tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-80193087753323201472024-03-05T23:37:54.576-08:00The Battle BackChronicling my journey to my first amateur fightDiem Studioshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04956571887601361312noreply@blogger.comBlogger16125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8019308775332320147.post-16498596121399093882010-04-18T23:05:00.000-07:002010-04-19T15:23:20.308-07:00The Day.<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">It’s taken me two weeks to write this long overdue entry.<br />
My face is broken out and looking chubby due to the excess of treats and bad food I’ve been partaking in.<br />
I’ve had a lot of time to think about the future and what’s next.<br />
That’s probably the hardest part of achieving a massive goal: What’s next?<br />
What happens now?<br />
<br />
<br />
Let’s go back.<br />
It’s Easter Sunday.<br />
I arise at dawn without the assistance of an alarm clock of any kind.<br />
It may as well be Christmas morning.<br />
Years of blood and sweat and pain and sacrifice are to be made worthwhile.<br />
The loss of love and friends and time, given value.<br />
My body feels razor sharp.<br />
Every limb is light as a feather but solid as lead.<br />
I feel the best I ever have.<br />
<br />
I’m underweight again according to my scale.<br />
The one issue leading up to the fight rears it’s ugly head at zero hour.<br />
I need to gain five pounds in roughly three hours.<br />
This would normally stress me out.<br />
I would normally be daunted by the suggestion of gaining such a large amount of weight.<br />
Not on this day.<br />
I’ve done my homework.<br />
I’ve studied my body.<br />
I know the proper equation of food and liquid necessary to gain the five necessary pounds.<br />
I’m calm.<br />
<br />
I spend a few moments by the window.<br />
The musical selection is soothing; it’s not yet time to elevate my level of intensity.<br />
I will know soon how nervous I’m going to be.<br />
It’s cold out.<br />
It is still dark and the sun is attempting to trespass on the steel blue sky.<br />
The breeze blows steady.<br />
I listen to the sounds of songbirds coaxing the day to life.<br />
I listen to the calming tracks from my speakers.<br />
I listen to my own breath.<br />
It is steady and fixed.<br />
I am ready.<br />
<br />
I eat two large sandwiches and two bananas and enjoy my cup of coffee.<br />
It’s hard to get all of the food down.<br />
I’m not hungry but I understand the necessity.<br />
It’s a challenge to drink enough milk.<br />
I don’t want it and I’m not thirsty, but I know I need it.<br />
I pack a third sandwich and check my bag for the tenth time.<br />
I am ready.<br />
<br />
The drive to Ryan and Evan’s new house is calm.<br />
This is early morning beach weather.<br />
The tracks I’ve chosen weeks ago are still on the calmer side but they’re picking up.<br />
Upon arriving there is a buzz in the house.<br />
Ryan is jittery and his energy is elevated to levels never before seen in this early of an hour in the morning.<br />
The rest of the group is excited.<br />
They want to know things.<br />
They want to know where my head is at.<br />
I am a million miles from here.<br />
After getting things settled we’re off.<br />
I can’t wait to get my headphones on, it is time for the next level.<br />
<br />
We’re slightly late and it nips at my nerves ever so slightly.<br />
I quell the anxiety with another sandwich and a Gatorade.<br />
I’m not hungry and I’m not thirsty, but I know they will get me closer.<br />
<br />
We arrive at the event to all of the early morning chaos I expected.<br />
I’m the first fighter from my gym there and the only one on-time.<br />
There is yelling and frantic activity.<br />
Nothing is set up and I’m not surprised.<br />
I’m still a million miles away.<br />
I check my breathing and I’m still calm.<br />
Ryan looks like he’s going to have a burst of excited activity at any given moment.<br />
He is my best friend and he has been waiting for this forever and he can’t wait.<br />
He is the personification of loyalty and he can’t possibly contain himself.<br />
<br />
Things get bad quickly.<br />
Fighter’s meeting number one does not yield a positive message.<br />
Myself and one other fighter are the only fighters out of six from my gym that are present, even though the meeting is 45 minutes late.<br />
The message is simple and frustrating.<br />
The Commissioner's Office decided on a rule change two nights ago and told no one.<br />
Instead of 21 fights, there would now be 12.<br />
All of my composure and calm goes out of the window faster than I could imagine.<br />
I am instantly ragged.<br />
Not again.<br />
Please God not again.<br />
I repeat.<br />
Over and over.<br />
I am in utter disbelief.<br />
This is not happening to me again.<br />
For a fraction of a second I am relieved.<br />
When that moment of doubt ends I am incensed with myself for such a thought.<br />
It never enters my mind again.<br />
Ryan is there.<br />
He is keeping me calm.<br />
He is looking me in the eyes.<br />
He is just as upset as me but he is not showing any other emotion than confidence.<br />
<br />
I am still a mess.<br />
The officials will be choosing fights from a hat.<br />
Three years of training.<br />
Three months of intensity and sacrifice and pain.<br />
