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muaybueno-blog · 8 years ago

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Thoughts on Losing

So, I’m an amateur Muay Thai fighter, who has just had his fourth fight on Saturday (Feb.18th). I went into the fight with a 2-1 record. I came out with a 2-2 record. I’ve learned a ton from this experience, and I just thought I would write down my overall thoughts with myself, and just what I’ve learned walking away from the fight. I also want to do it now, when it’s fresh in my mind.

I started Muay Thai when I was 14, and I have been doing it for 3 years now. From the first day I walked into my club, I have absolutely loved this sport. Every weekend, if there’s some fight card, be it MMA, kickboxing, or Muay Thai, you can bet your ass I’m always watching it. I know so many different fighters, and I enjoy seeing them fight, to overcome adversity against all odds. To see that live is absolutely awesome, and inspiring. I love doing the techniques, I love seeing my progress in the sport, and I really do train hard so I can become better at it. There’s only one problem, and it’s quite significant. I’m too nice. No, I’m not saying that to virtue-signal, or whatever, I’m just repeating what my family says about me. I hate seeing other people hurt, I’m not a big advocate for violence, I do my best to boost others up, and I can barely watch some sort of fucked up gore you might stumble across when browsing forums and such. So of course, I fell in love with a sport that involves you trying to knock someones jaw off their skull, with your choice of a punch, kick, elbow and knee. Yes, very intelligent of me, I know.

But, from what I’ve learned about myself in my short time competing, I’ve learned a couple things about me. First, I’m a super hard worker. I’m always either at my gym working drills, techniques, doing pads, hitting the bag, etc, and when I’m not, and I do not have any significant schoolwork that needs to be completed, I’m running, biking, and doing weights. Second, I’m pretty tough. I know, that sounds a bit douchey, but I’m trying to say it in the most objective way I can. In my short time fighting, I’ve been hit a fair amount of times, specifically in my cranial region, and I’ve been fortunate enough to never hit the canvas. Now, I’m not Superman or something, I’ve for sure had my bell rung, and this sure as hell wasn’t my first time feeling the shitty feelings of a loss.

My second fight came at a tournament, where I came into it with one win. My club is one that has produced multiple world champions, current, and previous, and even though I only had one fight prior, I was a pretty big favourite to win. Hell, everyone expected me to win. I was really hoping I would walk away having won in my weight division, but I had the misfortune of fighting a super good boxer in the first round. I have really good kicks, probably stemming from my time in karate when I was a kid, but my boxing, and my clinching were by far my weaker aspects in Muay Thai. I tried to come out super strong, and pressure the guy as quickly as I could, but before I could think “what the hell?”, my head was getting rattled around like a fucking bobble-head. The dude was a really good boxer. He was long, lanky, and knew his combinations well. That was the first time I had my bell rung, and as anyone who has had similar experiences probably know, this usually leads to bad times happening. It was a while ago, so my memory is pretty hazy, but from all that I could remember, in my panic, and confusion, I tried to slug it out with the guy. Needless to explain, doing so with a person skilled with their hands is a terrible idea. The round ended, and I walked back into my corner. From that, all I recall is my corner screaming my name, and asking me “what the hell I was doing”. Somehow a minute already passed, and I was already off my stool, going back into a losing fight. It ended up going the same route as the first round, and so did the third. My nose started bleeding in the first, and it didn’t stop until the end of the fight, and my opponent’s gloves were completely covered in my own blood by the end of it, as if to add insult to injury. I walked back into my corner, and my coach could only look at me with clear frustration in his face, and say bluntly, “You lost”. It was absolutely crushing. I hugged it out with the dude after the fight, congratulated him, trying to be a good sport about it and all, and went into my hotel room, and I absolutely bawled my eyes out for a good 15 minutes at least. Not my most dignified moment, I have to admit. I also discovered that I really hate losing.

But, from anyone who has lost, they will tell you that they come from the experience learning so much. I sure as hell did. I got back into the gym on Monday, frustrated with my performance, and wanting to get better as soon as possible. My boxing got better. My clinching got passable. I have never considered myself a quitter, and I got so much better after that. That’s a characteristic I cherish about myself, and I’m glad I have that kind of attitude. My next fight, I came back with another win, coming from a head kick in the first round. I was really proud of myself for that one. I thought to myself, “Now that I’ve gotten beaten up, I finally know what I have to do! I’ve got this shit figured out! Win-streak, here I come!”. I’m pretty naive too, if you couldn’t tell. Now let me go back to talking about my personality for a second, so I can give some background into my next fight.

