Training Day 36

The head coach made the suggestion yesterday that I move from the intermediate section to the advanced section of the camp. I was flattered to the point where I immediately blurted out, “Yes! Sounds great.”

I’d been watching the fighters in the advanced section spar whenever I had the chance. Their combinations were crisp and well timed. Their footwork was sophisticated and every strike was planned well in advance. Though some of the fighters in the advanced section are brutal and sparring becomes another opportunity to knock someone out.

Yesterday, one of the advanced fighters, an amateur kickboxing champion from the United States, was sparring with a trainer. The trainer held nothing back and is infamous for putting the students into the corner and blasting them. He’s almost a head taller than the rest of the trainers at camp and is swollen with muscle. To supplement his already intimidating build, he’s adapted an I-don’t-give-a-shit swagger to accompany his wandering eye. Rumor has it his orbital was fractured in a fight and he didn’t bother to have his eye set properly.

During the sparring session, the student was faring well and landed a powerful combination. The trainer responded by hitting harder and throwing unprotected elbows and knees at the student. It looked like this fight was about to break into a fight.

I turned back to my own training and was unable to continue watching as the scuffle escalated. I later saw the American kickboxer with a bruised forehead ad swollen left eye.

It’s clear that I’m not yet ready for advanced Muay Thai. My technique is relatively sound and I have a few helpful natural attributes but I’m always on the verge of falling apart when I spar.

I was told I would have to develop a taste for being hit in the face, to meet every blow with my chin down and press forward like an emaciated bulldozer. But all I’m learning is how interconnected everything in my face is.

I was caught with a punch while my mouth was open and my lower jaw snapped back. I immediately felt like I had an ear infection. A few days later, a solid left hook left me unable to blow my nose without feeling like my right eye globe was going to pop. The pain is nothing that I’m unable to press through but it’s the multitude of small pains covering my body that reminds me of my mortality, and the possibility of permanent injury. And the fear of injury will lead me to become injured.

Though, the training is going well. I just need to think tougher.