Sunday, September 16, 2012

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.

Thursday, August 2, 2012

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.

Sunday, July 29, 2012

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

Monday, June 11, 2012

"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.

Monday, May 21, 2012

Playing it Safe to Win...

on the Tonle Sap in Cambodia
There are some things you cannot practice on your training partners. Some things you can only do in the actual fight. These things require the most courage, the most willingness to risk.

“A ship is safe in harbor, but that's not what ships are for.” ~ William Shedd

I wonder, what am I for?

In basketball if you are pushing hard on a fast break and choose to hit the J from the three point line well... If you actually hit it your bench and the crowd goes wild with pride and joy; if you miss then Coach and everyone are screaming and throwing their hands up at what an awful decision you made. I have known both these moments more than once.

I have some things I want to do and they do not involve playing it safe to win. They involve a willingness to miss, a willingness to fail. They require a faith in myself that come what may I will find a way to get myself out of whatever hole I dig myself into if I do not succeed in the trying.

I do not mean making unexpected choices in the third round if we are feeling that I had a good handle on the first two. I understand as in basketball that it is good strategy to burn time in the fourth quarter if we are in the lead. But getting there what I want is... I want to fight like I train. I want my imagination to take over my hesitations. I want to do the things I dare to dream.

As I am editing, reading this aloud to myself, I feel my heart constricting and tears begging me to let go, to feel free to fight my fight. And I wonder again, what is this love?

If my bloodline, my environment and my teachers built me as a ship, what kind of ship have they built? For what purpose have they built it? I know that though this ship is still being restructured that they have equipped it with quality gear. But will I be able to access the knowledge I need to steer myself where they want me to go? Will my mind, body and soul weather through the unpredictable storms and currents?


But mostly, will I dare to sail into the unknown waters that sometimes whisper to me the kind of possibilities known only to those who are willing to fail, willing to disappoint, willing to reach beyond safety?

I have some things I want to do and they do not involve playing it safe to win.


Tuff-n-Uff Promo


Sunday, May 6, 2012

Tuff-N-Uff: 2012 May 25


StudioMMA Podcast Interview May 3, 2012


[WMMA] Kaiyana Rain of Epic Fighting 12: “Win, Lose, or Draw — She’s Gonna Feel Me”

Skriven av: 
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04 May, 2012 - 16:14
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Publicerad i:
STUDIO MMA, VENICE, CA — Kings MMA and Werdum Combat Team standout, Kaiyana Rain [2-1-1 MMA], fights tonight at Epic Fighting 12 in San Diego, headlining that event.  Her amateur bout against Lena Hellqvist [1-1 MMA] is for the promotion’s 115-pound title.  Rain is the training partner of professional WMMA fighter Jessica Penne [9-1 MMA], who made a splash last weekend with her memorable TKO of Lisa Ellis in the co-main event of Invicta 1.
[UPDATE] Yesterday, Rain joined Studio MMA reporter Daniel Patinkin for a podcast for an in-depth chat about life and women’s MMA, which you can listen to below:









photo by Bill Fulcher
For the complete profile at StudioMMA: http://www.studiomma.com/2012/05/04/wmma-kaiyana-rain-of-epic-fighting-12-win-lose-or-draw-shes-gonna-feel-me/

Tuesday, March 20, 2012

Training the Mind (a.k.a. ReEducating Kai)

photo by Gary Lai
I spend more time training my mind than I do my body.  I joke with one of my coaches that even though I am a girl I am the least needy of all his fighters.  This is oddly humorous to us.  These big muscular manly men need more hand holding and positive affirmation than this silly little old gal. 

When I first began at this fighting life I had a friend who did not want to hear me say that I lost a competition.  I explained that is what happens in competition.  Someone wins and someone loses.  She would reply that even so I should not say that I lost.  We would talk in circles about this on more than one occasion.  Each time ending with me conveying that I fully understand that losing does not make me a LOSER.  She would say, Okay.  Okay.  The way only women can say, Okay.  And I would wonder to myself why she could not believe me.  So worried was she that my feelings of self worth were being diminished by the words, I lost.  I think she must be one of those moms that feel their children should get trophies for participation and that scores should not be kept in their soccer games and that MVPs should not be named.