Like I said, I’m too nice. With this unfortunate choice in personality, that comes with some serious repercussions, and hinderances when competing in such a sport. I hold back when I’m sparring against someone less skilled, strong, or experienced than me, to the point where I hardly even try, in fears of me accidentally harming them. This also translates to having a ton of respect for people who are better than me, especially pros, and other accomplished fighters in my gym. This means that when I spar with them, I do something similar, I go light, because I’m afraid of pissing them off, or having them come back to absolutely kick my ass. With those two options out, to only people I can have a good sparring session with, are people who have a similar amount of experience as me, which in my gym, is very few, and far between. I live in Canada, in an area where Muay Thai and Kickboxing is super rare, and it’s not really possible to get a frequent amount of fights in my area. This means opportunities to fight, also come few and far between. I’m sure you can connect the dots here. Me not seriously sparring a ton + not a ton of opportunities to fight = not a whole lot of experience, or learning. I kick myself in the ass for not realizing this sooner, because it’s one of those things that, when you look back at it in retrospect, you would say, “no shit Sherlock”, yet you were dumb enough to not understand it at all. I hope I am making sense here.

I always kept in shape, but I was not really getting better in terms of my abilities in the ring. When I had a fight scheduled in December, I was so incredibly excited that I was finally going to fight again, after nearly going a 9 months without a fight. I was gonna fight against a boxer, and it was going to be the weekend before the holidays, I was super pumped, and ready to redeem my previous shit-show with a similar opponent. But then, my opponent pulled out a day before. I was really disappointed, and I wanted to get another fight as soon as possible. The only thing my coach had on the docket was a fight at a weight-class that it higher than what I usually fight at. I’m not using this as an excuse to make my loss seem less harsh, and more passable, I just want you guys to realize how much I wanted to get back in the ring. Again, with a good boxer, but this time was with K-1 rules, which was perfectly fine by me.

The weight-cut was extremely easy, with me actually showing up 3-lbs underweight, without me having to dehydrate at all. I got a good look at my opponent in his underwear, and noticed there definitely was a bit of a size-advantage for him. He was taller, and a bit more thicker than me. “Whatever I guess”, I thought. “I guess it doesn’t really matter. I just can’t stand with the guy this time, I have to kick! That’s how I’ve always won, it’s simple, I just can’t get caught, or screw up!” We shook hands, and I saw that he was a super nice guy, and I sensed no hostility towards me at all. From there, we wished each other farewell, had a nice meal back home with my family, and I went to bed feeling great. I was also the first fight of the card so I didn’t have to sit there and get really nervous. “I’ve trained hard, and now it’s time. Win, or lose, I know I won’t embarrass myself!” I got wrapped, and gloved up, my corners warmed me up, and I felt really good. My coach quickly took me aside, and looked at me dead serious. “Just so you know, you’re in for a slug-fest. He’s gonna hit hard. You need to survive the first round.” I felt a small part of my optimistic self die inside when I heard that. I thought I had long since gotten past the feeling of fear when stepping into the ring, but yet, there it was, slowly creeping it’s way into my consciousness. He walked out first, and he jumped over the ropes, and I saw him working his hands. “Wow, he does look like a pretty good boxer.” I walked out next, heard my family screaming my name, and when the announcer had finished our introductions, it was about time to fight.

I stared him down, but I wasn’t focused on him at all. Instead, I was thinking about my coaches words. “You’re in for a slug-fest”. Well fuck me, I have to teep him away as soon as he gets close, or he’s gonna box me up! That way I can at least take away some of his gas. The ref said it was time to fight, and I remember expecting him to come charging at me. Instead he slowly walked his way towards me, taking his time. This took me off a bit, and my plans to stick a teep in him took a detour. He stopped a bit in front of me, and it felt like it was just 5 seconds of us just measuring each other up. My brain finally started to work, I thought “Teep him damnit!” but before my brain could send that signal he picked up his lead leg, and sent a front kick at my chin. It didn’t land clean, but again, I was taken aback. “What the hell, isn’t this guy supposed to be a boxer or something?” He sent a jab and a cross followed at my face. I wasn’t hurt, but flustered a bit at my hesitance. “What the fuck man, you have to start first! When he punches, low-kick him!” “start first” “when he punches”. These things do not go together. He then low-kicked me. I made sure he payed for it with a left hook, which made him stagger a bit, but he immediately responded with a combination of his own, and he followed me with a low-kick. I saw two sides of the rope to the left and right of my peripheral vision. It hit me that he was backing me up in the corner. I clinched him to take some momentum off of him, and he sent a knee towards me, which didn’t hurt, but even if I hadn’t been hurt once this whole small encounter, and I had hurt him with the one hook I threw, it was clear who was winning on points alone. Since it was K-1 rules, only one knee is allowed before they break you up, and the ref did just that.

