I've been getting back into working out, I've never really stopped over the past three years, but, then again I never really changed my life style to maximize and benefit from the cardio and weight training I was doing. After the my birthday I decided I needed to live healthier, so I can see my Goddaughter and her little sisters grow old and become doctors, lawyers, vets, have kids, or whatever makes them happy. Really, I want to be in peak physical condition so I can beat the shit out of the young studs they're gonna be dating in the near future, I know their daddy can handle it, but every batman needs a robin!
Taking the advice from a bestfriend of mine, I started to work out just before the sun comes out. It took me a month to accomplish that task. Since the only thing I get up for that early in the morning is fishing, golfing, and the occasional Texan tailgate. I have had many a day when thats the time I finally stop partying but waking up to a brutal workout...thought never crossed my mind. One particular morning I took a detour off my usual route and passed by a jiu jitsu gym. In my teens and early twenties, I took kung fu, boxing and dabled a little in jiu jitsu and judo. Thats right before UFC blew up. But, I was more intreseted in being twenty one and chasing tail.
If any of you don't know, some, not all of these gyms open up about four in the morning or a little after. And the doors are always locked. This is were the club fighters come in and train. Some training to become pro and some professional. They get there and come in before classes start for regualar joes that watched a UFC fight a couple of weeks before and wanted to get in on the latest craze. Although, most of them will go to an academy that says MMA(mixed martial arts) on the front of the Gym, some do wander in places like the one I showed up to take a look, but, this particual one trains in one area only, jiu jitsu. After a couple of weeks the regular joes get bored because they want to learn how to fight like the guys on tv then quit. Cause they realize, take downs are they key, while body postions are the ultimate goal in jiu jitsu, they quickly learn that punches or what UFC anouncers call ground and pound hardly ever take place. The instructors really dislike people like that, but money is money and times are tough.
I tried for the door and it was open. My heart skipped a beat, I walked in so that I could watch a little sparring session. If you never seen some of these guys train its almost better that an actual fight. You get to see first hand how the moves are done in slow motion and then repeated in lighting fast speed. If one happens to be a challenger and thinks he can take out the champ of that academy, you talk about an intense battle of control. Sometimes the challenger will not tap and thats when, arms, legs, and joints will pop and snap. But this is amercia not brazil. I heard stories of Gracie fighting camps, that in order to join you have to fight that same the day you want to sign up, and it always ends in something of yours getting broken, there is no such thing as a tap out down there.
Anyway, I watched a little and then decided to head back out, the coaches that were yelling at the fighters were starting to give me an evil look, hell, I know when I'm being sized up, and I also know what an ass whooping feels like, and I wanted nothing of the sort that morning. I reach for the door and I hear "hey big guy!" shit I thought, should I just pretend like I didnt hear that and start running or respond. That little dare devil voice spoke up and said fuck it. I turned around and answered "what's up" in no way was I going to go into explaing what I was doing there, at least not at this point. I wasn't asked a direct question to begin with anyway. "Can I help you something?" he said in an arrogant tone.
"Nah, I was just passing by and thought I might get a chance to watch some great sparring sessions." I replied, hating the fact that I put myself in this mess. With these guys I know too well it can go either way. Had they been american dudes, I wouldnt have worried so much, but these guys were brazilian. Not that its a bad thing but they will test you to see what kind of metal you got between your legs.
"You fight?!" he asked with a grin on his face. "Nah, like I said, I just wanted to see a sparring session."
"well, make yourself comfortable its going to get exciting, then he moitioned to one of the fighters and yelled something in portugeues, what ever it was it wasnt good, the guy took off in a huried trot to the back room then to front door and locked it. At that point a bead of sweat dripped slowly off my nuts as the shrank up into my stomach. Im fucked now I thought, better not show an ounce of fear or your definatley gonna be fucked with, and don't kiss ass, but be respectful. My dads words and advice taking over. To my surpirse I was in for a treat, great fighing was taking place. And I was left alone to be a grateful spectator. I was careful not to let out any type of satisfaction or excitment when one guy got the best of the other. Cause they do hate that.