Another friend of mine would so often attempt to prepare me for loss that I began to wonder if she had any confidence in me at all. She would tell me she admired most the fighters who had gone through many losses and still found a way to prevail.  She would tell me of how a singular loss had negatively affected other fighters she had known.  I would tell her that I appreciated what she was trying to do but that I would like to not talk so much about losing and instead focus on winning.  I would assure her that whatever the outcome that I will be alright but that when I step into the ring or the cage or on the mat I cannot think about how it is alright for me to lose or that losing is even a possibility.  To which she would say, Okay.  Okay.  The way only women can say, Okay.  So very unconvincingly.

photo by Gerald Fontejon
Recently I lost my first Muay Thai match which comes just after my first MMA loss.  That makes two in a row and truth be told it feels more like three, actually four including jiu-jitsu.  A friend expressed his concern about how this may negatively affect the cultivation of a winner’s mindset.  I told him that I am aware and actively working on this and that situations will test me and only time will tell who I will become but right now I am so grateful to be on this journey.  The Good, The Bad and The Ugly.  This journey that holds so many highs and lows, feelings of greatness and feelings of defeat.  All of it.  I am honored to be here, to live the dream, to have this opportunity.  I take none of it for granted.  This thing I feel so passionate about that tears well up in my eyes even when talking to strangers about what I do. 

When I played high school basketball so many years ago I remember hearing that a major university was only taking players from winning teams.  I was not on a winning team though I felt that I could hold my own with the best of them.  I did not understand then why they would not even look my way.  It felt unfair.  But after thinking about it I could see their point.  With thousands of girls to choose from and so much to teach them why bother with one of the hardest things to teach a person, How to Win.  Of course the physical is required in sports, but even more necessary is the mind.  It is the mind that separates Champions from being the ordinary kind of extraordinary all great athletes are.

In fighting I am often told about padded records.  I am told about opponents being chosen that are not competitive, “Tomato Cans”.  I am told about wins being given to up and coming prospects to enforce the winner’s mindset.  I have seen this happen and it never ceases to baffle me.  That one can find a way to be proud of beating someone you know to be a significantly lesser fighter.  Or to be told you won and to believe it even though we are in the age of instant video replay, video proof to the contrary.  But our reality is our perspective and our truth is what we believe and I suppose that is why these practices still exist.  The mind is a powerful thing.

For me, I do not want my ego coddled.  I am not interested in fighting someone considered A Sure Thing.  I do not want to ever be “given” a win.  Please, not that.  An empty victory based on lies seems an insult to how hard I work, an insult to my intelligence. I want to live this experience with my integrity (“The quality of being honest”) in tact.

For me, after losing, I go through the normal thoughts and feelings most people go through I suppose.  I feel an overwhelming disappointment in the outcome.  I wonder if I am cut out for this, if I have taken on more than I can handle, if I will ever be good enough, if I have let people down, if I continue to lose will my coaches and supporters stop believing in me, will I stop believing in myself.

photo by Gerald Fontejon
The fortunate thing for me is that these thoughts dissipate fairly quickly from me.  Within minutes.  As if I am in an abusive relationship I begin to only remember the good times.  That was fun!  Despair and uncertainty fade fast and the bruises of the ego and the soul are forgotten.  Within a short time I am deconstructing the fight and looking at what I did right and what I did wrong and what I want to learn and practice to be better at this the next time around.  All that was for a moment intensely insufferable evaporates from me at a more rapid rate than the perspiration on my body.   

There are some moments in life that are so impactful that they will leave a definite impression on you, change your course of travel.  However most moments are given as much significance to them as you choose to assign.  I was a complete human being before fighting.  I will be a complete human being after fighting.  And I am a complete human being now while I am fighting.  The wins and the losses will make for a sort of mathematical equation in the future and someday I will look at the sum and all its parts.  But that is to dissect and think about later.  Right now is about right now.

Right now I am drawing sketches, carving and sanding, testing theories, debating concepts, writing rough drafts, editing and revising.  Right now I am designing the fighter I will become.  Deconstruction.  Reconstruction.  Field Test.  Repeat. Over and Over and Over and Over…

Sunday, January 29, 2012

While Training...

