Instructor Rigel's Second Installment Of His Blog From Thailand

Thus begins the second installment of my journal. Though it starts with a day, THIS day, Monday May 28, that has been punctuated by a series of firsts. Some good, some bad, some indifferent. Let's start withthe FIRST first, which is decidedly bad. I missed morning training today for the first time. "Sleeping in?" you might ask. "Too sore?" you may conjecture. "Lazy bastarrd!" some might say... HEY, HEY, enough. I was awake enough to be sure. And truly, my neck and back fel almost 75%! No, it was my first bout of "ahahn mai aoi" or food sickness. SO I lay clutching my stomach for the duration of most of training, curled up on my cot listening to the others crack pads and bag. I DID get my sprints in though, yeah? About a dozen, straight to the "hong nam" - yes that's "toilet". This allowed me to realize another hidden benefit of the camp. Guess it takes spending so much time in the toilet to realize this but those small tile and concrete cubicles, and they sould really put this in the brocure, THEY'RE A SAUNA! So how does this happen? I'm food and travel savvy, yeah? It's not that I ate anything unusual or of suspect origin. Always careful with what I drink. Thing is we drink from a communal water bucket during training. It's filtered, clean water but only say half a dozen cups for 2 dozen fighters plus trainers. You make sure you give water to your Kru, to other fighters, etc. You dip the cup in water by hand and pass it around. These things happen. No big deal. Builds the immune system. I shouldn't complain. Sweating out the sickness is a fast remedy. Beyond that I walk back through the camp to see a teen-age fighter, let's call hm Peach, don an entire sauna suit to go running in Bangkok! This after 30 minutes heavy rope. Seems he has trouble making weight and is fighting at Ratcha tomorrow night. Check weatherchannel.com to get a sense of how brutal this must be. And the kid is lean and ripped. Such is the way here. I flushed my system with water all day and opted to skip breakfast. Slept a bit and by 3 o'clock felt ok to train. Still a bit of stomach trouble but I got through it. Of course, never show it. Once the kids could see my discomfort it was line-up and hit the Irishman in the belly like a damn carnival booth without the prizes. Should've charged them a fee. Then, after each hit, "Jep mai?" DOes it hurt? To which I respond without puking through a forced grimace, "MAi jep." Doesn't hurt. Another first is that, Watcharachai, one of the most amazing fighters ever produced by Kaewsamrit, trained with us today. Anuwat is not their only champion. Watcharachai, get this, went undefeated HERE IN THAILAND from 2000-2003 in Stadium fights! It's almost unprecedented. He's the nices t guy too. There were about 4 other new Thai fighters at the camp today so I'm glad I didn't miss second session. There was a lot of good energy. Training wound down and as I'm showering comes another first (get your mind out of the gutter). The Big Rain. It's rainy season where I'm living and there's been a bit of drizzle and small downpours routinely. Even saw a rainbow yesterday(no Candice, no Leprechaun to chase - guess my peeps are on strike here). This was a different animal. Full-on Monsoon crush that lasted 2 hours and flash flooded everything. Had to move all the shoes from the camp entrance to keep them from floating away. Thunder. Lightning. Awesome. I love a good storm. "A real pisser," as my Grandfar would say. Then while the storm subsides I get a knock on my door around 7pm. "Gin Kao!" - GO eat! What?! Second meal DOES exist. I'm not sure if this i a direct result of the storm since they knew we weren't going anywhere, but I'm grateful. It was wonderful and timely since training through stomach sickness had me feeling weak. We're talking mixed sauteed vegetables w/glass noodle, a spicy red-brown completely Bangkok style dry curry w/pork and bitter young pepper, and one ofmy favorite fighter's foods, "kai gao mai sook" which loosely translates to "stuffed omelette, not fully cooked". SO good. While eating dinner I get to talking to the Mongolians, one has excellent English and seems to be more like their manager as he doesn't train and he always speaks for them. They've been here a month but have to fly back home this weekend. Then one is to fly back here in August to fight in Queen's Birthday! That's awesome and a big honor. They ask how old I am and can't believe I'm 30... Ok I told them my real age but they thought I was like 27. Cool. If they were Brits I'd say they were just being polite but hey, these are HUNS. They kep it real. So they ask my fight weight and I ask about the kid fighting Queen's BDay. 70 kilos. Listen, he's a nice kid. Fit. Trains hard. And one thing these guys pride