I have competed in tae kwon do and tried my hand at hip hop. Boxing felt more like the later. Instructions included: stay light on your feet, keep your back ankle up, pivot on the back leg, never cross your feet when you move, put your weight into the turn.
But at the end of the first lesson Winston taught me the basic blocks and started punching me - then it felt like boxing.
I had presumed the actually getting punched element of the training would come later on, and I assumed I would be punching my instructor long before he was punching me. But when you're expected to fight after only two weeks, I suppose you are put on the fast-track.
Boxing training was intense, it's not all just punching inert bags. Fitness is a massive part, and at least half the class is dedicated to circuit training.
I came to dread an exercise the instructor called 30-on-off, during which you practice combinations for 30 seconds, followed by 30 seconds of press ups, burpees and sit ups. This goes on for three or four rounds.
I dreaded these for the obvious reason that it was hard work, but also because during the rounds of punching it was an instructor holding the pads, and they didn't let you off easy.
I think it's a sign of a good trainer if, when they give you the 'I'm disappointed in you' look, you feel like a kid and want to work harder. The trainers had this down pat. In saying that, they were also the first to tap you on the back if you were working hard.
The trainers definitely didn't coddle you, but threw you straight in - a refreshing change from other martial arts classes where they restrict you to technique for weeks on end.
I mentioned Merril, the manager. He stepped in during our third training session to take me through some boxing drills.
It was a pretty simple routine, with Merril holding the pads. Unfortunately, my guard dropped one too many times and whack! A fairly hard smack around the head. No faster way to learn, I suppose.
Joanna, I came to realise, was incredibly fit. If the trainers' influence flagged for a moment, trying to keep up with her gave me another kick.
The final training session arrived, and we were told who we would be sparring again.
He said his christian name was JDay Rasta, ring name Maori Warrior, who had been dubbed The Undefeated Hamilton Heavyweight - we were thrilled.
JDay entered the ring wearing a hoodie pulled low over his eyes, which was good, because I was worried the man wouldn't be imposing enough.
It was a David vs Goliath situation - if Goliath was actually a really nice guy who only wanted to encourage David in his boxing training.
My opponent was obviously going easy on me, but a dropped guard would mean a tap on the head. Despite this, the session was exhausting after an hour and a half of training.
After the sparing session Winston was full of praise ... for Joanna.
"Joanna sparred really well. She was controlled and relaxed and she flared up when she got hit about. A lot of the ladies are careful and feminine when they box, she was different. It's quite rare to see, and they're all red heads! She has what it takes to be a boxing champion."
I'm not afraid to admit I was shown up.
As a conciliatory prize, Winston said he was really impressed with my effort, and said he wouldn't hesitate to put me in the ring after a couple of months of training. This might have been a lie, but I appreciated it.