I was running the neighborhood along Sunset Boulevard when I passed a boy moving in the opposite direction who smiled my way and his smile reminded me of a young man I once loved.  A young man who is now married and with his wife has three cats.  A young man who is no longer a young man.  I considered turning around to chase after the boy and his smile.  I considered looking behind me to see if he was too far away to catch up to, to recapture.  I considered the promises we once made many years ago.  I considered.  I smiled.  I kept my gaze ahead of me.  I kept my stride steady.  I kept my momentum forward.

Monday, January 9, 2012

Nancy Reagan and PEDs

It is interesting to me when athletes and their entourage feel they should be allowed to use PEDs because everyone else is doing it or because they believe the benefits outweigh the possible dangers or etc etc etc.  So many that use truly believe that they are not cheating by doing so.  The psychology behind this thinking is quite intriguing to me.

Photo by: this image I blatantly stole from the
world wide web

The rules state that we are not permitted to use these drugs and still participate in the sport.  If the rules state that I am not allowed to eye gouge my opponent but I do so intentionally then I am cheating.  If the rules state that I am not allowed to put plaster in my hand wraps but I do so then I am cheating.  If the rules unreasonably state that I can only run five miles a week but I go out incognito to amass more miles because I want that extra cardio edge then I am cheating.  It does not matter if I consider a rule to be absurd.  If I choose to play a particular sport I should abide by the given rules.

This is not about whether the rules should be as they currently are or changed.  This is not a question of whether as an adult individual if you should have the right to put whatever you want into your body.  If the work you choose does not state that you are not allowed to put Performance Enhancing Drugs in your body and that is what you want to do then by all means have at it!  PED away!!!  Go be the most juiced up bartender or lawyer or carpenter or professor or cashier or poet or comedian the world has ever seen!

That being said, have a percentage of athletes been cheating in various ways since the beginning of organized sports?  Most likely.  Since my days of youth oh so many years ago I have said: If you beat me fair and square then my hat off to you; if you had to cheat to beat me then well… that is what you had to do.  For some odd reason it does not generally bother me much.  I have no respect for it and I do not condone it but neither do I dwell on it.  From what I have seen most people often do not deal with themselves honestly regarding many subjects and justify their actions in the most amazing ways.  I find that voicing a complaint usually gets me denial or reasons it happened.

Explaining one’s behavior does not Excuse one’s behavior.

I cannot tell you how often I say this.

Photo by: this image I blatantly stole
from the world wide web
Do not get me wrong I am not passing grand judgments on anyone.  I am a good person who has done some bad things also.  Although when it comes to sports I have my whole life been a by the book player.  But still I understand how and why athletes either turn to using or are pressured to use any of the myriad of drugs quietly available.  Money and Pressure and Power can be immensely convincing.  If you have ever watched young children play games you will see that most cheat on a regular basis simply for the sheer joy of winning and have no qualms about it.  Nancy Reagan would tell you to, Just Say No.  (Yes, I am old enough to remember this, Ha!)  But my guess is that even Nancy Reagan has broken a rule or two in her lifetime as well.

Ultimately though it truly is very plain, if you cheated then you cheated.  If you got caught you got caught.  And even if you did not get caught it does not change the action of cheating.  Does it mean be extra careful to not to be found out?  If that is how you translate it for yourself then that is the path you will take.  Does it mean become the person you claim to be?  Does it mean own up to your actions and do something about it not just talk about doing something about it?  Does it mean lay low for a bit because it will all blow over in time?  These are all personal questions for athletes to answer for themselves as ultimately we only have to answer to ourselves… Everyone else we can lie to… Or at the very least explain it away or place the blame elsewhere... And even then I find that we just as easily believe what we want our reality to be and our reality is whatever we believe it to be.  Acknowledging the truth would require us to be accountable for our actions. 

Now why would we choose to live in that harsh world?  

Friday, October 28, 2011

“In love, it is better to know and be disappointed, than to not know and always wonder.”

There are many sayings that get thrown at you while growing up and I attached myself to plenty of them.  “Outside looking in, Inside looking out” was the theme of much of my bad woe-is-me 8th grade attempts at poetry.  “It’s not whether you win or lose, it’s how you play the game”.  I swallowed this one like a giant sedative horse pill disguised as a vitamin.  Everything I played I played with great dedication and passion but still I cannot help but think that I could have learned my lessons about losing and at the same time gotten a great deal more satisfaction from all I had put into practice had we won more often.  “It’s not a fear of failure, it’s a fear of success”.  That was a great excuse to not fully be an active participant in my own dreams.  That is bullshit.

