The Fight

Making of a Fighter

We all had our heroes when we were younger. Some of us chose Super Heroes, other’s looked up to law enforcement or firemen, and some of us wanted to be military heroes. My hero was Rocky Balboa. I remember jogging around my neighborhood in my sweat clothes and wearing a cross around my neck that was similar to the one Sylvester Stallone wore in ROCKY. I even went so far as to tell new friends that Sylvester was my uncle.

I always wanted to be a fighter, but I wasn’t exactly a right fit for the sport. First off, I was afraid of being hit, I only weighed 135 pounds as a senior in high school, and I was a four eyed geek. I didn’t fit the boxer mold at all, but I still loved the sport. I remember watching the greats: Ali, Foreman and of course no one will forget Mike Tyson. Those guys were all heroes by my definition.

It’s been years since those days. Boxers have come and gone, and sequels to the ROCKY saga have continued up to a couple of years ago. During that time, I have been through a lot of changes in my life. I served in the US Air Force for ten years, received a college degree in architectural engineering, got married, had three kids and even found Christ. The only sports I ever played were leisure ones. Backyard football was my favorite growing up, I power lifted in the military, played racquet ball occasionally, and I used to run a lot until my knees started hurting. I have never considered myself an athlete by any means. That all changed when a friend of mine invited me to go on a bike ride a couple of years ago. The ride was supposed to be ten miles out and ten miles back, I lasted about four miles. Not long after that, I entered into my first triathlon. The event was a six mile canoe, six mile run, eighth mile hill climb and eighteen mile bike ride. Let’s just say that I finished. I ride as much as I can now, on and off road, and enjoy the sport very much. But there was still something missing. Still a part of me waiting to be discovered.

It has been a year since I participated in a mission trip to Honduras. The guy who was leading us on the trip is an old school boxer and currently trains people in Muay Thai and kick boxing. We were introduced to some of the moves as part of our physical training to prepare us for the trip. I was immediately hooked, on the training that is. I approached our leader (Vinny) and asked him if I could continue training when we returned from Honduras. He gladly accepted. I jumped right into the training and it was no easy task. The physical part was not as challenging as the mental stuff. Trying to memorize all of the techniques is hard for someone who has never fought before. Just when things were finally starting to come to me, I had to back out. Financial reasons required me to make some changes and paying for Muay Thai lessons didn’t fit into the plan. I still continue to train and practice everything that I have learned in my basement and at the gym, but there is no advancement. I feel like I failed as a fighter. The thing is, I had yet to realize what my real fight would be . . .