Corinne 'Money Maker' Mears

WEEK 8: “FIGHTING OUT OF THE BLUE CORNER IS CORINNE ‘MONEY MAKER’ MEARS VERSUS….”

Well, here we are - the countdown is very real now.

One month to go. That’s 30 days. Or 4 weeks. Or roughly 56 snack-avoiding opportunities. But who’s counting? (me)

Training has now escalated to full-blown Fight Night simulations. Katie has transformed into a tactical genius, part chess master, part drill sergeant, timing sparring rotations with the precision of a NASA launch. Every second of every round is accounted for - who’s fighting who, where, when, and for how many bruises.

But the big moment? Oh, that came last Thursday. Picture this:
We all stood around, hearts pounding, sweat glistening, staring at John, who very dramatically unfolded an A4 sheet of paper like he was about to reveal the secret to eternal youth.

The crowd held their breath.
The air was tense.
Someone may have dropped their water bottle in anticipation.

And then… the announcement:

“In fight number six, fighting out of the blue corner, Corinne ‘Money Maker’ Mears…”

“…versus Alicia ‘Wrecking Ball’ Ballesty, fighting out of the red corner.”

The breakdown:

• Fight #6: Midway through the night = enough time for the crowd to be comfortably tipsy, but not yet slurring their cheers. Plus, I’m not first. Big win. ✅

• Blue corner: Fashion win. Red is bold, but blue suits my vibe - cool, composed, and potentially camouflage for bruises. ✅

• Opponent: Alicia “Wrecking Ball” Ballesty — she’s taller, younger, and represents Rare Cancers Australia. Meanwhile, I represent… local government efficiency? The crowd reaction is going to be incredible. I can already hear the cheers and confused whispering:

“Wait… is the council worker about to fight a Wrecking Ball for charity?”

Now, I’ve had my eye on Alicia. She’s been all smiles, warm vibes, “oh I’m just happy to be here” energy. Classic undercover warrior strategy. Then BOOM - she drops the fight name and reveals her true self. A human wrecking machine with a heart of gold. Brilliant.

Sparring embargo has been enacted - no more sneaky practice rounds against each other, thanks to Katie’s Risk Mitigation Plan. I’m watching Alicia closely though. She’s got the reach and height, I’ve got... well, instincts for body shots and an undying love of snacks I’m not allowed to eat right now.

Emotionally? No tears this week - just plenty of punches to the face (and elsewhere). I’ve learned:

• I no longer close my eyes every time a punch comes at me.

• I can defend (mostly).

• My fitness? Still suspicious. I fully expect Round 3 to be powered by nothing but pure adrenaline and existential panic.

But hey — that’s what training’s for. One month to go. Gloves up. Let’s get it. 🥊💥

WEEK 6: I CRIED

Where have the weeks gone?

Training has really hit a new gear.

Tuesday, Thursday and Saturdays have become the bare minimum, heart rate in red zone the norm, tired shoulders the norm, sweat running down my brow the norm. I try and slip in another two cardio/strength sessions a week. Im feeling fitter, but more fatigued.

My weight has only slightly dropped but I feel better in clothes.

I look the part now, I have the boots (thanks Sarah) and the mouthguard.

I’m starting to find my fighting style, a bulldog apparently, head in first my weakness. 

The trainers are incredible, the helping hands, the constant encouragement and the evil eye Mick gives me when I start to drop my hands with fatigue. DON’T.GIVE.UP. Get to your dark zone but stay focussed. This isn’t a bar fight John reminds us, this is about staying light, staying calm, small steps, keep moving, think tactical. 

Sparring is a big make up of training now. You could be partnered with anyone, male, female, trainer, (proper) boxer.

We are really mixing as a group too, no longer girls in one corner, boys in the other. I have everyone's names down pat. We equally take the piss out of one another. Smiles and laughs sneak in when the trainers aren’t watching or in Lesley’s case when they least expect it.

Theres been a wave of winter sickness creating patches of absenteeism, I’m doing my best to dodge it. I’ve set myself a goal of not missing a single session. So far so good.

I’ve been rocking a black eye this week, a nice shiner and a trickle of blood from my eyebrow. I couldn’t even blame boxing, though Lesley did tell Johnny he did it sparring with me the training prior. No unfortunately it was a much less impressive reason… I ran into a door. Not even kidding. It somehow bounced back and hit me right in the cheekbone. I think it was God’s way to remind me to change my fight style from head-first. Clearly my reflexes still need work. No this wasn’t why I cried. 