Who would not choose a path of guaranteed success?  Who fears success?  Really?

Think about it.  If what you want to be is a great parent do you fear being successful at it?  We can list a plethora of occupations from the seemingly mundane to those that appear glorious, in what you love to do and I mean really love to do not just sort of like or do because the bills have to be paid somehow… in what you love to do whatever it may be, do you really fear being extraordinary at it?

I do not.  If anything I fear finding out that I am simply ordinary at it.

I understand that with success comes great responsibility.  But if you could be promised the outcome would you not choose it?  Success over Failure?  Success over Mediocrity?

Recently a well known professional fighter at the end of training as we all gathered per the norm of how we end our sessions spoke from his heart to those of us just getting started on this path.  He said for us to truly enjoy this beginning.  That the Portuguese word for amateur means, for the love of (“from French, from Latin amātor lover, from amāre to love”), and how a part of him wishes he was still an amateur because over time as you succeed more will be expected of you and the pressure to perform is immense.  Not only will this sport bleed your heart and your soul but it will also destroy your body.  You will wake up in pain.  You will spend your day in pain.  You will go to sleep in pain.  And you will probably live another fifty years this way after you retire.  He was trying to tell us to truly apreciate the pure love of fighting, the pure beauty of being a competitor before managers and promoters and fans and image consultants tainted our passions. He was trying to warn us that success is not all champagne and parties and glamour.  On the contrary, by choosing to be fighters we were choosing a path that would bring us great hardships and suffering in mind, body and soul.

On positive days I feel unstoppable.  Nothing will stand in my way.  I have what it takes to rise against the challenges that will come my way.  But on hard days I sometimes doubt myself.  What have I gotten myself into?  Really, what insanity have I committed myself to these next X number of years?  What if I am not all that good?  I feel tears flooding into my sinuses and I push them back down to save for a more private moment.

And then I remember what I have said here and say to myself whenever I begin to see the light coming through behind the veil of darkness… after today there is always tomorrow and with tomorrow there is always new hope.

Back to the gym.  Back to work.  Back to school.  Back to learning.  Back to believing in the possibilities.  Back to Love.

“Risk! Risk anything! Care no more for the opinions of others, for those voices. Do the hardest thing on earth for you. Act for yourself. Face the truth.” -Katherine Mansfield

Whether I be ordinary or extraordinary... "it is better to know and be disappointed, than to not know and always wonder..."  But let us hope that I will not be disappointed.


Saturday, October 22, 2011

The Crazy Things We Do For Love…

Tomorrow I fight.  I have a nice shiner from training and I am beginning to worry that the Doctor will not let me in the cage.  I am getting desperate.  I want to Fight.  I am told to hard boil an egg and rub it on the bruise, that the color will be soaked into the yoke.  My reasonable mind does not believe this but my hopeful self is willing to try anything.
So I cook eggs and peel them and wait for them to cool just enough so they do not burn my skin.  I then stand in front of the mirror and roll an egg over the black and blue.  I am thinking these are free range grass fed organic eggs… fancy eggs… I should be eating them… these premium quality eggs.  With my second try I have developed some technique.  I have found my rhythm.  It is less sloppy.  It feels oddly nice.  But the results are disappointing.  I am still purple and the yolks are still yellow.
Tea bag.  Massage the area with a warm tea bag they say.  My reasonable mind is beginning to think all these tricks are simply saying to bring heat to the bruise and massage the old blood out.  This makes sense.  So I lay with a heated pad over my eyes then massage then heat then massage then heat etc etc etc and while I am doing this my insanity returns.  I am thinking about how I should take a needle to the little pocket of fluid that bubbles out at the corner of my brow near my temple.  Drain it like cauliflower ear.  For some reason this seems like a good idea.
I consult my nurse friend, Mimi.  She says, No. 
Well shit… I was hoping she would say, Oh yeah no big deal stick a syringe near the corner of your eye and suction out all that extraneous squishy stuff.
I spend the rest of the day alternating between ice packs and heat packs.  I am massaging the little swelling and thinking if I cannot puncture my face from the outside to free the goop then maybe I can push it around enough to create a hole on the inside of my head so it has somewhere to go.  
What did I just say?!  Really?!  "punture my face"? "hole on the inside of my head" ?
It is official, I am certifiable.  I am insane. 
Before I got hitched to Fight I would have said, Not even when pigs fly would I ever, to all of it.  I begin to laugh at myself as I think, Oh goodness me the crazy things we do for Love…

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

CuddleBuddle? ~ Them's Ain't Fightin' Words...