I haven’t watched my fight tape yet, which was thankfully recorded by one of my friends, but I didn’t remember anything of significance from this round. For some reason, nearly every time I threw a left hook, it landed, and I guess my sub-conscience kicked in, and I kept throwing it. I was hitting him, and they were some hard shots, but he was landing back more in bunches. At the end of the round, he sent a jab in my face. The bell sounded, and the ref stepped in. We touched gloves, and I saw that his were covered in blood. He sure as hell wasn’t bleeding, so it had to be mine. I had a brief flashback to my last experience with a good boxer. “Well shit.” I thought. Sorry if I’m being vague but for those who haven’t fought, all the adrenaline, and heat of the moment makes you forget certain things. I recall my corner telling me that I had lost the round, and I wasn’t in any position to argue. My coach told me something about me backing up every time I hit. “Huh? I was doing that?”. I did my best to listen to what they had to say. An accomplished amateur fighter from my club was also in my corner. “Every time you throw that left hook, it hits him, but you gotta start following it up! Throw a cross down the pipe!” My coach then sternly told me that I had to win the next two rounds to win. “Guess I’m doing better than the first time I fought a boxer. At least I survived the first round, he should start slowing down now.” I went out, not feeling gassed at all, which I thought was a good sign, and with another touch of gloves, we resumed.

Again, just from memory alone, I don’t remember a whole lot from this round. All I know, is that I assume it was a bit closer, as I was starting to back him up, but he kept up his volume, and even punched into his kicks. I blocked all the ones aimed at my head, only letting one hit my body, which didn’t hurt. I was hitting him with my left hook, but again, it was clear who was winning. I was single-shooting, and even though he wasn’t hurting me, he was clearly throwing more strikes than me. The most embarrassing moment of the whole fight was when he threw a spinning back kick at me, which I blocked, but then I thought, “This is what I’m supposed to be doing, not him!” I had even planned to throw a back-kick leading into the fight. Here I was, a kicker, being out-kicked by a boxer. I noticed he was breathing a bit heavy. I didn’t want to rush in and get boxed up like the last time I lost, so I decided to take my time and slowly try to work my way in to land some kicks, and punches to his body. I think I landed only one body kick, and a couple low kicks this round. When I kicked his legs, he didn’t even flinch. “I’m not throwing hard enough”.

This, I do not blame on my lack of cardio or training, but what I do blame it on, was my lack of authority when sparring in preparation for this fight. Whenever I kicked someones legs in sparring, that’s exactly how I would kick. Whenever I would hit the bag, I would only do one or two-punch combinations. Now I was only using my left hook. Like I mentioned before, looking back on it, it seems obvious as to what me training like this would lead too, but I didn’t think about that. And now I was paying the price for it. The bell rang, and went back to my corner. My coach was pretty frustrated at me, saying I was “being too nice”, and that I was still backing away every time I hit. He then told me I had to knock him down this round to win. For some reason I thought there might’ve been some hope that the judges could’ve seen the round going my way. Jesus, what was I thinking?

Again, this round, I don’t remember any significant exchanges, apart from my left hook now sending him staggering back a bit more, and he was now backing up more as well. He was gassing, and I could see it. I just didn’t act on it. I didn’t try to punch into kick, or teep his body, I didn’t think about kicking him at all, which is my specialty. I remember once having an awkward exchange with him where I tried to send a right straight to his body, but he sort of doubled-over, which I’m not sure if it was because he was gassed, or if I had him hurt, either way, it ended up with him sending a few free-knees my way, which again didn’t hurt me, but they for sure landed, and the judges saw that. Now I knew he was tired, because he really started to back up. I kept after him, not feeling gassed at all. But again, I just didn’t act on it. I saw he was tired, and I knew for sure he was, and yet, there I was, slowly plotting forward, not doing a whole lot. I think he did start to slightly crack a bit under my pressure, and he made a last ditch effort to knock me out with a jumping spin-kick my my chin, which I avoided pretty easily. He also once tried to kick my head, and I leaned out of the way, causing him to fall over. Looking back, these were clear as day signs he was tired, but I didn’t notice them at all. I also remember him once kneeing me in some sort of exchange, and he hit me in the cup. I was low on time, but yet, even though I didn’t get hurt I took a second to call a time, and re-adjust it, which was incredibly stupid looking back, because it gave him a second to breathe. I heard his corner yell out “How much do you want it man?!” Hell, even THEY saw he was tired. I heard the 10-second blocks, and before I knew it, they were up, and the fight was over.

