Combat: The Ultimate Form of Expression
On June 7th, I participated in my first amateur MMA bout. Why would I want to put myself through that sort of thing you might ask? Well, you’re not alone because damn near everyone has asked me why I would want to do that on top of everything else I’ve been through in my life… if you know me, then you know what my life has been like. There are a few reasons. The first and most surface level being that I wanted a test. I had been training mixed martial arts consistently for the past year and I wanted to see where I was at in my progress. The second being that I am an explorer. Everything I do in my life i do because I want a first hand account of what it is like. I wanted to experience the emotions, hardship, and pain that come with this sport. I wanted just a taste of what the guys and girls I watch in the UFC go through. The only way to do that would be to get in there myself and get it done. The third being that I had some insecurities with myself that I needed to destroy. Growing up, I was bullied a lot, as a lot of us are, but I always backed down from fights. I was scared. Scared of the pain and humiliation. It’s something I’d carried with me since I was about eight years old and I need to face it. I needed to face myself.
Competitive fighting is a weird thing. I feel as though it’s probably one of the most primal things a human can put themselves through. It brings out every emotion you’ve felt and some you haven’t felt. It forces you to learn more about yourself, your life, and others than anything I’ve ever done. It brings out the best and the worst in you while forcing you to distinguish between the two and use them to your advantage. From 2008 to 2012 I was a member of the Army’s 75th Ranger Regiment. I’ve been to some of the Army’s most difficult schools and selection courses, but none of that can compare to what training for this fight was like. Not easier or more difficult, just different. I spent five weeks, six days a week training with a team of pros ran by two time world kick boxing champion, Dewey Cooper. On this team we have UFC fighter, Kevin Lee, his brother Kieth as well as some other pro MMA fighters. Not to mention bantamweight champion bare knuckle boxer, Christine Ferrea, professional women’s boxer, Kylie Fulmer, and profession undefeated boxer, Rocky Marzan. A team packed with experience and inspiration. I was spending an average of three hours a day in the gym. Sometimes more, sometimes less, but more often than not, 3–4 hard hours of conditioning, sparing, rolling, and pad work. I busted my ass for 5 weeks for six minutes of fighting. I don’t mean that in a negative context. I just want y’all to understand how serious this game is. How much dedication it requires. I lost 25 pounds in two months.
Prior to the fight in the locker room, I found myself on a roller coaster of thoughts and emotions. In and out of anxiety, anger, happiness, strength, weakness. I felt it all. While I was back there preparing, I watched other losing fighters come back. In tears. In pain. Faces cut, bloody, full of welts. Just moments prior I had seen them leave to go get the job done. Unfortunately, that’s how some of them came back. However, when I walked up to the cage and stepped in, I was calm. Fearless. None of that had effected me. I’d felt like everything I’d been through in my life had lead me to that moment. All of the hard work was done. Inside and outside of the gym. As my coach Dewey puts it, the fight is the celebration for all of that hard work. Literally half way through the fight in the 2nd round, I lost by submission. My opponent was a much better wrestler than I and he took advantage of it after a counter left that made contact during an exchange. That’s the way she goes though. I was bummed. Of course I didn’t want to lose, but I also didn’t expect to win. I just wanted the experience. To look back when I’m older and say I did it. I faced myself, another man, the lights, and the crowed and did my best. The support I received from my team, my lady, friends and family afterward is what made the most difference though. All of them seemed to be more proud of how I carried myself through the night versus how I performed. I learned that at the end of it all, for a first timer, that’s what it’s all about. To tell you the truth, I’m not even upset that I lost. That was more worth it than a win would have been.
Combat sports is truly something else. In all of my endeavors and paths I’ve walked, I have never encountered such a supportive group in my life. I’ve been around crossfitters, powerlifters, bodybuilders, professional motocross riders and none of that compares to the strong minds, community, and undying will to strive that I had found in this group. I cannot say enough about the support that fighters receive and give in return. Combat sports is the ultimate form of human expression. The ultimate test of one’s will and determination. The executioner and provider of inner-personal demons. As well as, a sort of fountain of self confidence
