Labour For Love

February 5, 2013

My body is the only body I have ever lived in and we have been trucking along for over 39 years now. We are more happy than we have ever been. There is nothing graceful about our jock walk, our athletic physique has taken away the fullness of our boobs and butt, and sometimes we hunger for a return to the days of whiskey and cigarettes and fast food. But that time in life though often fun was not at all fulfilling. Delicious empty moment like delicious empty calories. Intoxicating Instant Gratification.

Sometimes people ask me how old I am and when I tell them they say things like, "age is just a number" or "it doesn't matter, how old would you be if you didn't know how old you are?". I wonder why they feel the need to say these things. Why do they offer condolences for something I myself do not feel bad about? My age is my age. It is what it is. "A rose is a rose is a rose..." I take no issue with it. I  do not wish for less years.

PXC36

It is similar to when I lose and people say things like, "you didn't lose, you learned". I did lose. It happened. She won, I lost. I do not feel sorry for myself. I do not run away from my losses or ignore them or let them destroy me. I stand face to face with them. My defeat and I, we talk we scream we push we cry we kick we punch we tackle we submit we reason we embrace we go back to training... and hope we will never meet again.

Pretending things are something else is not what I consider a healthy approach to dealing with life though it seems that is how we are raising our children these days. "Let's not address losing and call it by a less harmful name. Let's give everyone a medal for participation so all our kids will feel super great about themselves! Hooray!"

I understand why the young are flabbergasted by my age. When I was 16 I was asked by a teacher what I thought old was and I said with great conviction, 50. Fifty was definitely very old to me. My parents were 47 then. Way old.

It is a mystery to me though when those who have some years of their own are so concerned. I wonder what is going on in their own lives and their own bodies that they attribute to age that makes it so hard for them to believe that what I am doing is possible.

PXC36

"Can't you fight women in your own age group?" - I am not interested in being the best within the parameters of a certain age. I am striving to be the best overall. I will fight as long as I am a contender.

"How does it feel to fight someone younger?" - It feels natural. It is all I know. They are who I train with. They are who I fight. You should ask them if I was an easy fight, if I was what they expected. Their experience with me is unique in their world. My experience with them is normal in my world.

"Do you wish you were doing this years ago?" - When I lament or reminisce I do not spend my time thinking about what could have been regarding fighting or other career choices or relationships lost or moments passed or anything else. My head is up. My eyes look forward. I place one foot in front of the other and I keep walking. I am grateful that I get to do this now.

"Isn't it harder now that you're older?" - No, I am more fit and more agile than I have ever been. In my youth I was more body than mind. In my years ahead I will be more mind than body. But right now I am enjoying the time in life when my mind and my body are in balance.

"How much longer until you stop?" - I am just getting started.

Baby, I am just getting started.

I am 39 years old and I am happy. I hope I will be able to earnestly say that on most of the days of the rest of my life no matter how the number changes or what ambitions I may be pursuing.

Adapt your dreams to where you are in life then adapt your life to your dreams. Whether you are 16 or 36 or 60. Follow your heart. Find your happiness. You will encounter obstacles and trials and doubt but also great rewards and hope. Love starves us and feeds us, hurts us and nurtures us like nothing else. Labour for Love. Your Love.

Rise I Will

I am trying not to think in retrospect. I am trying to let go of moments passed by as I cannot turn back time and choose differently. I am trying to convince myself of what I have been saying for years: It is possible to live a life without regret if we simply make the best decisions we can with the knowledge we have at the time.

photo by Min Kim

There were moments I could have done so differently. My ability to see and choose wisely were clouded by other things not within my control that if I explained would only sound like excuses. Ultimately none of that matters. I frankly did not seize the opportunities. A champion would have not wasted the chances no matter the circumstances. But I am not a champion. Yet.

And so I am telling myself to let go of what could have been so that I may let in the knowledge I need to become the fighter I will be. I am squeezing out the tears that get stuck below my "always be positive for the public" face and allowing myself to feel the kind of pain only heartache can deliver. Because letting go and ignoring are two different things. And though I have tried I know that all I think and feel and believe whether right or wrong cannot nor will not be ignored. They must be allowed to preach and holler and wail their disappointments as they leave my body.

And I am grateful. I am grateful when that wretched feeling of loneliness fills me because then I know I have hit the bottom. And though I will linger in emptiness there a moment I have lived enough now to understand that the moment will pass. And from the bottom there is only one direction to go. Up. And I will rise. Rise I will to be greater than I was.

And I tell myself again what I have told myself so many times before, After today there is always tomorrow and with tomorrow there is always new hope.