We hugged, I went to his corner, thanked them, and returned back to my corner. Again, another flashback to my first loss happened, when my coach wore that same familiar look of frustration, and again, as blunt as Mjolnir, he said “You lost.” To make it even worse he added, “You didn’t do anything, and you didn’t listen to a word we said.” Ouch. I didn’t feel too good after that. Listening to my corner is always a bit of a problem with me, I had honestly thought I had gotten past that, and I was much more experienced, but obviously not. “I know.”, I replied back, and I was surprised at how nonchalant it came out. A small bit of hope resonated with me still, “Maybe the judges will see it your way, the second round was a bit close, and maybe the judges will see how tired he was at the end of the fight?”. Not sure why I thought that, but I guess I really didn’t want to give up hope. Of course, he won. We thanked each other, we saw the ring-side doctor, we talked for a bit, and we went along our merry way. I was really disappointed in myself. My family, and friends were all there, trying to cheer me up, and I tried to enjoy watching the other fights, but it was no use. This lose was easier to take than the last one, but still, it sucked pretty bad. I went back into the change-room after a while, which was luckily empty, so I could sulk around on my phone, and eat some snacks I prepared earlier.

I felt like I hadn’t shown what I was capable of. My coach was right, I didn’t do anything. I backed up, I single-shot, and I didn’t use what I was good at. I was fit, I was prepared, and I didn’t gas, but my biggest fault was how I trained. Sitting in that change-room, I realized that I fought exactly how I sparred. With no authority. He was an opponent that was better than me, and I respected him too much, and I fought like how I spar with all the accomplished people in my gym. Reflecting on how I felt, and what i thought going into the fight, I recognized that he came in to win. He came with no hesitation, and took what was his, while I hesitated. I didn’t kick, I let him off the hook too many times, and I backed up. Of course I wanted to win, but I didn’t prepare like I wanted to win, I prepared like I just only wanted to compete. I felt angry, not at my corner, but at myself, I know how important sparring, was, yet, for months, I wasn’t sparring like how I was supposed to. I went too light, I was too lax, and it showed in my fight. When I do punch-combinations, I only do two or three at the absolute most, and so when I fought, sure enough, I resorted to single-shooting. When I low kick others, I do it lightly so I don’t hurt them, and when I fought I didn’t kick like how I was supposed to, like how I KNOW I can do. Okay, I didn’t get beat up, or even worse, get knocked out, but still, there was a clear winner, and it was my opponent.

I eventually came out, watched a few other fights, and went back home. I had a talk with mother, I told her how disappointed I was, and how I was sorry I fought like that. I hugged her, I let out a few tears, and she said tons of supporting things, but the one that really made me reflect on myself was when she said “You’re too nice to be a fighter.” Was I too nice? Well then how the hell was I able to knock a guy out in my last fight, yet not be able to even low-kick this guy? Was I really not good for this sport? Why the hell do I love it so much though? Was I just setting myself up for disappointment down the road? Is all my training and hard work for absolutely nothing? Should I just quit now and save myself the trouble? All these things were going on in my head, and so much more. But I eventually came to a conclusion. I had to really consider what I needed to change in my training, and just what kind of attitude I needed, if I wanted to succeed.

Real talk here. I’m not some sort of source of infinite wisdom, but I do know in my short time living on planet earth, that losing sucks. No one likes losing. That comes natural to human beings, that we want to be better than the other person, and to come out on top. But here’s the thing, everyone losses. I know we have this perception that there are people that exist, who are just the perfect athlete, they have never lost in their respective sport, the obvious example being Floyd Mayweather Jr. Now here comes the magic word again; “but”. “But”, even Mayweather has lost before. “What are you talking about, he has a perfect professional record in boxing!” Well, yeah, in professional boxing. Have you seen his amateur record? Let me quote from his Wikipedia page. “Mayweather had an amateur record of 84–8”. Yup. Even Mayweather lost. Even if there are some people who claim to be perfect in a sport, they have failed outside the ring, or outside of competition, like in training.

