What it means to be Rock Steady in Carson City

There is something about Francisco Rodriguez that screams tenacity.

It could be the fact that he reminds me of a kinder, gentler Mickey Goldmill, the rough-edged, gravelly-voiced fictional manager of Rocky Balboa played superbly by actor Burgess Meredith. He never gave up believing in Balboa, even when Rocky had quit on himself.

Similarly, Rodriguez frequently says "We never quit" on his Facebook posts for Rock Steady Boxing Club in Carson City.

And he doesn't, either. I should know.

I spent one hour on a Friday afternoon attending a Rock Steady Boxing class, doing the same work-outs as the club members who are battling the ravages of Parkinson's Disease.

Only they did it much better than me. Much, much better.

Granted, I'm out of shape and battling a neuromuscular disorder of my own. But these are individuals in the throes of Parkinson's symptoms, including severe tremors, muscle weakness or rigidity, imbalance, and poor coordination.

They should be undergoing traditional clinical therapy under the strict supervision of a nurse or physical therapist, right?

Nope. In fact, Carson-Tahoe Physical Therapist Nina Vogel is credited with introducing the Rock Steady Boxing Club regimen to Northern Nevada.

The exercise therapy model is taken from the original Rock Steady Boxing Club, an Indianapolis, IN-based organization that has gone national with the success of its work-out program.

In December 2015, Vogel started the first Rock Steady Boxing program in Northern Nevada at the Tazmanian Boxing Club in Carson City, a gym owned and operated by Rodriguez, a former Bantam-weight professional boxing titleholder who holds a 28-4-4 career record in the ring.

Membership was small at the time, but it grew steadily over the next several months.

Rodriguez himself became a certified Rock Steady trainer last spring and began coaching alongside Vogel. Since then, he has not only been leading two classes three days a week at his Carson City gym, but now he has expanded Rock Steady Boxing to Reno, where he leads a class three times a week there, too.

"We never stop," Rodriguez has said many times, including Friday afternoon once I arrived for my work-out.

"You ready?" he asks.

Trying to hide my own feelings of inadequacy, I excitedly nodded. "You bet!"

And off we went.

It was calisthenics to open the session, a 15-minute long series of fast-paced exercises designed to get the blood circulating quickly through the body.

Whether it was one hundred jumping jacks or 30 high steps, class and trainer moved swiftly. Too fast for me.

Nobody slacked as Rodriguez made his way around the oval-like circle formed by the class.

"What's your problem?" He said to one club member. "You got a problem?"

"I don't have a problem!" the member yelled back.

Then Rodriguez came to me. "Smile!" he said. "I want to see you smiling!"

By now I'm gritting my teeth, trying desperately to keep up and ignore the discomfort of being severely winded.

But I smile. Broadly.

I have to, for the sake of the rest of the class, who Rodriguez told they would have to do 60 push-ups every time I slacked off.

No pain, no pain, no pain, I tell myself constantly.

"Don't stop!" Rodriguez calls to the class. "Keep moving!"

I am sweating profusely 10 minutes into the work-out, and we haven't even begun the circuit yet.

The circuit is a series of more than a dozen exercises designed to help Parkinson's patients manage and maintain better control over their worst symptoms.

From lifting small hand-weights to using huge tractor tires for push-ups, raises, steps and jumps, the circuit is all about quick, repetitive motion, which is a benefit to the neurological tremors common in the extremities of Parkinson's patients.

The weight exercises help with balance as members perform squats and arm raises while holding the hand weights.

There's also mountain climbers, crunches, and bicycles performed on mats that help to enhance coordination.

I got through the weights before having to sit out the remainder of the program. Thankfully, Rodriguez didn't make the rest of the class do the push-ups for my failure.

He may be a tough-as-nails boxer, but Rodriguez also has a heart of gold for people. It's the reason why he started the Tazmanian Boxing Club in the first place, and also why he has invested so much of himself into Rock Steady Boxing.

As I sit suffering in exhaustion and leg pain, the trainer trots over and hands me bottled water without saying a word. I expected him to give me the look, and maybe remark, "We never quit here!" But he didn't. He understood. It's one of the things that makes him special.

Rodriguez is one of those guys who will rise to any challenge and adapt in order to succeed. He's taught everyone from cocky teenagers to Parkinson's patients struggling to believe in themselves, even a young man trapped in his world of the autism spectrum.

I watch the last 20 minutes of class from the sidelines as club members lace up their boxing gloves and go to work sparring with one another, working the speed bags and the heavy bags, too.

This is where the work-out really benefits the Parkinson's symptoms, because the combination of repetitive speed work with balance, coordination as well as deliberate punches, cuts and jabs — all of which are core principles of boxing — are proven to help manage the signature symptoms of this progressive disease.

There is no cure yet for Parkinson's Disease. But there is a remedy for dealing with the day-to-day symptoms, and it's called Rock Steady Boxing.

Throughout the entire one-hour class, I followed the faces of club members. Even though they may have been in pain or experiencing other severe symptoms of the disease, not a single one of them showed the slightest hint of displeasure. Nobody complained.

There was a look of determination on each of their faces that was nothing short of courageous.

These folks aren't going to let Parkinson's Disease get the best of them. They aren't going to quit.

They never do.