Getting Some Sense Knocked Into Me (Perhaps)
When I grabbed my gear Monday morning, I had no idea what the day would bring. The plan was to workout with and then interview Nam Phan, a fighter who really impressed me with his win over Cole Miller in the UFC this August. Nam seems like a great guy and I can’t wait to talk with him, but things didn’t work out on Monday. He’s in the middle of training camp for another UFC fight he took on super short notice and I’ll try to meet up with him after he returns. Since I was already in Garden Grove and had the afternoon free, I decided to head down to Huntington Beach to Kings MMA. The gym has been incredibly supportive of my project and full of great individuals. I wasn’t really up for a hard workout, but hoped I could sneak in an interview or two, maybe roll around with a couple guys before the pro training began.
At the gym there were four individuals I’d already interviewed, and several others I still wanted to. Renato “Babalu” Sobral and Fabricio Werdum were also present, and I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to train alongside them. I’m fans of both fighters and hoped they’d be more likely to give me an interview if I attempted to make it through the workout.
Things were fine for the first minute of warm ups and then I noticed Master Rafael Cordeiro was there, just back from cornering Rafael dos Anjos to victory at UFC 154. I hadn’t had a chance to introduce myself and felt foolish being in his class without explaining I wasn’t a fighter. He was very nice and welcomed me, but there was no time to talk. I figured it wouldn’t take him long to realize I didn’t belong, but having him present made me want to work that much harder. Plus, it’s not every day I can get that level of instruction with that caliber of fighters.
We drilled stand up for the majority of class, an incredible combination that Master slowly built up, adding one new move at the end of each series. This is such a great way to learn, although thoroughly exhausting. By the time we were finished, I felt like I’d thrown close to 500 right kicks. I had nothing left and was relieved when it was over. Then Master said to put the bags away and get on our gear.
Oh shit.
A couple thoughts crossed my mind at this point, the main one being, call it quits, make some excuse, say I have to go. I’m a writer, not a fighter, and the last time I was at the gym and went against Matt Horwich, it was a very humbling and not very fun five minutes. I didn’t want to look like a complete wuss, though, so I sucked it up and put on my gear, told Matt I’d give it a shot, but wasn’t promising anything.
Of course, Matt dominated me again, but he was incredibly cool about it, not putting much on his punches. I felt like I’d wasted a round of his training time, but was just glad I got through it. Then Master told me to go with Fabricio.
There wasn’t any way I was going to be disrespectful and say no, so I hoped for the best, that maybe it’d be like my round with Matt. So much for wishful thinking.
For those not familiar with Fabricio, he’s a monster at 6’5 and at least 250lbs. And damn he hits hard. I know he was taking it easy on me, but I still couldn’t handle his shots, doing all I could to curl up in a ball. For the first time in eight years, I was reacquainted with the feeling of nearly being knocked out. And his leg kicks weren’t any kinder. Fortunately, Fabricio quickly saw what he was up against and backed off every time he dropped me with a body shot or noticed I was wobbly. I lost track of how many times I had to stop to get my bearings back, but I’m guessing it was close to ten.
The next round, I went against Jessica Martinez, another one of the fighters I’ve interviewed. I’d like to say the round was easy and I totally recouped but she landed some nice shots, one accidental one that reassured me that wearing a cup is always a good idea.
I’d hoped the training session was over, but there was one more round to go. Master told me to get in the cage with Babalu. And of course I listened.
Babalu isn’t as big as Fabricio, but that made no difference. Kicks to the head, knees to my gut, body shots and hooks. I could do nothing, except take a knee, try to clear the cobwebs and get back in there.
The workout was finally over and I felt like hell. Nearly getting knocked out every ten seconds and being forced to take knees isn’t something I’m proud of. I told myself that was it, I’m finally going to get back in shape like I’ve promised myself so many times before. On the drive back home, I even told my friend, Brian, I’d run that night. Ten minutes later, I told him to scratch that, I wasn’t going to be walking, let alone running.
When I got home, I went straight to bed because my head head was killing me. After I got up, I realized not only was I not walking, but the insides of my thighs were so sore from taking kicks that I seriously looked at the toilet and wondered if I could possibly take a crap while standing.
The next morning, my legs were still a bit sore, but it was my low back that was locked up. Throwing all those kicks had seriously done a number on me and I was limping around the house until I made my way to my acupuncturist. This gave me time to think about what happened and what kind of commitment I was ready to make. Did I want to make a real attempt at getting back in fighting shape? What would be the point if I did? Even if I wanted to commit to six months or so of serious training, I could probably recapture some cardio, but I still couldn’t come close to hanging with top fighters. The level of training and knowledge that these athletes have is not something you can pick up overnight. Yeah, it’s fun getting in the cage, but do I really want to break my nose, rattle my brain, suffer another concussion? I’ve already had at least four serious concussions, two of which I lost over fifteen minutes of time, no recollection whatsoever of what happened. Probably not the best thing for a writer to have happen.
So what’s the answer? Do I puss out every time it’s time to spar? Do I say no, you guys go ahead, I’m too old, out of shape, and scared? I’m not so sure I can do that, which worries me. It seems like I’d be smarter than that. Damn ego always getting in the way.
To check out the rest of the photos from this day and all the other gyms I’ve visited this year, be sure to head over to my Facebook page.