And then without sleep the morning comes and the blinds glow from the promising brightness of the rising sun.

Caterpillar. Fear. Butterfly.

Mostly this life is "choose your own adventure" but unlike the books of my youth we cannot re-read the story to discover different paths and outcomes.  What's done is done.  What is left are indications of what needs to be learned so that we do not repeat our mistakes.

photo by Anita Hoehen

In fighting the primary goal is victory.  The secondary goal is to partake in an exciting battle.  Do not misunderstand what I just stated.  We always fight to win and never do we fight to not lose or simply survive. At Invicta FC3 my secondary goal was achieved.  My primary goal was not.  If I had it to do all over again would I re-read the book and make alternate choices throughout the three adventurous rounds? Absolutely.  I most definitely would have made some different decisions.

That being said I also do not have any regrets.  I fought the best fight I could at that particular moment in time.  I used all my resources to put all the parts together and the sum total was the end result.  My opponent was the better fighter that night.  She deserved her victory.

Image taken from a FB post

There is much to feel positive about and proud of.  I am looking forward to learning some very specific techniques that will improve my fighting tremendously.  I am pleased to be able to identify my needs so that I have particulars to work on.

What I want to express though are some of the negative thoughts that whispered in my mind immediately following the loss.  I do not share this in wanting positive affirmation or encouragement.  I am already surrounded by that.  Also now these feelings have already left my concerns though I know they will occasionally jab at me again over the course of time.  I am talking to talk, yammering to yammer.  Perhaps taking what residue of negativity that is left inside my body out and placing it here.

What did I feel?  I felt a low buzz of anxiety swarming through my heart even though everything I vocalized was positive as I was trying to reassure those who were trying to reassure me about the loss.  What was I fearing as I was sitting there in the "green room" at the beginning of my career as a professional fighter?  I was thinking of the future.  I feared the truth that lay ahead of me was not going to be pretty.

38 Years in the Making.  It's Official.
I'm an Athlete. It says so on the Pass.

I have heard the phrase "So much potential" my whole life.  Now I stand in a position where time will tell me if potential will become a reality.  Sometimes what I fear is the possibility of never coming into fruition.  What if I cannot be what so many believe I can be; what I have believed I can be; what I hope so much to be?

My body.  My mind.   My spirit.  My circumstances.  They must all conspire to work together.  They must choreograph and rehearse a ballet to be improvised.  They must speak one language at one time multiple times.

It is easy to talk about what could have been, should have been, would have been... if only... if only... if only...

Reality bends so easily.

image blatantly stolen from the world wide web

There are no excuses for me anymore.  In the world of fighting my time to become is in view.  The answers I seek will reveal themselves over the course of the next year or two or three.  I am hopeful the metamorphosis gives birth to the butterfly.  I am fearful of the caterpillar suffocating in the chrysalis.

But still I understand it would be better to know than to always wonder and I am fully aware that such an opportunity is a gift to be grateful for.  However seeing this does not stop the occasional fear.  I only know that my fears will not stop me from learning the truth even though it is the possible truth that I fear.

Hopeful in Love

Invicta Fighting Championships is making for exciting times in the world of fighting.  We are all rooting for its success because they are making a difference and changing the lives of present and future athletes.  InvictaFC is giving girls and women a destination to dream towards that did not exist before.  The young will take this for granted.  The jaded will be skeptical.  The rest of us are hopeful.

I am grateful my time is now and that I did not start this so many years ago.  If I had I am fairly certain that I would be one of the jaded and skeptical.  My life lessons would have been completely different.  It feels good to enter this world innocent and untainted.  I began the long process of letting go of the idea of being a professional athlete some twenty years ago.  Twenty Years Ago!!!  This unexpected change in direction has been such an amazing opportunity and gift.  Everyday I say, Thank You.  Never in my youth would I have imagined such possibilities.

I think often about what I am learning from all this.  Beyond being educated on the technical aspects.  Beyond training the Mind, Body and Soul to Fight like a Champion.  I have come to realize that the most important thing fighting has taught me is How to Love again.

Lovers of Life, Lovers in Life, Lovers for Life

I am not sure when in my younger days the shift occurred, when my heart hardened and became unwilling and afraid.  No one has left me and my parents are a prime example of Lovers of Life, Lovers in Life, Lovers for Life.  They are the epitome of Partnership, Thick and Thin, High and Low, Sickness and Health, Faith and Perseverance.  They are what I should believe is possible.