Everyone is gossiping and guessing who each of us will be paired with. We are chomping at the bit to know. It’s like a mathematical equation… ‘so how old are you?’ and ‘how much do you weigh?’ well if you times them both together, and take the square root of the result that will tell you the birth date of your match.

I figure based on this complex equation I’m either fighting Leasa or Alicia both absolute weapons and all-round top chicks. This is going to be tough.

What we really want to know is whether we are in the red or blue corner. This will dictate the after-party dress… oh and there is an epic after-party planned. We will all deserve to let our hair down that night and probably right through the next day.

Are you still waiting to hear why I cried, have I dragged it on long enough? I promise this isn’t some clickbait situation. This was a legitimate break down. Here’s me being vulnerable with you all…

Saturday morning a handful of us were up at Johnny’s gym, and some light sparring got heavier than I bargained for with some good shots to the head, fighting physical exhaustion after well over an intense hour in the gym already, but not wanting to give up before the bell for the round was ringing. I felt like I was the star character in Eminem’s ‘Lose Yourself’ song, ‘knees weak’, ‘arms are heavy’, ‘only got one shot’, ‘would you capture it or let is slip’. Playing round and round in my head, taking one punch after another, throwing a few back not really knowing if I’m hitting clean or not, my feet too tired to move, sweat in my eyes or maybe I was squinting I cant remember, my breathing laboured, trying for deep draw ins, but only skimming the oxygen surface. Breathe Corinne, Breathe.

The bell went after the longest two minute round I’ve felt yet, and as I leant up against the ropes or maybe I was bending over, really it was a blur, the flood of tears started falling and still I was gasping to get my lungs filled. I couldn’t even explain what was wrong. Was I hurt? was I scared? was I exhausted? I’m really still not sure. The whole gym stopped and starred in genuine concern, I’d hit the break zone. I made my way over to Mick, he reassures me, rebuilds my confidence, and shows me he’s proud. 

What doesn’t kill me makes me stronger.

WEEK 3 – ENJOYING THE RIDE (AND THE SWEAT)

The fear of the unknown has well and truly buggered off, and I’m now basking in the glow of family and friends who are weirdly proud of how much I’m sweating in public.

Training sessions are still a full-blown sweat-fest, but I’m finally starting to feel like I vaguely know what I’m doing. That gut-churning anxiety that used to hit just before stepping onto the gym floor? Gone.

We’re training three times a week and it goes a little something like this:

• Gus’ Gruelling Warm-Ups: Calling this a “warm-up” is like calling Mount Everest a brisk hike. It’s basically a workout in itself, complete with groans, gasps, and the occasional internal scream. Gus was away on Tuesday (hallelujah!) and last year’s fighter Loz stepped in. The room lit up with “Thank god, Gus is away” vibes… which lasted exactly 2 minutes before Loz morphed into Gus’ evil twin. Sweet smile, savage drills.

• Russian Roulette Floor Circuit: After the warm-up, we split into two groups. There’s a theory that if you tackle the floor circuit first, the worst is over. This is a lie. A beautiful, deceitful lie. I’ve finished on the bags a few times feeling like a broken wind-up toy. The circuit is a mash-up of shadow boxing, squats, burpees, push-ups, pad work, skipping, and whatever else they can dream up. All while being lovingly corrected by Shan (also a previous years fighter and all round top chick), Loz, Gus, and John. Constant encouragement, correction… and more correction.

• The Bags: I have a weird affection for this part. Mick and Paul are constantly tweaking my technique with the patience of saints. The combinations are getting more complex and now we have to move while punching—rude. My heart rate usually decides to flirt with cardiac arrest during this session. Turns out, boxing is exhausting. Who knew?

Mild panic this week with a shoulder and elbow situation after a hyperextension. Two days off and we’re back in business—clearly only minor.

Also, I’ve started wearing my mouthguard! After a few classy gags (literally), I’m mostly used to it. Bonus: it makes my teeth look fabulously white. We’re only allowed clear or white mouthguards so the ref can see the blood. Cheery thought. No jewellery allowed either—Leslie reminded the guys to remove their Prince Alberts. Love her sense of humour, cracks me up.

No cliques in this crew—everyone’s getting along and mixing from day one. 

Speaking of public embarrassment: did anyone catch my two seconds of Insta fame? Yep, that little Corporate Clash pre-interview clip of me playing with my hair like I was auditioning for a shampoo commercial. How very humbling. Honestly, I thought I was channeling cool and composed.

Lessons this week:

• Small slips, not dramatic ducks that throw you into a cartwheel.