That’s why I now realize its important to take all aspect of training seriously. Everything has it’s purpose, and nothing is just for shits and giggles. Sparring is important, because that’s when you can fail, and not have it matter. That’s why you should always make an effort to do the best you can when sparring. When you are working on the bag, work in those boxing combinations, because otherwise, when you fight, you will only be looking for one big punch, and etc, etc, etc. Here’s another news-flash, fighting is serious. There’s a quote I once saw, which I cannot find, but it basically goes something like this. “You don’t “play” Muay Thai”, or “You don’t “play” boxing”, you get the picture. It’s a bit of a crazy-ass sport, and if you really sit down and think about it, if you are a fighter, it seems a bit weird as to why you would do it. There’s a lot of risk for being hurt, there’s the whole brain trauma aspect behind it, and so much other bad shit that’s associated with competitive sports in general. Yet, we still do it. In our age of instant access to boundless information, which will tell you just how dangerous this shit is, we take the risk, and we just plunge in. That’s why, I now completely know why it’s important to take all aspects about this beautiful sport seriously. There’s no such thing as you being perfect from the very start. You can get hurt from so much, and there’s so many possibilities to lose, that it’s probably next to impossible to calculate. So yes, do some extra clinching if you have the time! Yes, you should be sparring more seriously! Yes, it’s probably a good idea to get into the habit of checking that fucking low-kick! Fuck up, and get better! Fuck ups are only bad if you make the same mistake twice!

I know it’s becoming redundant at this point, but again, isn’t it funny how when we look back, all this shit seems obvious? But, we don’t get it. We won’t get it until we fail, and we pick ourselves back up on our feet. Realistically, we should be failing every single day. That way, we can learn for the future, and slowly, but surely, we will see those victories. And once we do finally succeed in what we wish to accomplish, it will be all the more sweeter, once we look back at all the shit we have struggled through. Not many people can say they aren’t quitters. If you have that characteristic to get back up on your feet, no matter what has happened to you, take pride in that shit, don’t take your error in vain. You have to do your best to learn from it.

I’m typing this out, the day after I lost, and it is a bit painful to revisit that recent memory. I’m not proud of my performance, and I know deep in my heart I could have done better. I’m in no way, shape, or form talented, I never have been in anything, be it sports, academics, video games, absolutely nothing. But I know that I work hard, and I’m a stubborn son of a bitch. I want to do my best in whatever the hell I do, and I hate losing, no matter the circumstances. My father is the exact same as me. I appreciate my father endlessly, because he is almost the exact polar opposite of me in terms of overall personality. I’m a huge introvert, and he’s an excessive extrovert. He’s sort of like the yin to my yang, if you want a visual representation of that. He’s also a natural athlete, and knows a fuck-ton about every sport known to man. He also used to box, and although he never actually competed, he had to get into probably dozens of scraps living in Central Europe in the 70s. He and I both like fighting, and after my loss, he had to drop some truth bombs on me. He told me exactly what I did wrong. He was unapologetic, and it hurt a bit to hear him say some of the stuff he said. I knew he was right, and I was pissed off that he was right, because it was so obvious to hear him say it, because I knew it for so long. It took so long for me to finally fully understand, and see my fuck-ups. Sure, I was mad, and I couldn’t sleep after talking with him, but the next day, I appreciated him like I always do. It made me reflect on myself, and is part of the reason I am making this right now. As such, I have been able to fully look back on the my past experience, learn, and take the most I can out of it.

I realized that yeah, I’m a nice guy, but when I’m in the gym, and when I’m sparring, I have to be a different person. The me that goes to school, and talks with my parents, and loves anime and manga, and pizza and ice-cream, can’t be the same one who steps into the ring and fights. But for that side of me to show up, he needs to grow in my gym. I have to force him to come out of me, and hurt other people. I need him to get hit, and beat up, I need him to spar with people who are leagues better than me, I need him to learn hundred and thousands of lessons in the gym, and not in the ring where your mistakes matter. Not “next fight”, rather, “now”. I know that shit sounds really cringy, and needlessly edgy, but that’s honestly the best way I can accurate depict it in my imagination, like some sort of shit from Kingdom Hearts or some other Square Enix and Disney crossover where you need to fight a mini-boss of your character’s shadow, or some other magic bull-fuckery. Or was that from Ocarina of Time? Alright, who gives a fuck, I’m just trying to be funny here, and I’m not sure how effective it is when you read it. I had a good chuckle coming up with that, so I hope you liked it too.