It all comes down to a scribbled number in a hat.<br />
My team mate is furious.<br />
He doesn’t want to be there.<br />
I beg him to witness the drawing.<br />
They tell us that if your opponent isn’t present at this point, you will be put on a reserve list and most likely won’t be fighting.<br />
They tell us if your number isn’t drawn, you won’t be fighting.<br />
They tell us if you both don’t make weight, you won’t be fighting.<br />
I am now officially a basket-case.<br />
I’m pretty sure I’m shaking, but it’s cold and I tell myself it’s the nipping wind.<br />
Name after name is called.<br />
Disappointment after disappointment.<br />
Most of my teammates aren’t there and all of their names get called.<br />
Their opponents are devastated.<br />
I am devastated.<br />
I am counting.<br />
8th fight match... 9th fight match... Tenth... Evelenth...<br />
My shoulders slump.<br />
That’s not my name either.<br />
Then I realize there are a set of hands on my shoulders shaking me violently and with great excitement.<br />
I know that grip.<br />
Those are Ryan’s hands.<br />
He pulls me in and hugs me.<br />
My name has been called.<br />
<br />
The next two hours are pure frustration and boredom.<br />
There are papers to be filled out.<br />
The officials treat you with a kind of sub-human disgust.<br />
Your questions are answered with disrespect and foul tones.<br />
My medical examination is a joke.<br />
Then the moment of truth.<br />
159.4 pounds.<br />
I am nearly perfect.<br />
<br />
Things blur.<br />
It’s a whirling mess of saying hello to family and friends while trying to regain my composure.<br />
My Dad is a wreck.<br />
He’s like a puppy.<br />
He wants to be everywhere I am.<br />
He is nervous and I need to not be near his unsteady nerves.<br />
I am back in my zone.<br />
I am completely relaxed.<br />
They keep giving me different stories.<br />
You’re fighting last, you’re fighting first, repeat.<br />
More blurs.<br />
I am getting my hands wrapped.<br />
I am laughing and I am mellow.<br />
I crack jokes.<br />
I listen to my predetermined mix of songs.<br />
It is extremely cold and I fight off shivers.<br />
My trainer hasn’t said much to me yet.<br />
I am told to shadowbox in a dirty parking lot with very limited space.<br />
I am cold.<br />
They put the gloves on my hands.<br />
They are the lightest boxing gloves that have ever graced my hands.<br />
The tag tells me they weigh 10 ounces, but I laugh at this notion.<br />
My corner men are asking me if I’m ready.<br />
I believe they are trying to gauge my level of nervousness, which is nearly zero.<br />
My corner man Omar is spewing obscenities, as is his Queens Bridge way.<br />
Something about hitting him so hard he dies.<br />
I am still very cold.<br />
Before I know what is happening, a man is screaming my name and he’s telling me we are late and need to go NOW.<br />
I don’t like him yelling at me.<br />
My trainer tells me we won’t know how my opponent fights until the second round.<br />
He says something about staying calm and being first.<br />
I understand him but I am now acutely aware at just how cold I am.<br />
<br />
I watch the logo on my trainers back the hundred yards or so to the ring.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">The crowd parts for us.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">I feel the eyes of the people as we pass.<br />
I hear a child say, “MOMMY! Why is that man not wearing a shirt?”<br />
And her mother reply, “’Cause he’s going to fight. See his boxing gloves?”<br />
For the first time of the day, I receive a rush of adrenaline accompanied with a hot flash of fear.<br />
I stifle it.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">Someone pats me on the shoulder and says something to me, but I don't understand it.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">Everything is in slow motion.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">Individual words run together into one monotone, muffled wall of sound.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">I count the loose threads on the logo on my trainer's back.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">There are 17.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">I understand that this means I am not nervous and therefor capable of focusing on a task.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;"><br />
As we approach the ring the crowd absolutely erupts.<br />
I can pick out the voices of my best friend and my sister and my mom and my step-dad and Stephanie and everyone there to see me fight.<br />
It is so much louder than I had imagine.<br />
I wai to the ring and they grow louder.<br />
I climb in and wai to all four sides and each side explodes with applause.<br />
When I approach my corner my trainer tells me to focus on my Wai Kru.<br />
I comprehend this.<br />
I do my Wai Kru and I feel right.<br />
It comes out sweeping and deliberate and I like the thought of doing it in front of hundreds.<br />
Sharing my art, my style.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">I feel completely honored for a split second.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">Realizing the gravity of performing this at Songkran in the streets of Hollywood in front of hundreds.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">I stifle this notion as well.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">It isn't difficult.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">I am only the motions of my Wai Kru.<br />