I have been taking notice of my niece who does not quite yet have two years of exploring this world under her belt.  I have been envious of this time in her young life.  Her freedom of expression is only just beginning to be stifled by expectations of how we are to behave.

When she sees me holding her older sister she stands before us and makes protesting sounds, she is making demands.  When I lift her onto my other knee she is still not content.  She starts to push her sister away.  She wants all the attention.  I do what is right.  I tell her to share, that I have enough love for both of them.  But what I am thinking is how I wish I could still do that.

I think of my grandmother who passed away some years ago.  For a moment I dream of childhood.  There must have been a time when I needed tenderness that I would walk toward her with arms raised asking to be loved and comforted.  I wonder when that stopped, why that stopped.

In fight training we are so damn tough so all the time.  But this thing we are doing we are all so passionate about that sometimes emotions flood through us and sneak out of our bodies in streams of tears.  You would think with all our jiu-jitsu training we would be expert huggers but we are not... not with each other.  No one holds me when I fall apart.  Everyone just feels uncomfortable and uncertain of what to do.  And when I have seen frustration and heartbreak crying I have wanted to hold them and comfort them, these teammates of mine, but I have not.

My little niece would.  I know if she saw me or you in pain she would not hesitate to scoop us into her arms.  She would cuddlebuddle any one of us.  She has not yet been told not to... and oh how I do envy that about her.

Friday, July 29, 2011

Weight Weight Don't Tell Me...

... Please do not tell me that I am going to have to lose weight.  Please do not tell me that I am going to have to add endurance cardio to my already full training schedule.  Please do not tell me that I will have to give up eggs over-easy over rice and bacon cheese burgers and pasta and...  Please do not tell me that I have to quit Whiskey and Wine... And Please Please Please do not tell me I will have to deny myself the wonderful deliciousness of Beer Beer Beer...

Please do not tell me that I too will have to play the Making-Weight Game.

I have an awesome new training partner that has been fighting professionally for some time now.  Recently I asked her what she weighs and what weight she fights at as I am trying to figure out where I belong.  She tells me that she used to weigh 112-ish and fight 115 or lighter but now since she has added weights and strength training she walks about 117 and is planning on fighting 105 because girls are bigger now and making-weight.

105 pounds?!!!?!  If I fight at 105 I will be going toe-to-toe against women like you?!

Oct 16, 2010.     111.5 pounds.
Same Day Weigh-Ins for Grappling X.
Photo by Cassiano Laureano
I cannot help but wonder if my skeleton weighs more than 105 and what will be left of my itsybitsy boobies and how I could probably shed a pound of hair if I shave my head but my hair is the only exterior thing about me left that is still soft.

Most days I wake up in the world of 118 and making weight at 115 for me means that I have to add 5 mile runs and give up beer for a week, eat clean and light 4 days prior and then stop consuming food and beverages for 12 to 18 hours before weighing in.  I do all this because I cannot seem to trust my scale at home even though it has never failed me and so I end up weighing in light.  The thought of  not making weight is completely unacceptable to me for many reasons.

Fighting at 110 would not be an issue if I am willing to believe my bathroom scale.  Fighting at 105 would require being mindful of nutrition and adhering to a strict diet.  In my mind I see myself becoming a big headed skinny bodied alien looking fighting creature.  Which I suppose would be frightening to be locked in a cage with but is not necessarily the girl I want staring back at me when I glimpse into the mirror.  People tell me that I would have to lose muscle mass which is fine but already I do not lift weights or do specific strength training so I am not sure how I am to go about this.

