Cutting Weight, Healing Leg: Day Before

I weighed 161 pounds this morning. I ate approximately 1,542  calories today; I know this even though it is before 1pm because it's the day before weigh-in, and the fast is on. I burned 0 calories doing exercise, having been explicitly and repeatedly told not to do anything much today by Coach. [update! happily, this is a lie! I also had a light dinner. But I did not count the calories, as by that point I was well at the stage where all that mattered was weight, the actual weight of the things going into, coming out of, my body.]

Leg: Y'know, it'll be glad for a break -- the contusion has kind of knotted into its own tight, weird thing. But I think it's better not to mess with it now, not to "massage it out" or anything. Ride it, fight with it, and then we'll put it back together. People've fought through way way worse.

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Get scared of yourself.

I wrote this to a friend, today:

i actually know what you mean, about the "there's a fight at the end?" the training itself is such a thing, it starts to become like its own P90X. no, yup, there's a fight, which is scary: a dude your size and skill level hitting you hard as he can (you have pads on). but you're your size and skill-level too; that's the thing to remember. (oh. i may steal that, for the blog).  

Commence steal: It's a thing I think about. Sure: there's a guy I'll meet tomorrow, and we'll fight. And you know, for the level at which I do this, it'll be pretty real. We'll go at it. And I bet he's fit, and he's trained hard, and that there are things that he's better at than I am.

Also I'm fit. I've trained hard. There are things I'm better at.

So when I say "get scared of yourself" what I mean: imagine fighting someone taller. Or with longer arms. Or who's less tired in the 3rd round. Don't always imagine fighting someone... a better boxer, or tighter in the clinch. Imagine what might be imposing about you, own that and hold that and be that. And remember: tight. action. move. tight. action. move.

I'm totally loopsy right now. You can see the post about food and pooping, the journaling of this day, to get a real clear sense of that.

Here's a list of things that Coach and others said to me, last night and over the last few days. You'll notice that they contradict each other. I'm not including that like, "oh look, how stupid." I'm including it like, "this is what it is, and you have to reconcile for yourself what works and makes sense. It's a tough sport. Sort it out. Go fight hard."

NO you cannot F$*(ING do YOGA! don't DO ANYTHING! REST.

get a massage

don't get a massage

relax. stay calm.

kill him

you're there because you want to be

chop his legs off

listen to your corner, even if you think the advice might get you hurt, if he's saying throw right even if you can't throw that right

don't get a massage the day of the fight

get a massage

get mean. be mean. start being mean to people, now. be nice after. get mean

And everyone, always,  everyone asks how you're feeling.

I also wrote to a friend today that no, I would not get hurt, but instead the fight would be about "joy, fight, movement."

because this, apparently, is how TBI rolls

I hope all that's right. I think it will be. My first fight was just: very exhiliarating, really fun. I was disappointed to lose on decision, but I kept describing it to everyone as "one of the most fun things a person can do," and like that. My second fight was rough: outclassed and outweighed, I got battered about and got hurt. 

I think this one will be more like the first. With more action. Joy. Fight. Move.

There was another thing I wanted to say here. But... I forget. Let's face it, I'm pretty hungry, and I'm not 100% at my sharpest just right now. KnowwhatI'msaying.

Last thing. Then I'm going to move towards trying to sleep, hoping to poop, all of that. I have a tendency, and I think it isn't just me, to frame upcoming things like this in terms of destiny and innate qualities of myself. Good or bad. I will win because I'm the kind of person who... I might lose since I'm the kind of guy who... 

And I don't want to pretend, actually, that I think that is nonsense. Because there is an infinite final reckoning and knowledge; a sum of me and my choices and impacts that fully encompasses, and can therefore reasonably label, the "kind of guy who" I am. However, another way of saying what I just described is God--however you understand that word. In other words, it's not really how our own crazily limited understanding, nevermind in fact probably time itself, constantly branching between possibilities, works. What I mean is that, yes, there's a "kind of" person writing this, at this moment. There's a body, with strengths and with weaknesses. There are habits, tendencies -- there's whatever the material impact of all this training has been.

But there is also, there actually is, a wide open field of unknown tomorrows. For 6 minutes, tomorrow evening. Me and this guy will throw ourselves at each other. We'll figure something out; something that emerges as true in those six minutes, for those six minutes.

I'm excited. I'm frightened. I'm excited. It isn't decided; it never is till it's done. We can't know what will be till that bell rings.

tight. action. move.

tight. action. move.