J. Fox once said it’s “the gift that keeps on taking.”

People don’t usually die from it, but living with it can be a challenge. Yet, there’s one thing that undeniably helps slow its progress: exercise.

Movement is crucial. Getting off the couch daily, working those muscles, and perhaps even joining local programs that offer various activities from dancing to hiking can be beneficial.

“Regular exercise can reduce symptoms for those living with Parkinson’s, enhance treatments, and possibly slow disease progression,” shared Rachel Dolhun from the Michael J. Fox Foundation. “For some, that exercise might be boxing; for others, it might be water aerobics, dance, or even playing pickleball. Just remember, every little bit of exercise helps.”

Personally, if you want to hit back at Parkinson’s, boxing seems most effective. The 83 brave souls who pay $179 a month for the Kaizen Kinetics program would agree.

“When I hit the bag, I feel like I’m hitting Parkinson’s hard,” noted Rich Pumilia, a 66-year-old lawyer.

I became aware of Jody Hould’s program shortly after my diagnosis. I kept noticing their flyers in medical offices. Initially, they were part of the Rock Steady Boxing program, which has multiple locations in Southern California. By the time I mustered the courage to reach out two years ago, Kaizen had branched off with a similar boxing focus.

“Boxing incorporates balance, posture, pivoting, core strength—all vital in battling the disease,” shared Hould, who founded the program nine years ago in honor of her late mother, who suffered from Parkinson’s. “Plus, it’s just fun to punch something.”

Hould and her team lead fast-paced sessions, calling out punches and kicks while gently correcting form when someone hooks instead of jabs.

“Parkinson’s doesn’t take days off, so we have to stay ahead of it. It’s not just good for the body; it’s good for the mind, too,” she emphasized.

However, I quickly realized it can be a blow to one’s self-esteem, especially when a frail, elderly woman out-punches me one day, shouting at the bag. Another time, an older man knocked the bag right into my feet with his powerful strikes.

There was even a moment when I arrived with a cut on my left hand and told Hould I wouldn’t be boxing that day.

“You still have your right hand, don’t you? Then you’ll box one-handed,” she replied.

The 75-minute sessions are tough. Every drill often seems crafted to challenge my abilities. Sometimes it’s painful, sometimes I wish I could be anywhere else.

Yet, it’s effective. It might not cure Parkinson’s, but it can certainly temper its effects. Hould doesn’t promise anything miraculous, but she has observed relief among participants. Some have even ditched their walkers; others have reported less severe tremors. In that gym, surrounded by others, there’s genuine hope that this disease can be contained.

Pumilia, who has been attending classes for eight weeks, feels optimistic about his progress.

“When I was diagnosed, my doctor told me I had about five good years left. Now he’s saying, ‘I don’t know what you’re doing, but keep it up,’” he said.

Sharon Michaud, 65, who has been attending the classes for eight years, agrees wholeheartedly. “It’s definitely helped me,” she remarked, moving with surprising agility. “It’s easy to fall into a depression with Parkinson’s. Coming here, I see I’m not alone. I’m shocked that more people don’t know about programs like this.”

Hopefully, this story can shine a light on that. If it encourages just one more person living with Parkinson’s to reach out to Kaizen Kinetics, then it’s worth it.

If you come to Monrovia, you’ll find me—perhaps breathless at the back—still working to perfect my punches but endlessly motivated by my fellow fighters in this relentless battle.

Leaving that gym leaves me sweaty and sore, yet I feel uplifted, reminded that I’m fortunate to live a rich life filled with love, friendships, work, and a good deal of hope.

I have Parkinson’s, but it surely does not have me.