I want to say something to all those who are either just starting out, and thinking of competing or who are already competing, but both are worried they are “too nice” for the sport. Listen. Well, imagine I’m talking, but just pay attention, and really soak up these next few sentences. I’m a complete nobody in this sport and in real-life, I understand that, I’m not stupid. I have no delusions of grandeur, and I know I still have a lot to learn. But here’s something that I know. You can be nice and still be a fighter. A successful one at that. Look at good old Georges St. Pierre, Canadian guy, he was UFC Welterweight Champion. Joe Rogan has mentioned him recently on his podcast, where he basically explains how you would never be able to tell that Georges is this world class fighter if you met him onto the street. He just seems like a genuinely friendly, and smart guy. But here’s the thing about Georges St. Pierre. He works hard. That much is obvious as hell. He likes to train, he enjoys competing, and when he does, he’s a damn class-act. He can do all that, and still be a nice guy, but the thing that people have to realize, is that like I mentioned before, you can’t be the same person in both aspects of your life. Some people are undoubtably born to fight, and are so naturally talented, it boggles my mind to see just what the hell they can do. Let Jon Jones be a good example. I know I am using a lot of MMA guys, but please bare with me, they are the most easy to remember. The dude goes out, parties, does drugs, drinks alcohol, and does all of this two weeks before he fights in a UFC main event, half an hour fight, and still kicks ass. That is unbelievable, yet he makes it happen. He’s a freak of nature. But not everyone is like that. You can still be a great, and exceptional fighter even without that talent in you. To get there, you need to learn a ton, and to get that, you need to be taught a lesson every single time you go into your club.

There’s a professional fighter in my club, who is also an undefeated MMA fighter who has finished all his fights via stoppage. This guy in my opinion is the best in his weight division in the whole world, and I know he can knock out anyone who stands in front of him. I am not entirely sure how good he was when he first started competing in amateur Muay Thai, but he once told me himself that he got his ass handed to him a lot back in the day when there were more professionals at our gym. He was an up-and-comer who wanted to get better, and so the other fighters gave him multiple lessons. Since he got his ass whooped a bunch of times, he now can fight whoever he wants, no problem. And you know what? He’s a really nice guy. Honestly, if you met him, you probably wouldn’t guess he’s a fighter. Aside from the fact that he ripped as ever living shit.

I have learned a lot from my loss, I really have. I hope that I have taken all that I could from it, and I hope I don’t screw up again. I disappointed myself, and probably my family members, but I won’t let that stop me from getting right back into the gym as soon as possible. Seriously, if you aren’t hurt after a fight, you should be back as soon as you can. If you have lost, then maybe take a couple days off if you are hurt, or a week if it’s super-serious, but come back, and be around at your gym. There is no shame in losing, there really isn’t. How you react to it matters. People will respect you so much more if they see you back training as soon as you can, trust me. If they give you shit for losing, then fuck them, they are A-class dicks. Just one step below S-Rank, and that’s when Nero does his guitar solo taunt. Okay, that was really specific, I won’t blame you if you don’t know where that’s from. If you don’t just don’t worry about it.

I’m still debating on whether or not I should post this somewhere, because I feel like I did, I can help someone else whose just coming off a loss, or is debating about their commitment to fighting. I really dunno. If I do, I’ll just make a new account, and avoid all the big social media sites that revolve around Muay Thai and MMA that I know some of the people at my gym use. I’m not letting them know my feelings and shit, fuck that lol If they ever figure out it’s me, I could just deny it, and plead ignorance, but still, that’s gonna be a bit of a risky situation. I tried keeping it as ambiguous as possible, but you never know I suppose.

Anyways, it’s like 1:20am right now, and I literally got only like 3 hours of sleep after my fight, so my quality of writing is getting pretty bad right now, and its probably gonna devolve into memes, and 4chan and stuff if I continue, so I’ll just end it off here I suppose. I also have eaten WAAAAAY too much after my fight, probably due to my stress-eating habit. I’m a fucking mess.

But yeah, if I do post this somewhere, I really hope it helps someone out. I love the shit out of Muay Thai, and Kickboxing, and I hope someone took something out of this long write-up of my experience in losing. If you want, tell me about your first loss, and how that went down. It’s all good man, no judgement here, just let it out famalam.

Okay, so I just decided to post it on Tumblr, and I made a new account specifically for this. I hope this doesn’t go too terrible. And no, I’m totally keeping all that extra bullshit, don’t tell me what to do. Yes my name is terrible. I’m keeping it.

#muay thai #kickboxing #losing #motivation #self-improvement #self-reflection #fighting #karate #shotokan #jiu-jitsu #mma #mixed martial arts #i feel like shit #feels

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