hemselves on is toughness. Show no pain. But I'm not blowing smoke when I say I'd put Justin in with him in a heartbeat. No bullshit. They've a couple heavier kids too. 76/78 k and 82+k. The 82K kid is all muscle. But if they matched with Matt and Aaron. I bet our guys hands down. I'm amazed and so proud that out of these gyms in Philly and Jersey we've built a camp with fighters capable of competing with anyone in the world. It blows my mind and makes me feel happy and accomplished. Captain's log. Tuesday, May 29, 2550. Wait, you didn't know that? Oh yeah, it's th year 2550 here. I've time traveled more than you thought. Catch-up. Ok enough of that. I trained both sessions today and fel good. German kid, MArtin, showed up to stay and train atthe camp today. I think I'll be ok to clinch again by tomorrow. The bad-arse Laos kid, Prap, is fighting Sunday at Ratcha. Prap is his nickname, though he's on the website under his fightname which is completely different. If you google Kaewsamrit Gym you'll find it. You can see pix of my trainers and camp brothers. JuanMario is he Spaniard(also fighting Sunday), Phillip fr/ London. Probably a lot better to check this out than wait for my pix upon return, because though I can write a bit, I'm the worst kind of photojournalist. I'll come back with rolls of film dedicated to things that caught my interest at the time. Like pix of the camp dog, Loki, a 200lb Mastiff. He starts his bark as if starting the prop on a WWI bi-plane. Hilarious. Five minutes till he really gets it going then it's unstoppable, all hours of the night. I'll have pix of random Wooden Indians (a personal fave) or just other seemingly unconnected thingsthat I find amusing at the time. The Wats (temples) where I go to pray and meditate are amazing beyond description, but I feel uncomfortable photographing them as I'm no tourist there. I don't like taking too many shots at the camp either as I'm training and working to be up in it, not looking from a distance. I usually relent a bit near the end and rush a few shots of the peeps that matter. Oh, before I forget again. One other thing that makes me smile daily: I haven't bought equipment yet. I brought Mexican gauze and tape for my hands and two pair of shorts. I've been using camp gloves, yeah? But guess which brand? Give up because you'll not guess this. They're red w/white backhand and knuckles like an Olympic style. 10 oz. Velcro. Good enough for now. But I shit you not, where it might be labeled, Windy or Twins, etc. It reads... The Insane... CHARLIE... MADE IN HELL. What's that? I so want to keep them. Ah, this place. Wednesday. Today was a good day. I still didn't run but trained harder than ever on pads. I'm concentrating on each hit being as hard and as solid as I can deliver. I'm still resting between combos but it seems to bethe way here. I notice even the top fighters hit the entire round as a series of sprint and rest. You go go go - non-stop through say: jab, hook-cross, lead kick, lead kick, rear vertical elbow, lead horizontal elbow, rear striking elbow, hook-cross, rear kick, shin block, rear kick, rear knee with cross grab, rear kick - BREAK. And so it goes. Was so tempted to clinch, but I think I'd be wise to wait a bit. It's hard because they ask everyday and I don't want to lose face. I'm having trouble explaining the difference between pain and actual injury. Don't wantthem to think I'm just a punk. Paid camp rent today and sprang for my own handwraps. I had to get them. They're like a green tartan pattern. Then second session began an hour eraly at 2pm. Though no one informed me so I literally ran downstairs in my underwear when I heard the bell, 'cause ny shorts were still hanging to dry. The reason for the early start was two kid fighting at Ratcha tonight, Peach the sauna suit boy and another kid I haven't seen much. I'm going to go Sunday instead to see the Prap fight. SO I got to spar full-on today! I don't mean full intensity, just full sparring - not just clinch. Three rds with Kat, same tall kid who cranked my neck. It was good. Everyone was saying, "farang soi muaythai" - beautiful muaythai. I swept him repeatedly and could punch him at will. He's southpaw so I when he jabbed I rolled my lead hook right over top his reach. Strange thing though. Rd 2 we clinch up, exchange knees, but as I step back he's pointing to my eye. Now I know I didn't take an elbow or a punch for that matter. Sure enough, I'm cut. Turns out ( I didn't even notice till now) he's wearing thumbless bag gloves to spar. Punching too! Anyway his thumbnail cut my right eye a bit. "mai bpen rai" - No big deal. He didn't mean it but at least they yell at him to put on sensible gloves. The two Mongolians who've been away for the weekend returned today. They had fights in Ko Samui. The Aaron built