One of the things I was least looking forward to for my first MMA fight was cutting weight. I had only seen and heard of this torturous part of fight camp, but never had to experience it myself. The day I was offered the fight at 155lbs I stepped on the scale after the gym and said to myself, “holy shit!” I was 178lbs that’s 23lbs to lose in 8 weeks! I immediately put myself on a diet, no soda, no junk food, and no sex. The no sex part was a breeze, 2 months without sex came almost naturally to me, the diet was tough.
I was still able to eat good food, but the closer to the fight, the more liquid meals I had and no food after 7pm. The worse part is that I work at a BBQ restaurant and I spent my days staring at food I couldn’t eat. About 2 weeks out from the fight I started to get a little angry. When people around me said they were hungry, I wanted to grab them and say, “YOU HAVE NO F’N CLUE!!!!” None of my clothes fit me anymore and I swear my nipples grew a half inch, but I keep at it.
I was able to get myself to 158lbs the day before weigh ins so didn’t have to do a sauna session or anything like that, but I was thirsty as shit. My mouth felt like it had sand in it and all I could do was swish some water in my mouth. The day of the weigh-ins was the worst. I was thirsty, hungry, and looked like someone deflated my face. My shorts were hanging off my ass and my hamburger and french fry underwear was a little big. I didn’t want to talk to anyone or even look at anyone with a drink in their hand. Plan and simple, it fucking sucked; but I stepped on that scale at 154.5 with my shades on! After that I left immediately left and ate Olive Garden like I just got out Guantanamo Bay.
It was definitely the worse part of training, but I am anxious to do it again.
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