By Ferd Lewis
Advertiser Columnist

Waikiki is just beginning to stir when boxer Brian Viloria eagerly bounds onto the Kalakaua Avenue sidewalk and starts to stride past Kuhio Beach for his morning road work.

The beach is mostly empty and the prevailing sound is a chattering of the birds as Viloria starts to hit his pace. With leaves crunching under his feet, Viloria is snapping rhythmic jabs at an imaginary opponent.

With the exception of an occasional jogger or the passing cars, Viloria has surrounded himself with peace and quiet in which to train for the violent fury of his profession. He has wrapped himself in solitude as he prepares for his biggest hometown fight.

"When I'm running, I don't pay attention to too much of what's going on around me," Viloria said. "I like the coolness of the morning. I like all the quiet. For me, that's the best time to train."

Hawai'i Olympian Brian Viloria runs 4-5 miles each morning as he prepares for Friday's boxing match at Blaisdell Arena. Cory Lum • The Honolulu Advertiser

After more than 200 fights in a career that made him a world amateur champion, the rigors of training have become second nature for the 21-year-old Viloria, who has come to have an appreciation for what it takes to win and an understanding of the hazards inherent in cutting corners.

Most days he will run 4-5 miles in the morning and then head to the gym for two more hours to hone a fighting edge and keep his weight at the 112-pound limit.

Viloria begins his day with an easy, engaging smile but one that turns to grim intensity as his pace quickens and the mileage begins to pile up.

"Brian is a pleasure to work with because he never complains or tries to get out of doing his work," trainer Ruben Gomez says. "Boxing is physical sport and everybody has aches and pains sometime, but some fighters complain about every little ache and pain. Not Brian. He knows what he needs to do, you don't have to stay on top of him to get it done."

As an amateur at Northern Michigan University before his Olympic days, Viloria learned how rough road work could be when the road was covered in snow. "Running in the snow with snow boots on wasn't much fun," Viloria said. "The snow would be a couple feet deep and no matter how much I tried to get myself to like it, I couldn't. But I learned a lot. It helped make me tougher. After that, running anywhere else is a lot easier."

In fact, Viloria has been looking forward to this week at home and the change of scenery. "I like running here," the Waipahu native says, a day after arriving from his North Hollywood, Calif., base. "I love seeing the people, the scenery, all the green. It is so beautiful and clean here."

In California, "there are some nice parks, but it can be like a cement jungle sometimes and you see the smog in the distance," Viloria said. "They have gray skies and call it a 'nice' day. When I come to Hawai'i and see the blue skies, now, that's a 'nice' day."

Viloria is hardly huffing or puffing, just beginning to break a sweat, as he works on throwing punches in swift combinations that cause the pigeons along his path to flutter away.

"When I do my running, I try to think how the fight will go," Viloria said. "Sometimes, I think about my opponent or how I want things to go. Basically, my mind is all on the fight the whole time."

Near his family's Waipahu home, where he used to run as an amateur, it got to be difficult for Viloria to stay focused on his running. "Some people would recognize me and honk their horns," he said. When he made the climb up to Waikele, he said, "people would try and stop for autographs."

In Waikiki, except for the presence of a newspaper photographer that has caused some passersby to watch, Viloria is scarcely noticed on this morning. He is just another runner in a sweatsuit making his way down the avenue. Though, many more victories and that will no longer be the case.

After the end of his run, Viloria said, "sometimes, I kind of feel like 'Rocky' out there when I'm running." A fight last year in Philadelphia gave him a glimpse of the route "Rocky" took.

And, "yeah," he says smiling sheepishly, "sometimes I'll put my hands up above my head like Rocky when I'm finished, too."

And, it isn't just because he caught the movie on the hotel television the night before. "I think all boxers kind of picture themselves like 'Rocky.' They feel that way when they are training. Like the running, it is just something that goes with boxing."