At the end the guy comes over and asked what I thought. I thought it was great, instead, I told him it was exciting to watch the small guy (6 foot 1) take on the big guy (6 foot 3) and thanked him for letting me in his gym to watch. "Watch?!" he said with a cocky smile. "That was my sales pitch, spectators are not allowed in here. "See that guy" he pointed to the big guy(6"3 and 235lbs) solid muscle and fast. "Yea" I said, "he's pretty good." knowing damn well that guy was a machine. He goes on to tell me that he out weighs everyone here, and is his only heavywieght. Which is a problem cause he has no one to spar and train with, and asked if I wanted to join. It was easy to see, the smaller guy gave him no real comeption and it wasnt cause he was good, just outwieghed. Without hesitation I tell him that I was not intrested, what I didnt tell him was I was not intrested in messing with that fucking animal, got someone in the 200 range maybe someone thats a pussy or rookie. We go into specifics, I tell him I dont have money to spend on a member ship and I have no medical insurance. Done deal he said, "i'll waive the fee and you can train for free, but, you have to be here at 5 am 3 days a week to train with that guy( i cant use real names so im just gonna call him "the machine").
At this point all my excuses had been exhausted and matched by this guy, and the only thing left was for me to say I'm a big pussy and want nothing to do with this. I couldn't say that I was a pussy...cause I'm not, but, waking up 5 am to be a punching bag for a trained and skilled fighter 3 days a week. Im not fucking crazy. The dare devil voice spoke to my macho ego then forced my mouth open and said "fuck it, that guy needs to get at least one good ass whooping before a pro fight, and it might as well be me, at least it wont affect his pro record." The guy laughed and shocked that I had said that infornt of his fighter and asked "how you plan to take him down." I looked at him with a serious look and said " if my elephant gun wasn't so damn heavy to carry around I'd use that, but, a quick shot to the nuts would be just effective."
"and if that doesnt work" said the machine. "well, depends on how fast you run doesn't it!?" I was careful to not get carried away with the shit talking.
They both laughed and told me that they had a feeling they were going to like me. They liked that I wasnt scarred of shit, but, quickly said it was because I didnt know what I was getting myself into. Little did they know that I had some martial arts training as well as boxing. But, i didnt tell them that just yet. Everyone says they do, then have to turn aroud and take their foot out their mouth or ass, which ever came first, and I was just gonna let my body do the talking. I signed my life away on waivers and agreed that after a month of training I would become this guys beating toy.
I was weighed and measured, I was nervous to hit the scales, last time I got on one i didnt like what it told me. I looked down at the number and read 275. The machine got on and it read 250. He may have had me by 4 inches in height, but, I got him by 25 lbs. Though my body isn't anywhere cut up like his is. But Im solid, so I felt good. We move on to see how many pushup I could do after they found out I wieghed more than what I looked. They said I looked like I was in the 240 to 250 range. It was a good thing, I got away from the weights and been doing pushups. I hit 50 non stop, the most I had ever done in a row, the adrenaline was kicking in, and the urge to show I was strong and not some lazy fat ass willed me to do more, but I was told to stop and it couldn't come sooner, I felt light headed and was about to pass out. Then we moved on to what they called a dead man something or other, couldn't really tell with the accent these guys have but I was like what the fuck is that. I knew these guys were gonna fuck me up sooner or later just not this soon. But to my surprise, its just letting your body limp and the other guy dragging you around then eventually picking you up over his shoulder using no particular technique. I dont want to toot my own horn, but, TOOOT TOOOT. The machine had a hard time throwing my ass around, but when my turn was up, I had no problem. This is where I would like to think all the fat girls in my past, without letting me throw you around naked and drunk, i would not be the man I am today. So, thankyou, again.
They finally let me go after some more casual talk and getting to know each other. I walked back to my apartment, and couldnt help but think, what the hell did I just get myself into. Peer pressure is a mother fucker.