I come to the side where most of my family and friends are and I nod my head with fervor in recognition of them.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">I've had this planned for months.<br />
Once again they go insane with glee.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">My small gesture did not go unnoticed by my supporters.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;"><br />
I can’t hear anything now.<br />
It is incomprehensibly loud.<br />
My trainer says a prayer and removes my Mongkol.<br />
He says something about being first and kicking the leg.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">It makes sense to me.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;"><br />
I am extremely calm.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">I pray to my corner.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">I thank my God for this moment.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">I thank my God for giving me the strength to get here.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">I thank my God for my family and friends.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">I ask him to "keep my eyes safe and my head straight."</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">I ask him to tell my grandpa I did it.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">I cross myself and touch my forehead and point to the sky.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">I'm hoping my "Papa" can see this.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">My crowd bursts forth once again.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">I stretch my back on the ropes and check my breathing.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">I am still calm.<br />
This is my moment.<br />
<br />
-Drew</span></span>Diem Studioshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04956571887601361312noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8019308775332320147.post-18777885903989215742010-03-25T23:11:00.000-07:002010-03-29T09:53:18.851-07:00And the road.<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">(I wrote this in my head while I was running earlier, I hope you enjoy it.)<br />
<br />
A slight breeze blowing coolly towards the East.<br />
The sound of seabirds complaining.<br />
The thick overtones of fermenting hops.<br />
The pungent stench of rotting garbage.<br />
Cars whizzing past.<br />
Bustling streets filled with people who’s days have ended.<br />
<i>Correct your form. You’re plodding again.</i><br />
Crickets signaling the quickly approaching dusk.<br />
The dull slapping of rubber to concrete.<br />
The rhythmic pattern of gasps for oxygen.<br />
<i>Slow your breathing, in and out, in and out</i><br />
The searing sting of sweat streaming it’s way into my eyes.<br />
<i>That split time was slow, pick up the pace</i><br />
The looks on the faces; mild disgust and curiosity and feigned fearlessness.<br />
<br />
The sounds of ghosts in my head.<br />
Laughing.<br />
Scoffing.<br />
Doubting my character.<br />
My ability.<br />
My resolve.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">My strength.<br />
<i>They are laughing at you.<br />
Pick up the pace.</i><br />
<br />
The sounds of encouragement in my head.<br />
Backflip it.<br />
Do this for me.<br />
Do this for yourself.<br />
Win.<br />
I know you can do it.<br />
I believe in you.<br />
You’re not even tired.<br />
<i>I am not even tired.</i><br />
<br />
<br />
Four miles.<br />
Just me and the city and the smells and my thoughts.<br />
No music.<br />
Just the road.<br />
Just me and the road.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">Just me and the road and you.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">The haters and the lovers.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">You keep me going.<br />
<br />
-Drew</span></span>Diem Studioshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04956571887601361312noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8019308775332320147.post-4222541347688847992010-03-22T23:43:00.000-07:002010-03-26T16:18:44.359-07:00Clarity. <span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,Helvetica,Arial;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;">I was probably bitching.<br />
Most likely whining about not being able to chow down a plate of cheesecake or enjoy a nice hoppy adult beverage.<br />
I’d even wager to guess I was slouching in my chair with my shoulders slumped and that distant look in my eyes.<br />
And he asked me, “Why the hell are you doing this?”<br />
The question.<br />
The question, again.<br />
I blurted out, “winning.”<br />
I knew that wasn’t a good answer, so I straightened up, threw my shoulders back and slapped on my you-wouldn’t-understand look.<br />
I don’t think he bought it any more than I did.<br />
It troubled me deeply that I still didn’t have an answer.<br />
It also bothered me that the first few things that came to mind were things I’d never say out loud; to anyone.<br />
<br />
<br />
I stumbled across a painful reminder of the past tonight.<br />