• Small, quick steps.

• Apparently, you can win a boxing match without even throwing a punch. Still not sure if they’re having me on, but apparently defence and strategy score points. Wild.

The countdown to sparring has begun. Coaches keep dropping it into conversation like it’s no big deal. I’m equal parts pumped and petrified. But honestly? I think I’m doing okay—no better or worse than the rest. And I’m loving the ride. The friendships forming already are gold, and I’m weirdly excited for our post-session Saturday coffee catch-ups.

Johnny’s House of Pain

WEEK 1: REALITY CHECK

My First Boxing Training Session: Exhaustion, Reality Check, and the Start of Something New

If you had told me a year ago that I’d be stepping into a boxing ring, I probably would’ve laughed it off. I’ve always been someone who appreciates general fitness, but boxing? That was a whole new ballgame. But yesterday marked the day to get started — and I walked out of my first session feeling exhausted, unfit, and, strangely, incredibly motivated.

The Excitement Before the Exhaustion

The moment I walked into the gym, I could feel the energy. The sounds of gloves hitting pads, the rhythmic thud of feet shuffling on the mat, and the focus in the air – it was intense. I had watched enough boxing matches and training montages to think, “This is gonna be fun.” I couldn’t wait to get started.

But then, it hit me. Reality.

The Warm-Up: A Wake-Up Call

I started with a basic warm-up, which I expected to be a simple stretch and maybe a few light drills. Wrong. It felt like a workout on its own. Star jumps, shadowboxing, footwork drills — all designed to get the heart pumping and the body ready for what was about to come. My body wasn’t exactly used to moving in all the ways boxing demands. My legs felt heavy, my arms wobbled a bit, and I was already breathing harder than I thought I would.

At this point, I was already thinking, “I should’ve prepared better.”

But Gus reassured me — “This is just the beginning. You'll get stronger, faster, and more skilled.” The words stuck with me. It wasn’t supposed to be easy. Boxing, after all, is as much about mental toughness as physical strength.

The Technical Drills: More Humbling Than I Expected

Next up were the actual boxing drills. I learned some basic stances, jabs, crosses, and hooks. Easy enough, right? Wrong. It’s one thing to throw a punch in the air (which I did countless times in front of the mirror), but it’s another to do it with form and technique. John patiently and steadily explained and demonstrated. I absorbed what I could but mostly kept thinking rubbing my belly and patting my head would take less coordination. My punches felt strong but clumsy, and definitely not pretty.

Enter Mick. Mick reminded me numerous times to slow down and focus only on my technique (no haymakers Corinne) then finished with 'I can tell something is inside you just waiting to get out'. LOL

I quickly realized how unfit I really was for this. Every punch, every movement required not just strength but coordination and endurance. Boxing works muscles I didn’t even know I had, and by the time we were halfway through the session, I was already drenched in sweat.

I wasn’t prepared for how taxing it would be. But here's the thing — I kept going. Even though my arms felt like they were made of lead, and every jab seemed a little less clean than the last, I kept pushing through. Because the goal isn’t perfection at the start; it’s progress.

The Cool Down: Reflection and Realization

By the time the session ended, I was completely exhausted. I felt like I had been through a battle — and in many ways, I had. I had fought my own limits, pushing myself beyond what I thought I was capable of.

I was quickly informed the sessions always finish with planks... Jesus Christ my weakness. 5 minutes John wants us to hit... my eyes dart around the room to see if anyone else is also wondering if he's joking. He's not. My result: 30 long god damn seconds. Got some work to do sorry Johnny.

But even though my body was tired and sore, I was mentally invigorated. There was a part of me that couldn’t wait for the next session. This was just the beginning, after all. The start of a new chapter.

Lessons Learned and What’s Next

My first boxing session taught me a lot:

• Patience is Key: I wasn’t going to become a pro overnight. It’s all about consistent effort and gradually improving.

• Focus on Form: Strength without form is just force, and I learned quickly that technique is everything in boxing.

• No Quick Fixes: Fitness is a journey, not a destination. I’m unfit right now, but I won’t be forever.

The exhaustion I felt today was a reminder of how far I have to go, but it was also a sign of how much room there is to grow. Boxing isn’t just a workout — it’s a mindset. And I’m committed to sticking with it, even when it gets tough.

So, here’s to the beginning. I know I’ll be sore tomorrow, but I’m already looking forward to the next training session. After all, progress doesn’t happen in one day — but it does start today.

Weigh In: 84 kgs (eeek, can't believe I'm saying that publicly)

Calories burned in session 1: 852!