At times I find myself envious of small children as they express their wants and needs and pains and joys as they feel them.  Their love is pure and unguarded.  No fear of rejection.  No censor for social norms.  They make it look so simple and ultimately I do understand that it is if only I would let go.  I no longer wonder why I have kept the world at arm's length.  I simply accept that I do and work on gaining emotional access.

It has been pointed out to me more than once that while in relationships I seem to have one foot out the door.  I have never argued with this observation.  Truth is Truth though I had believed myself to be in love a few times.  In retrospect I was more likely 'in need', 'in comfort', 'in fear of loneliness'.  I do not want to completely dismiss their importance to me.  It all meant so much at the time but when we are young it seems that just about everything means so very much.  They were a love of some kind.

Fighting began with mysterious intrigue and fascination mixed with uncertainty and fear of disappointment.  It was not Love at First Sight.  We even broke up once for nine months.  Fighting patiently found a way to sneak past all my defenses and into my daydreams, into my everyday, into my tomorrow, into my thoughts, into my breathing.  For the right reasons.  I love to fight.  I love training.  I love the raw physical exchange.  I love the mental challenges.  I love the constant education.  I love the relationships being built.

"And if you want it come and get it for crying out loud. The love that I was giving you was never in doubt.
Let go your heart, Let go your head and feel it now..." -David Gray

I have let go.  I am feeling now.  I am here for the love.  I am not afraid.

I am Hopeful for my days ahead.  Hopeful for these days now as a Fighter.  Hopeful for the days that will follow in which I will give myself freely over to loving to do something else.  Hopeful for the possibility of actually loving a person completely enough to build a life together.  Hopeful that the main barrier of being Able to Love has been shattered and what awaits me is simply more love in more unexpected ways.  Hopeful in Love.

Compassion

The last time I smiled at an opponent prior to fighting was last October. I do not do that anymore. During the ground and pound portions of that battle there were brief moments when I saw the young woman.

Compassion. I am hurting a girl. Compassion.

There is no room for compassion inside the cage. At least not until after the fight has ended. Even then I will only be civil and professional because I may have to fight her again. I cannot afford to care about her. Indifference is my friend.

Recently I was asked about how the rules differed from amateur to pro. I mentioned that I will get to strike her head with my elbows and knees.

"Is that necessary? It seems extreme. Savage."

It is savage. It is two bodies aggressively and brutally trying to inflict as much damage as possible within the guidelines of the rules. The rules and regulations are what allow it to be a sport. The referees. The judges. The myriad of safeguards put into place to protect the participants.

The sport is savage but not psychotic. We understand reality. We intend to harm but do not wish our opponent any major permanent injury. We move with respect for each other as athletes and competitors. There is room for humanity here but only a little. Too much is dangerous.

Sometimes girls of my approximate physical dimensions want to train where I train because I am fortunate to learn from the best. I say Okay but really I want to say No. I am not very good at being selfish but I am practicing. It is an important and useful tool when employed at the right times.

I have a primary training partner. Jessica Penne. I appreciate her. We are similar in size though structurally different. We have our own strengths. We improve together. We challenge each other. We are a good compliment to one another. Every fighter should be so lucky.

We have an occasional training partner. Jordan McDonald. She is the Gemini to we Two Aquarians.  I do not know what that means but it seems to work for us. Our relationships are ever learning and unique and we are all grateful to have found each other.

That being said I do not want to train with more girls about my weight. Not even for one session. We will inevitably laugh together because I will make bad jokes. It is what I do. We will laugh then I will like her then I will feel compassion.

As women fighters we are still limited in numbers. Finding opponents can be difficult. It is realistic to assume that there is a good chance we will have to go toe to toe in the future. And in that future should it come to be...

I cannot afford to feel compassion.

Nemesis

It seems that I am constantly trying to outsmart myself.  Each fight presents unique psychological challenges.  I wonder about why it is so natural for us to gravitate towards the negative and the complicated rather than be drawn towards the positive and the simple.  Defeat.  Doubt.  Anxiety.  Uncertainty.

My last MMA fight was a rematch versus an opponent that was awarded a split decision win against me last October.  That loss has been a quietly pestering monkey on my back for a myriad of reasons.  I considered the possibility of losing again.  Would that monkey grow to be a heavy nagging gorilla and weigh me down?  Is this opponent to be my one nemesis?  Will she be the one that eludes me, the style I cannot beat?  Do I want to know?  No, I do not want to know.  Yes, I do want to know.  What if... What if... What if...

photo courtesy of the world wide web

I actively work to push these thoughts aside.  I will not let them be in charge of me.  I focus on the purity of competition which is  a lovely thing.  A simple thing.  "You have to learn the rules of the game.  And then, you have to play better than anyone else." -Einstein

My Body versus Your Body.  My DNA versus Your DNA.  My Mind versus Your Mind.  My Heart versus Your Heart.  My Will versus Your Will.  My Training versus Your Training.  My Action versus Your Reaction versus My Reaction versus Your Action.  One fighter will win.  One fighter will lose.  It will be tactical.  It will be aggressive.  It will be beautiful.