I’m a very sentimental and emotional guy, but something about this didn’t shake me like I would expect it to.<br />
All at once the answer came to me.<br />
Happiness.<br />
<i>Happiness.</i><br />
<br />
I’ve never felt particularly proud of myself or my life.<br />
I’m a life of unfinished chapters.<br />
Ellipses and early exits.<br />
I never reached my potential, nor applied myself as much as I could have.<br />
I regret so many decisions.<br />
But this, this fight is my chance at redemption.<br />
Redemption even for a fleeting moment.<br />
To stand opposed to my nature.<br />
To finish this.<br />
To finally feel like I’ve accomplished something.<br />
To overcome and prove to no one else but myself that I’m worth something.<br />
To be happy with me.<br />
<br />
Is it going to feel good to prove people wrong?<br />
Sure.<br />
Will it be a moral victory for me as soon as I set foot in the ring?<br />
Absolutely.<br />
All of the peripheral reasons are still motivation.<br />
But the root of all of this lies within myself.<br />
<br />
<i>This one’s for me.</i><br />
<br />
-Drew</span></span></span>Diem Studioshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04956571887601361312noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8019308775332320147.post-20332241577721023322010-03-20T08:26:00.000-07:002010-03-23T10:43:47.379-07:00MotivationP3 Vol. 3: Just the beats, please.For this week's selection I'm going with a 2-pack of songs instead of my usual.<br />
<br />
Sometimes motivation doesn't necessarily come from the message, but instead from the vibe.<br />
Below are two songs that are firing me up without having an instant lyrical push.<br />
<br />
1. This is one of those songs you can't help but get fired up about while listening to:<br />
<a href="http://itunes.apple.com/us/album/spitfire/id21819724?i=21819730">"Spitfire" by The Prodigy</a><br />
(It's also featured on the Yodsanklai video on the right side of the page)<br />
<br />
For a free listen, here's the <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lrmf283dSXw&feature=related">music video</a>.<br />
<br />
2. While the meaning is there, be it in French, the attitude of this song is what gets me moving:<br />
<a href="http://itunes.apple.com/us/album/la-puissance/id219933395?i=219933398">"La puissance" by Rohff</a><br />
<br />
Once again, for a full preview, check out the <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B-1vFbt45zk">music video</a>.<br />
I find it personally hilarious that he's crusing around the 'hood of L.A. in a OG Dodgers cap in a low-low rapping in French.<br />
I'm now thouroughly confused about where he's from.<br />
(In case you're wondering, he's basically rapping the same stuff as American Hip Hop artists do; being the hardest, ect.)<br />
<br />
-DrewDiem Studioshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04956571887601361312noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8019308775332320147.post-91501377018686839952010-03-17T00:11:00.000-07:002010-03-17T00:11:15.439-07:00Me vs. MeI could talk about "the grind", but I've been down that road.<br />
Instead I'll just reinforce what a challenge it is.<br />
<br />
Let it never be said that anyone can do this.<br />
I haven't felt rested in weeks.<br />
Every joint in my body feels like it's rusting solid.<br />
My body is telling me it's time for a rest.<br />
It's all a fight.<br />
Worse yet is the emotional toll.<br />
There's no one to tell me it's OK to be afraid.<br />
No one to commiserate with about the details of my hell.<br />
I'm alone in the fight and maybe that's the way it's meant to be.<br />
Maybe that way when all is said and done I can hold my head high knowing that <i>I</i> did this.<br />
All I know for sure is my small apartment seems ever so large when I flip on the lights.<br />
<br />
It's times like this I think about all I've lost in the last couple of years.<br />
I don't know if it's an impulse driven by the ever changing climate of my mind during fight training or if it's a self-preservative measure.<br />
One that ensures there is fuel to burn.<br />
Whatever the case may be, there is indeed ample fuel.<br />
<br />
<br />
Someone asked me recently what kept me going; what kept me hungry.<br />
I couldn't answer in a straight forward, honest fashion.<br />
Instead I threw out the usual fighter euphemisms that have been regurgitated by countless generations of pugilists.<br />
When the lights went out that night I tossed and turned.<br />
I gagged on that question for hours.<br />
What was it that kept me going?<br />
Who was I doing this for?<br />
Was I doing it to prove wrong those who've doubted me over the years?<br />
Was I doing it to prove anyone can do whatever they put their minds to?<br />
Was it to show my prowess in the ring?<br />
Was it anger?<br />
Pride?<br />
Passion?<br />
Was I doing it to feel like all that I've given up in the name of my sport was worth something?<br />
Or was it simply so I could look in the mirror and finally feel some measure of pride?<br />
I still can't answer that question.<br />
<br />
I think I've dished out my pre-packaged, SportsCenter-ready answers a few times since.<br />
'You just have to dig deep and know that if you commit yourself and do the best you can do, there is no way you can lose; even if you're not called the winner.'<br />