one has 9 new stitches across his left eyebrow for his trouble but won by KO in Rd 2 with punches. The chubby, older one who is Matt's weightlost decision but looks no worse forthe wear. Gotta get you guys here. The Huns could not hang with Cool Hearts. Thursday passes pretty uneventfully save forthe fact that I apparently busted up my foot sparring Wednesday and so now can't skip, can't kick, and can't move that well on it. I actually spent a sleepless night worried I broke a bone and would be sitting out which would REALLY upset me as I'm here for this reason: to train. Though it's badly swollen it's healing. Also I boxed the German kid today. He says he lived and trained two years in Rawai and Phuket before coming here. He's younger and much fitter than me, about 2 inches taller maybe 76-78K. We did two 5 minute rds and he quit. He couldn't hit me unless I let him and I just punched him with everything. Listen, I've come to terms that I won't be top fighter at this camp, but I can't handle not being top farang. SO if you come, you gotta spar. Especially if you've trained 2 years here! Friday June 1: Morning session pretty standard. I'm just working punches, elbows, knees now because my foot is still swollen and difficult to move let alone hit. Really concentrating on hard hands though. I got the most sleep yet between sessions. After breakfast I hit the Internet for about 90 minutes. Walked back to camp and read a chapter in, A Dirty Job, by Christopher Moore. Then fell fast asleep despite the 96 degree temps and 89% hunidity. It was the type of sleep that had me believing I missed training entirely, it was that deep. When I awoke and checked the time on my IPOD it was only 2! Stil had an hour. Weird. Foot pain prevented me from skipping again so I warmed up with 30 minutes shadowboxing. Definitely the most productive training yet. I hit 3 rds Thai pads and one long rd focus mitts straight through. Bag work. Then the most strength training I've done here. Afterward when they asked me to clinch, I decided it would be ok today. Hope my neck agrees with me tomorrow. I worked with the thick older fighter who came back this week. He's damn strong but I did well. The kids were giving me thumbs up and telling me to knee him harder since he manhandles everyone in the clinch including Anuwat. He threw me pretty good a few times right away but I learned to bear down and not take any chances with him. I hit him with a lot of knees and held on to find openings. I moved and turned him ok, but could NOT throw him for three rds. It was great fun and I seem to be gaining ground with my fitness and that's key just now. Woke at 6am but still didn't run. I've decided to start this coming week, devil may care. My back and shoulders are really tight but not injured. So far so good. I spent a good 30 minutes warming up and (yes, Junior) stretching. Hit 4 rds of pads, hard and straight through. Felt I could've done another but instead worked bag with special intensity. Not a spectacular session, but good. I've been training ten days at this point and still doing minimal work compared to when I was competing. I'm probably still sweating barley and bacon grease atthis point, y'know? Not easing into training after a long lay off is a key contributor to burn out. So I'm patient. You can learn a lot just by watching and emulating. 90% of success is just showing up. After a bit of rest following breakfast I'm up again at 2. Shadowed a straight 30 minutes then right to pads again. REALLY tight in my mid back now. In a good way. Like I can feel the neglected muscles kicking off the cobwebs and waking up. I feel strong already. Another good but not particularly memorable training - oh, save for the fact that Kru Den had me sailing in flying elbows and knees for the first time. Must look like a Macy's Parade float to these guys as I launch myself through the air! He's been telling me I have good strong knees though. Again, the day to day stuff here is as important or at least as noteworthy say as the training. See, I brought hair clippers with me but even though I have a working adapter - no dice. They're blown. Suffice it to say that after eleven days here with no manscaping (Jackson you know where I'm coming from, pretty boy) I'm a hairy beast. So today the Thais took to pulling my chest hair out whenever possible in the clinch. Ha! THAT'S FUNNY! As close to the nipple as possible? Yeah, cool! Excellent. Thank you! After training it was straight to the shower barrels and razor in hand I attackedarms, chest, face. Much better. I hadn't much though about it but the much less hirsute Asians will find anything to dig on, as if my belly weren't enough. This works great in reverse too.Nothing seems to piss them off more in the clinch then a nice 2 day stubble. Sorry, man. HA! After