The sport offers patients balance, strength, and confidence.

Some fights don’t need a ring—just a reason.

At the Lodge of Des Peres, punches aren’t thrown in anger. They’re thrown at Parkinson’s disease, one jab at a time.

This is Rock Steady Boxing, a weekly reminder that while the body may shake, the spirit doesn’t have to.

“Without fail, every time that I come, I’m so happy that I did,” says Sharon Halcomb, 78, a former flight attendant diagnosed with Parkinson’s in 2018.

In this gym, her story is personal but familiar. The program is what 72-year-old Alan Field calls “training with a target.”

“Parkinson’s is like a demon that could want to take over your body and control it,” Field explains. “My goal is to fight the demon, fight the disease, live life to the fullest.”

Leading that fight is Carolyn McKee, a daughter who turned her dad’s diagnosis into a community lifeline.

“Ten years ago, my now late dad called me and said, ‘I just want to do more to help fight this disease called Parkinson’s,'” McKee recalls.

So Carolyn did her homework and discovered Rock Steady Boxing—a program that uses the sweet science to battle bitter disease. She partnered with trainer Brent Meyer to bring it to St. Louis.

“When I see someone struggling with anything, whether it’s mental or physical or both, I just always think to myself, what can I do to help this person?” Meyer says.

Ask Carolyn and Brent what makes Rock Steady special, and they won’t start with boxing. They’ll start with belonging.

“At the end of the day, it is the precious community that has formed,” McKee says. “It’s my family. These are my friends.”

That belonging isn’t just emotional—it’s practical. Parkinson’s has a way of shrinking a life, quietly, day by day. But in this room, they’re building it back, one movement at a time.

“I think it’s helping with balance, and you get the aerobic aspect of it too,” says Speedy Warner, another Parkinson’s patient. “So, I mean, it’s just a good workout.”

Balance. Strength. Confidence. The things that help these folks stay independent and stay themselves.

“They come in as Eeyore,” McKee observes, “but after a month of being part of this community, they’re like Tigger.”

And that may be Rock Steady’s biggest punch of all—not stopping Parkinson’s, but refusing to let it win.

And if you know someone making a difference for others, email mbush@ksdk.com.