At the end of the day, I still wrestle with the question.<br />
I think maybe it's a mix of all of those things.<br />
I hope the answer will be clear when I step out of that ring.<br />
<br />
<br />
I still can't tell if the fear is natural.<br />
None of this feels natural.<br />
So many people are calling me crazy for doing this and it's starting to sink in.<br />
Doubts are starting to seep into the tiny cracks in my foundation.<br />
The ones that I've haphazardly thrown a coat of paint over.<br />
I'm feeling like I'm the least prepared fighter out of our team.<br />
I'm finally able to visualize looking up at my opponent from my back.<br />
Hearing the condolences of my family and friends.<br />
Seeing the disappointed, disgusted, impossible to mask looks of those I care so much about as I lose.<br />
Losing.<br />
Shame.<br />
Injury.<br />
<br />
I suppose I'm writing this all here to get it out of my system.<br />
I haven't felt like I could say this to anyone.<br />
Hopefully it will bring me some peace.<br />
A rest-filled night.<br />
<br />
I fancy myself one of the more intelligent fighters out there.<br />
I pray I'm smart enough to work this all out before it consumes me.<br />
On my own.<br />
<br />
-DrewDiem Studioshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04956571887601361312noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8019308775332320147.post-46725119455649795722010-03-10T13:53:00.000-08:002010-03-10T13:53:19.323-08:00Smells like retreat.I've conceded defeat on this blog.<br />
It's become apparent that no one reads the damn thing.<br />
So rather than pound my head into an already thick wall, I'm slowly backing away.<br />
<br />
If you want to track progress of day to day stuff, you can check out my DailyMile profile at:<br />
http://www.dailymile.com/people/DiemStudios<br />
<br />
-DrewDiem Studioshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04956571887601361312noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8019308775332320147.post-14367857904148784302010-03-01T14:20:00.000-08:002010-03-17T14:55:05.007-07:00MoviationP3 Vol. 2For this week's song, I picked a little something rougher.<br />
If you know me I'm a big fan of Eminem; I prefer the angry, serious Eminem to the goofy, triumph-the-comic-dog-like Eminem.<br />
With that said, I offer up this week's anthem:<br />
<br />
<a href="http://itunes.apple.com/us/album/rebirth-deluxe-version/id350833659">"Drop the World" by Lil Wayne & Eminem</a><br />
<br />
"I swear one way or another I’ma make these ... haters believe."<br />
<br />
-DrewDiem Studioshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04956571887601361312noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8019308775332320147.post-85612412094805460562010-02-19T09:10:00.000-08:002010-03-17T15:52:32.791-07:00No one.<blockquote style="color: black;">"You may not think the world needs you, but it<br />
does. You are an unique, one-time, unrepeatable event in<br />
the Universe. There has never been nor will there ever be<br />
anyone else exactly like you. No one can speak with your<br />
voice, smile your smile or shine your light. No one can<br />
take your place, for it is yours alone to fill. If you are<br />
not there to shine your light, who knows how many<br />
travelers will lose their way as they try to pass by your<br />
empty place in the darkness."<br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>- Lawrence Mahar</i></blockquote><br />
Big ups to my Mom for sending me this quote. It was well-placed, just when I needed it. Thanks Mom. <br />
<br />
-DrewDiem Studioshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04956571887601361312noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8019308775332320147.post-18537659411493927152010-02-17T22:46:00.000-08:002010-03-17T15:08:45.832-07:00MotivationalP3 Vol. 1 I derive a lot of my strength from music.<br />
There are so many songs that keep me going.<br />
With that said, I'm going to try something new on The Battle Back.<br />
Every week I'll post a link to my theme for the that week in the form of a song.<br />
I'll give you the iTunes link (since I'd prefer not getting in any legal trouble) and/or a youTube link as well.<br />
<br />
This week's MotivationalP3 keeps with my very Muhammad Ali-heavy theme:<br />
<a href="http://itunes.apple.com/us/album/ali-in-the-jungle-ep/id350314904">"Ali in the Jungle" by The Hours</a><br />
<br />
The music video is actually really cool as well, but you've got to watch it ALL the way through: <br />
<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VWuVEhTJPdw">"Ali in the Jungle" music video</a><br />
<br />
And lastly, the Nike commercial: <br />
<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bPO354_ugF8">Nike "Human Chain" Ad</a><br />
<br />
Keep getting up.<br />
<br />
-DrewDiem Studioshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04956571887601361312noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8019308775332320147.post-18093080926866334562010-02-17T22:07:00.000-08:002010-02-18T10:18:53.975-08:00The Grind.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj77WpfWplPnds01ATEfPMsoG0t9FD4mxZDoqjFCNGJOGBl5Df2ineFh9mwqKCSYFL5kURS9rOgOBu2ZXeZEejzq7UpVkSU5upUuuZEPK_JYCJW6Sp0J6K_q8p6sXdFbkubRM0toXgxjg7E/s1600-h/22467_1214087556368_1354178086_2205316_1528735_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj77WpfWplPnds01ATEfPMsoG0t9FD4mxZDoqjFCNGJOGBl5Df2ineFh9mwqKCSYFL5kURS9rOgOBu2ZXeZEejzq7UpVkSU5upUuuZEPK_JYCJW6Sp0J6K_q8p6sXdFbkubRM0toXgxjg7E/s320/22467_1214087556368_1354178086_2205316_1528735_n.jpg" width="260" /></a>Sorry it's been so long since my last post.<br />