all the grooming and such it was again time to hit the Internet for some correspondence (not much going on here but training, get it). Then dinnertime. Now the food at the camp is great but sometimes you just need a change, to venture out, a little something different. I found this little cafe/restaurant/karaoke bar last week. I like to call it "Georgio's" as the green neon sign in Thai characters looks pretty damn close. I hit that up for dinner and MAN! The spiciest hell-fire spitting meal I've had since coming back. Awesome. Yeah I speak enough Thai to get by but I don't read a character really. So the menu is pictures and Thai characters. I point and we're good. Then I ask for a side of rice and "nam pla prik" fich sauce with chilis. Waiter brings a massive plate of fried beef w/garlic. Peanuts. Cilantro. Scallions. Fresh sliced ginger. All these sides are raw which is standard. Also a plateful of "bird dung" chilis. Of course I couldn't resist. I ate almost all the peppers. Everything wasso full of flavor but halfway through I lose the ability to speak. Ever spend time sled riding let's say, in weather so cold your face goes numb? Now your lips bounce together uselessly in attempted speech? Yeah, like that only from a relentless and self-inflicted abundance of pepper oil. Probably looked like a Looney Tunes character. Swollen lips. Sweating. Red in the face. Ear wax melting. Tears clouding my eyes. Nose running. Beautiful! I needed that. SO refreshing in hot weather. Tomorrow(Sunday) two camp kids will be fighitng at Ratcha Stadium. The phenom Laos kid and a Spaniard training here named Juan Mario. I plan to go watch then meet up afterward with Casey in the evening. She'll be on her way back from a Visa run to Cambodia extending her sty so she can fight on the 14th at Theprasit Stadium in Pattaya. So wish her luck and think good thoughts that day (12 hours in advance). I got emails from Candice and Matt informing me that Danika kicked arse and fought well, and LISTENED to her corner! I'm so glad but honestley, expected no less. Congrats to her and to Justin and MAtt and everyone that helped prepare her. Thanks to everyone who helped in anyway, traininig, or support, going to watch etc. It all matters. Camp is an extended family and it takes everyone to make it work. Thanks also to Brad for allowing me this rather extended trip and for holding it all together in my absence. There's a lot of behind the scenes work that he does that keeps things flowing seemlessly. Ok, enough sappiness, too early here for all that. I love it here, yes, but though it's only been eleven days I DO miss being a trainer too. It's in my nature. I've always been a bit of a gypsy so it's easy for me to travel. I don't wanto to focus on the things I miss because I'm really ableto tune them out. I've developed an amazing capacity to ignore. But let's just say: BEER, chocolate(yes I LOVE chocolate, sorry - or how bout kill two birds with one stone - a chocolate stout! - Viking Twins you're with me here, yeah?) peanut butter, and of course the OTHER thing. (CAndice I miss you the world -and you're in trouble when I return!) Actually it's kind of cool not eating junk. No cheese, no dairy at all really, nothing deep fried, no bread, minimal sugar. Though I must tell you the Thai's are evil geniuses when it comes to confectionary deviousness. Gotta stay strong. Next wek I'll let you know how the fighters here make out at Ratch. Everyone train hard and be readyfor my return. ANd when you see Candice, tell her she's the ONE. For Me I mean. She's the one for ME... You know what I mean. Prologue: Tuesday evening, Mark, the Aussie comes up to me during training, "Hey you allright, mate? You've got that look. I've played enough Aussie rules and I know that look." He's a good guy so I don't blow him off. I explain that I could just kick myself for getting so out of shape. My technique is good enough to fight forthis amazing camp but my conditioning is in the tank and my weight is a joke. "How old're ya mate?" he asks. I tell him the truth. "Ah easy there young man. I'm 39 and training for my first fight. I just took it up last year," he says. So we index our extensive laundry list of injuries. He's much smaller than me and played Aussie rules football his whole life, which can take its toll. I never would've guessed he's older than me, though. In great shape. "The main thing is you're here now," Mark continues. And I know he's right. It's advice I'd give but I've always been my own worst patient, yeah? "Focus on that, " he goes on "you're training now. You made the choice. It can only really get better now , mate." It's good advice and goodto hear. I AM here now. I AM training. That's al that matters. The past is just that, past. Always moving forward. Never going back, Rigel