I have a teammate that walks 160 and fights 135.  I have another teammate that walks 140 and fights 135.  Technically they are the same weight class but obviously the reality is that they are not.  Weight classes were introduced to even the playing field and make for fair competitive fights.  The intention is good but the outcome is athletes on extreme diets putting themselves through dehydration, eating disorders, dysmorphia etc.  I would rather not be one of them.

So Wait Wait Don't Tell me... That my weight class is 105 just yet... That I have to get skinnier and lighter just yet... That I have to change my eating and drinking ways just yet...

I still have an exciting Tuff-n-Uff 115lbs Title to Re-Match for in the near future!!!

June 30, 2011.     112.5 Pounds.
Tuff-N-Uff 115lbs Title Fight.  Day Before Weigh-Ins.
Photos by Christopher Tan

Monday, July 11, 2011

No Harm, No Foul...

...or No Blood, No Foul...

In a pick-up game of basketball or any other sport for that matter there are no referees so you have to make your own calls.  It is fairly normal to have a guy amongst the many to be known as a flopper... he'll call a foul on you for standing anywhere near him; if you touch him he'll fall and whine about injury; he's capable of more melodrama than a teenage girl in the throes of heartbreak.  I do not like that guy.  Nobody likes that guy. 

I take it to the extreme.  That is, I am the complete opposite of him... to my own detriment.  I would call my own fouls against others but I rarely called fouls that others committed on me.  Even the obvious ones.  I cannot fathom why.  I only know that I have always behaved this way and lately I have been wondering about it.
Photo by Joe Pic

On July 1st I fought for the 115lbs Tuff-n-Uff Title in Las Vegas.  In the 3rd round my opponent was deducted a point for headbutting.  The fight ended in a draw.  She had been warned throughout the fight to stop.  This is not a question of incident or accident.  I prefer to not be cynical about this.  I prefer to give her the benefit of the doubt as I do with most people about general life occurrences.  I prefer to not assume malicious intentions.  And ultimately it is simple, as coaches say over and over again: we fight how we are trained to fight.

The questions for me have to do with why I have to reconcile for myself that a foul was called, a point deducted.  I wonder about how I have not changed.  Why do I still prefer to lose over calling Foul?  How absurd of me.  But yet those feelings are there.

I think about my many nephews and nieces.  I wonder what I have taught them.  Share.  Give.  Be considerate.  Play fair.  Sounds like good teachings.  But really what I say without saying is:  Share (so that other kids have more time with your toys than you do yourself);  Give (so that others have more than you have);  Be considerate (think of others before thinking of yourself);  Play fair (even when others are being unfair to you).

I do not know when I will get to play basketball again but I hope it happens in the near future.  I am going to practice calling foul when a foul occurs.  I am going to practice feeling okay about it.  Maybe I will get this chance with one of my nephews or nieces.  Maybe I will teach them by example that playing fair means being fair to yourself also.

Wednesday, June 1, 2011

theFighterIsGrateful...

It is BlackEyeWednesday again. Oddly amazing how I enjoy it so. Sparring with Coach Andrew is raising my game and teaching me about my physical resilience and strengthening my psychology at the same time.

Friday, May 27, 2011

theFighter wants to say that I will change my ways

Everything I do right is due to the amazing coaching that I am blessed to have.  Every mistake I make is my own.

It was brought to my attention recently that my coaches are human too.

What? Huh? Human?

Thank You Lucas Pires
I was being reminded that we are a Team.  It's not me against the world.  It's Us against Them, whoever "Them" are.  My victories are Our victories and so it goes that my defeats are Our defeats.  They invest an extraordinary amount of time and energy and emotion into my education and with their good hearts they hope and want for me to do well in my endeavors.  Who am I to not appreciate their passion for my success in fight?!

Thank You Marcelo Crudele
That being the way things are means that when I fall I need to allow them to feel and react to the disappointment in the same way that I want the freedom to be able to feel and react.  It seems a simple enough concept.

But theFighter forgets.  So theFighter wants to say that I will change my ways.

I am fortunate to have coaches that communicate with me. They are actually more mature about it all than I am. I tend to withdraw and sulk. This is part of my arrested development. They approach me and talk to me about things. Grown men behaving so admirably! How lucky I am to be in the presence of such fine people to inspire me as a fighter and a human being!

Thank You Andrew Hagar