It's been a combination of two parts tired, one part uninspired and one part feeling the pressure to write a glorious bit of literature every time I post.<br />
I'm not going to let the last bit effect me anymore.<br />
I'm simply going to post.<br />
Some might be duds.<br />
Some might be so inspiring you just want to go verb.<br />
Sometimes I might just complain about how much my left shin is killing me.<br />
<br />
With that said...<br />
<br />
The grind is on.<br />
If you've been following my <a href="http://www.dailymile.com/people/diemstudios">Dailymile site</a> (and you should), you know I've been working out/running nonstop.<br />
I'm not even to the hard part of training.<br />
With 8 weeks left till my fight, this is simply the "maintenance period", a sentiment that genuinely scares the pants off of me.<br />
It seems miles from where I am right now.<br />
<br />
I'm trying my best to go a little bit harder every day.<br />
That one extra rep.<br />
One more leg kick.<br />
One more right cross.<br />
I'm beginning to feel more and more machine-like every day.<br />
I look in the brownish green dots staring back at me in the mirror and I don't recognize them.<br />
They're angry with me.<br />
They're telling me I'm stronger than this and I have more to give.<br />
They're saying I can dig deeper and still find enough to push on.<br />
They drive me.<br />
They're making me controlled, calculated and ice-cold.<br />
<br />
The grind rails against everything I accomplish in the gym or on the sidewalks or on the trail.<br />
The grind makes every room I'm in too small.<br />
The grind tells me I won't make it.<br />
The grind says that I will be on my back in front of hundreds of onlookers bleeding from the mouth.<br />
The day in and day out of training is something I can't explain.<br />
To stay mentally on point every day.<br />
To push yourself to the point of breaking and then keep pushing until you do.<br />
It's all a fight.<br />
You're always fighting the grind.<br />
Limbs are always sore and bruised and battered and they're telling you to give up.<br />
Lungs are spitting fire and screaming for mercy.<br />
But you fight the grind.<br />
You beat the grind into submission.<br />
And when you win, there's no rest.<br />
The fight continues.<br />
<br />
-DrewDiem Studioshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04956571887601361312noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8019308775332320147.post-77292409511831160742010-01-22T00:11:00.000-08:002010-03-17T15:52:20.438-07:00Overcoming.<blockquote style="color: black;">"The harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph. What we obtain too cheap, we esteem too lightly; it is dearness only that gives everything its value. I love the man that can smile in trouble, that can gather strength from distress and grow”<br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>- Thomas Paine</i></blockquote><br />
After just a few short weeks of preparation and study, I achieved my promotion to the next level.<br />
For the sake of understanding the weight of this promotion you can equate it to being one step from a black belt in Karate.<br />
Needless to say, it's a big deal.<br />
<br />
-DrewDiem Studioshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04956571887601361312noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8019308775332320147.post-27106101684031677542010-01-21T23:44:00.000-08:002010-01-25T16:31:28.391-08:00Customized.Long time no blog, eh?<br />
I have a couple in the works but it's been a hectic week.<br />
So, in the interest of <strike>stalling</strike> getting your opinions (all two of you).<br />
I'm putting together a list of the possible custom Thai shorts I'm going to design for myself.<br />
A good friend of mine is going to Thailand for over three months, so I can design an (relatively) unlimited number of shorts.<br />
<br />
Currently I have:<br />
80's Los Angeles Laker-themed shorts<br />
Black with red/gold glitter flame Pirate-themed shorts<br />
Red Bull Cola shorts<br />
White with Red stars and my gym's logo<br />
and basic Red shorts<br />
<br />
Below are some ideas, I'd really like opinions about my choices and/or any ideas you may have:<br />
<br />
Blue's Clues-themed; Blue's friend Magenta's face as the short (pink with pink dots)<br />
<br />
Domo shorts; Brown with two little eyeballs and a big set of teeth over the crotch (if you don't know what <a href="http://images.google.com/images?source=ig&hl=en&rlz=&=&q=Domo&um=1&ie=UTF-8&sa=N&tab=wi">Domo</a> is you're missing out)<br />
<br />
Thai shorts with kisses all over the back (my trainer made some like this and they're awesome)<br />
<br />
Army-themed shorts in recognition of the brave men and women (like my friend John) out there being braver than we can comprehend.<br />
<br />
