Wednesday, March 18, 2009


I went to mixed martial arts for the first time in almost 6 months.I'm exhaused. Every muscle in my body hurts right now. I'm literally shaking with fatigue. The fuel tank is on empty.

I suck at it. Badly. Can't remember right from left. My stamina sucks balls. I'm a weakling. My form sucks. My power sucks. My speed sucks. I wanted to die after an hour. When I'm just weight lifting for an hour, I can hold a plank for 3 minutes. At the end of 1.5 hours tonight, I couldn't hold it for a minute. Nor could I do 30 pushups on my feet with my boxing gloves on. I had to do girly it and even then I was doggin' it. I usually can bang out 30 "real" and very deep pushups like it is no big deal. My anaerobic capacity sucks again. I can keep it up, but I take too long to recover. And it drains me.

But I loved every second of it . I am higher than a kite right now. My head is quiet for once . I'm going to sleep like a rock tonight for the first time in days. I worked my ass off. For the first time, I absolutely understand the concept of "eat carbs when you've earned it" right now because let me tell you--once you get in tune with your body, it actually tells you exactly what it needs. And when you've been boxing and kicking for an hour and a half, it tells you to eat some god damn grains. And not nicely. It starts singing, "Feed me, Seymour" and makes you dream about bowls of rice or oats or quinoa. Big swimming pools that you can float in full of barley. It's been a long time since I've left a workout and could think of nothing but food. And really, that's how I know I've pushed myself--how single-minded I become about putting food into my mouth.

I think the problem in my hip still might be a problem. I'm feeling some weird twinge in my groin. I think the tendons are inflamed again. Already. I knew this might happen. And I guess, I just need to decide in a few weeks whether I just live with the pain and do what I love or quit. It makes me sick to think about it. I've been gone for 6 months but just 1.5 hours and everything makes sense again. That hunger is back again and it is fierce and consuming. My drive and my desire to push is back again. In only 75 minutes, the world finally makes sense again.

Right now, I'm just going to live with the pain, I think. And if I have to make a choice, then I guess I'll have to go to straight Western boxing. I can't not have this in my life.

I may never been good at it and maybe my body wasn't meant for it, but my personality was made to fight. I don't want to stop.

1 comment:

  1. I ache for you... I'm so sorry about Silly Hip. At least Silly Ankle had the wisdom to fall at my will and say, "Yes, Goddess, I will now begin to cooperate. I will stop being such a damned, whiny bitch." I can't wait to see you back in your triple-kicking element.

    After all, it was all due to your observation and tips that made a world of difference to my own kicking technique. Godspeed with that healing.


"Every morning I awake torn between a desire to save the world and an inclination to savor it. This makes it hard to plan the day."

-E.B. White

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