I hear the rhythm.  My feet begin to slide, to shuffle.  My shoulders shimmy and feint.  My hands and head are in motion, ready and anticipating.  Nothing else exists in this moment except the dance as I imagine it.  I let go.  I let go for what will be will be.  I know everything I need to know for the experience awaiting me.  I have practiced the choreography.  I understand the motivation behind each movement.  I am ready.

My positive self has outsmarted my negative self yet again.  Perhaps it is I who has been my own nemesis all along...

photo by Cassiano Laureano

"Courage is Grace under Pressure"

“Courage is Grace under Pressure” – Ernest Hemingway

This past Friday I was to have my second Muay Thai match.  I was looking forward to field testing some theories and concepts and techniques that I cannot practice on my training partners.  I wanted to attempt some things on a body I did not have to be nice to; on a body I did not have to hold back on; on a body that did not have on a belly pad and focus mitts.

As the event was about to begin one of the athletic commission officials informed me that my opponent would not be participating in the evening’s planned activities.  He said she was having a panic attack of some sort and has chosen to pull out of the fight. 

Disappointment.  I try not to show it, to maintain composure.  There is a part of me that understands how this could happen and a part of me that feels compassion for her.  Then there is the part of me that wishes she would find her breath and strength and step into the ring with me.  Of course I am sure there is a part of her that wishes for the same thing.

Disappointment. Friends are at the venue and others on their way to watch and support.  The ones that are here have paid and the promoter at the gym has chosen to have poor relations with me rather than to refund their entrance fee.  I will not be fighting at the Muay Thai Kick Boxing Gym on Cabrito Road in Van Nuys, CA anymore.

photo by Jill Morley

I would love to take credit for being so intimidating that she became physically incapacitated but I doubt that was what occurred.  Her battles with anxiety are her own.  We are not all built to be fighters.

Fighting is a heightened experience for sure.  Though you have your team and your corner rooting for you with unconditional love it is still just you in the spotlight.  You and your opponent are the focus of all eyes watching.  There is no one to pass the ball to, no one to hide behind, no injury to fake, no space to get lost in, no bench to warm, no one to blame if things go wrong.  The feeling of responsibility and the weight that goes with it can be overwhelming.

Since the beginning of this fight life people have asked me if I am afraid.  Yes.  Yes, I am afraid.  But not of my opponent.  She cannot do me more bodily harm than my body can handle.  She cannot break my heart. She cannot take my will.  Only I can relinquish that.  My fears are of letting down my coaches and teammates; of poorly representing them and friends and family.  These anxieties are quieting as experience is being gained, hollow whispers in a passing breeze. 

No one is leaving me.  We are bound by what all humans feel.  We are bound by love and time shared and a common goal, a common journey. As fighters, as teammates and training partners and coaches and competitors we are bound by Blood, Sweat and Tears.  We are bound by defeats and glories, trials and tribulations, passions and pains.  For the Love of Fight, We are bound.  Win, Lose or Draw, as long as we walk the same path and continue to learn and grow with each other, we are bound.

For me I am grateful that always when the lights come up all doubt disappears from me.  I have worked diligently and excelled in rehearsal and it is now showtime. The curtain rises. All fears fade and I am confident I will proceed in the systematic destruction of my adversary. I believe in the writing. I believe in the director. I have studied my character and understand my role in this production.

Interview for MiddeEasyTV after the Tuff-N-Uff fight

Tuff-n-Uff vs. Jordan Gaza (Promo/Full Fight/Post Fight Interview)

Dance Party

During an impromptu dance party yesterday morning with my nieces ages one and five I realized that boxing training has made me a much better dancer! I used to be primarily a head bopping hands feet very composed mover and not much of a swaying jellyfish rump shaker. But now, watch out! My hips and shoulders are getting into the groove and I am all over the place! My willingness to be physically silly has become more free! "Shimmy Shimmy CoCo Pop Shimmy Shimmy Pow"!

A pro boxing champ recently called me "awkward" in regards to the way I move in the ring... and this was a compliment! Ha! This is fight training, Baby. This is modern dance. This is the martial and the arts and the mix there of.

Let's have some fun! "Dance! Nothing left for me to do but dance!... Got canned heat in my heals tonight, Baby...!"