-DrewDiem Studioshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04956571887601361312noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8019308775332320147.post-3447143069648099972010-01-13T11:01:00.000-08:002010-01-14T11:02:26.078-08:00Muay Thai 101.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMrA28Z4lrzAJ96vZ5FbN3Gw0hdPRsYYx6Cv06jAuMw2jDxvp2j2kiicQsQexnKiOx6PyVSPXTP9tFepnC1kpRclw1PCPXADX_FtIi64X7cQWHTIGsb2tY4DnJMOlyEe3sPqg-vVli5u3H/s1600-h/6372_1078729132492_1354178086_1898818_7100896_n-pola+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMrA28Z4lrzAJ96vZ5FbN3Gw0hdPRsYYx6Cv06jAuMw2jDxvp2j2kiicQsQexnKiOx6PyVSPXTP9tFepnC1kpRclw1PCPXADX_FtIi64X7cQWHTIGsb2tY4DnJMOlyEe3sPqg-vVli5u3H/s320/6372_1078729132492_1354178086_1898818_7100896_n-pola+copy.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">Tomorrow I’ll be tested.<br />
However this kind of test won’t involve my level of commitment or my cardiovascular strength.<br />
This is a test of the mind.<br />
Every three to four months my teacher gives us a series of examinations to determine if we’re ready for the next “level” of Muay Thai knowledge and training.<br />
I currently exist in the space known as level 4, as indicated by the green Pra Jiad I wear with pride on my arm.<br />
(A Pra Jiad is a traditional “good luck” armband)<br />
I will be testing to enter level 5, a great honor in my gym as there are only 6 levels.<br />
Our evaluation consists of a test of the mind, a test of skill, a test of application and a test of our Wai Kru Ram Muay skill.<br />
<br />
Wai Kru Ram Muay (mostly called Wai Kru or Ram Muay by Thai people) is a traditional Thai dance that is performed before a fighter engages in combat.<br />
Wai Kru translates directly from Thai as “bow to teacher.”<br />
It is a dance to warm up the fighter, pay respects to one’s teacher and ancestors as well as showing one’s physical prowess.<br />
A beautiful and complicated dance in nature, it shares a likeness to traditional Thai dance.<br />
With each level we learn a new Wai Kru dance.<br />
We are expected to perform it with grace, precision and style.<br />
In Thailand, onlookers can determine what gym a fighter is from based on what dance he performs.<br />
Some are meant to emulate animals in nature such as a swan.<br />
Others emulate the motions of people such as an archer.<br />
My current Wai Kru is affectionately known as “The Gravedigger.”<br />
It is as advertised.<br />
In my dance I pretend to dig a hole, fling my opponent over my shoulder, toss them in a shallow grave, kick dirt on them and pound down the dirt on top of their lifeless corpse.<br />
It is more straight forward than graceful, but effective nonetheless.<br />
<br />
There’s such a juxtaposition of brutality and beauty in this sport.<br />
One that makes it so much more than two guys beating each other’s brains out.<br />
We are not dumb brutes.<br />
We are skilled tacticians.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">We care about so much more than the ability to inflict more damage than the opponent.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">When a Thai fighter enters the ring it is a test of his own courage and skill, not of his machismo.<br />
So the next time you jump at the chance to call all fighting senseless and infantile take a closer look.<br />
Not all fighting is made the same.<br />
<br />
-Drew </span></span> <!--EndFragment-->Diem Studioshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04956571887601361312noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8019308775332320147.post-58199038463221224892010-01-13T00:54:00.000-08:002010-03-17T15:51:44.180-07:00To Be The Greatest.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaOAEH7_0GurvcAyYIo8AtF4_ACzF81u0EJ5i0qx6AyVec9qffkZU3f0XaQWEVJKidF78KNX-AUO2ZlIzrTowYWy1aqwZTzNBzhSZbQg3B_YXPNOi1ip7c_jlPx4lTpgcO5_sAR83VMgoc/s1600-h/Muhammad-Ali.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426367621952125426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaOAEH7_0GurvcAyYIo8AtF4_ACzF81u0EJ5i0qx6AyVec9qffkZU3f0XaQWEVJKidF78KNX-AUO2ZlIzrTowYWy1aqwZTzNBzhSZbQg3B_YXPNOi1ip7c_jlPx4lTpgcO5_sAR83VMgoc/s400/Muhammad-Ali.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 315px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 399px;" /></a><br />
I've held "The Greatest" as one of my idols since I was too young to know what made him the greatest.<br />
I can still remember him dancing around the ring making children of men.<br />
In the gym lobbing joke after joke at the media when he wasn't lobbing rights at his training partners.<br />
He always kept those around him entertained.<br />
Always smiling, always on point.<br />
I've always carried that example for myself.<br />
I enjoy inciting laughter between rounds.<br />
Keeping an otherwise heavy, dark environment a happy place.<br />
I've taken bits of his swagger, while dropping most of his cocky bravado.<br />
(Muay Thai is a support of respect and tradition, we learn to be gentlemen in and out of the ring)<br />
<br />
However it's not his quick wit and comical demeanor that I'm attempting to emulate the most.<br />
It's his fire.<br />
His self-assured nature.<br />
Whether he be known as Cassius Clay, Cassius X or Muhammad Ali it was certain the one person that never doubted him was himself.<br />
Victory was assured.<br />
Greatness a guarantee.<br />
<br />
<blockquote style="color: black;">“Champions aren´t made in the gyms. Champions are made from something they have deep inside them - a desire, a dream, a vision.”<br />
<br />
-<span style="font-style: italic;">Muhammad Ali</span></blockquote><br />
<br />
I don't claim to be the greatest just yet.<br />
But my day will come.<br />
My hand, raised high over the crowd.<br />
My day will come.<br />
<br />
-DrewDiem Studioshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04956571887601361312noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8019308775332320147.post-21944036070882808332010-01-11T23:35:00.000-08:002010-01-18T11:02:41.680-08:00Shades of Inspiration.Week two started well.<br />
My spirits were high.<br />
My midsection held proof that I was working towards a goal.<br />
I was feeling good about things.<br />
I’m on the road, I thought to myself.<br />
I was my usual jovial self.<br />
Cracking wise and making light of our sweaty, pain-enriched environment.<br />
Feeling good.<br />
A nice, warm contentness enveloped me.<br />
The finish line is far, but I am making good progress.<br />
I didn’t push my hardest.<br />
I didn’t bleed passion.<br />
But my effort was apparent.<br />
<br />
Then someone went and stole my overcoat of complacency.<br />
Turns out, it’s cold in that gym.<br />
<br />
As I finished up, my attention shifted to my trainer.<br />
My mentor.<br />
He was quietly stretching out his chiseled frame.<br />
It was an odd sight at nearly closing time.<br />
I watched as he warmed up.<br />
Throwing punches at the cold night air.<br />
His face was void of expression.<br />
A blank page.<br />
His eyes, however, shown the fire of one thousand burning suns.<br />
<br />
He had already done his training for the day hours before.<br />
There was no fight in his future.<br />
No goal to work towards.<br />
Just the fire for this sport we love.<br />
He just couldn’t leave without hitting the bag a bit longer.<br />
Perfecting form for the sake of perfecting it.<br />
<br />
That’s when it hit me.<br />
There is no finish line.<br />
I am not running towards a determined goal.<br />
I am running in search of something.<br />
There are no breaks for water or rest.<br />
Only the run.<br />
Only the hunt.<br />
<br />
<i>Run Forever.</i><br />
<br />
-DrewDiem Studioshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04956571887601361312noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8019308775332320147.post-19804034343188326442010-01-10T23:39:00.000-08:002010-01-11T12:22:32.719-08:00The Beginning.This is my blank sheet of paper burgeoning to be filled with vowels and consonants of my struggle to win my first Amateur Muay Thai fight.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwYYZcX07fp6xpWOpsIGj1H8newUq_lajgJtqG76jRXAlquiOpmtV7AbbrXGLtKVnV0deBtWfTq1j7SxPwnjwRpK1c-KmsSIp2Fu3d7oJNR656wmzsL3Gb2I0dwfpqpixl_Za8_hrA9sX4/s1600-h/6372_1078729052490_1354178086_1898816_7831381_n.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 252px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwYYZcX07fp6xpWOpsIGj1H8newUq_lajgJtqG76jRXAlquiOpmtV7AbbrXGLtKVnV0deBtWfTq1j7SxPwnjwRpK1c-KmsSIp2Fu3d7oJNR656wmzsL3Gb2I0dwfpqpixl_Za8_hrA9sX4/s320/6372_1078729052490_1354178086_1898816_7831381_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425576368610557282" /></a><br />A little back story:<br />In 2008, I trained for a little over three months for my first amateur Thai fight.<br />It was wrought with injury and trepidation, but I made it through.<br />I sharpened my pudgy, awkward, 191 lb. body into a 154 lb. weapon of mass destruction.<br />I endured a terrible case of turf toe (trust me, it's worse than it sounds) and a fractured right foot during the 8th week of training, but battled on.<br />On the day of the fight, I kept busy.<br />Since I was underweight, I got to have a lovely meal with my girlfriend, share a few laughs and relax.<br />All was right in the world with the exception of my slight limp.<br />I arrived at weigh-ins to the sights and sounds of a half-dozen squad cars.<br />The California State Athletic Commission had shut us down.<br />My day was over.<br />16+ weeks of preparation and pain, all for not.<br /><br />It's been well over a year from that day.<br />Recently, my Grandfather passed away, leading me to take an extended leave of absence from the sport I love to take care of my family.<br />I've put on some weight and lost my endurance.<br />I can't think of a better time to sign up to fight.<br /><br />My life is one giant overcoming of odds.<br />As a child, I was diagnosed with a case of juvenile cataract.<br />I was the 8th studied case in the U.S.<br />I have almost no vision in one of my eyes.<br />My doctors' battle cry was "never."<br />I was told I'd "never" taste a large number of the fruits of life.<br />I have proven most of those statements wrong.<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">I will fight</span>.<br /><br />This blog will serve to track my progress.<br />I'll chronicle my numerous externalize injuries along the way.<br />The trials and tribulations that some of the most grueling training on earth has to offer.<br />My battles with my own personal demons.<br />I'll try to post a pic or two every so often.<br />All the way up to my fight.<br /><br />Stay tuned.<br /><br />-Drew "The One-Eyed Warrior"Diem Studioshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04956571887601361312noreply@blogger.com1