THIS ... IS ... SPARTA?
My 20 year old son has been training for the last six months. He’s been running and boxing, as well as cardio, resistance, and weight training. He’s been eating healthy, low fat, low carb, and high protein. He did weigh 218 lbs and he’s now 186 lbs. with a body fat level of 11%.
What prompted this?
The quest for glory in the ring.
He’s answering the call of his inner Gladiator.
I’ve been nauseated just thinking of my kid getting punched. It also makes me ill to think of him hitting someone else. I’ve raised him by myself since he was 18 months old but I’ve always made sure to be 100% supportive of his many testosterone-driven pursuits that are beyond my realm of interest. Football. Baseball. Basketball. Soccer. Motocross. Martial Arts. Skateboarding. Fishing. Camping. ATV Racing. Auto Restoration. Percussion. Whatever his thing, I’ve been there for him.
Until now. I was out of town this past weekend but even if I wasn’t, I couldn’t have attended. I have no interest in fighting and even less when it’s my kid inside a cage with some man who owns a gym called The Iron Cobra. Evidently this was some sort of ultimate fighting event where they use mixed martial arts and hand-to-hand combat. My son has taken Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu and Muay Thai Kickboxing but that was only a semester of each in college for PE credits.
I’m not a smothering or overly worried mom but my sister and mother have been stressed out over this, as if life hasn’t been anxiety-ridden enough lately. As for this gladiator stage (oh please, let it be a stage), I’ve been supportive of my son in that way where you’re supportive of the person even though you’re not sure they’re doing the right thing. I told him I would be there if he wanted me to be but he said it wasn’t necessary. He meant it too; we’re both busy with our own things and are seldom in the same place. Of course, I found out later his father, step-mother, and half brothers had been there so I then had a fleeting moment of parental insecurity where I felt terrible that I hadn’t gone when even the ghost father did make an appearance to watch the kid. Of course, that was the first sporting event in my son’s life that his father had ever attended so I think my ranking as the more involved parent still stands.
My brother-in-law went with my son and kept us posted with phone calls throughout the night. Matt had signed up for two fights. If he won the first one, the second one would be against the current middleweight title holder. The first fight didn’t last one round; it went less than three minutes. The other guy only got one punch in before Matt finished it quickly by placing him in a chokehold called the Standing Guillotine until the guy tapped out. Matt won the first one and had to go in the cage again for the next to last fight. That one was for the title/belt/trophy and it went two rounds. At the end of the first five minute round, my son was on top of the other guy beating him. The second round ended when Matt had the other guy against the fence and was repeatedly elbowing him in the face. My son won that one with a T.K.O.
***
Middleweight Gladiator Fight Champion
I’m still in shock. He has always been such a mild mannered kid. I really don’t know what to think about this. I keep reminding myself of the other things he’s got going for him. He’s attending college full-time and he also works part-time, 25+ hours a week. He’s never been in any trouble. Drinks occasionally, but responsibly. Really, our main conflict is that his room is always a mess. I really shouldn't be complaining. I know I need to start thinking of this gladiator thing as just another sport. This too, shall pass.
I now know why the first rule of Fight Club is ‘You don’t talk about Fight Club.’ Because it’s a difficult subject for fighters’ mommies. :/
I guess I should get one of those proud parent bumper stickers that says, “My kid can beat up your kid.” *headdesk*
What prompted this?
The quest for glory in the ring.
He’s answering the call of his inner Gladiator.
I’ve been nauseated just thinking of my kid getting punched. It also makes me ill to think of him hitting someone else. I’ve raised him by myself since he was 18 months old but I’ve always made sure to be 100% supportive of his many testosterone-driven pursuits that are beyond my realm of interest. Football. Baseball. Basketball. Soccer. Motocross. Martial Arts. Skateboarding. Fishing. Camping. ATV Racing. Auto Restoration. Percussion. Whatever his thing, I’ve been there for him.
Until now. I was out of town this past weekend but even if I wasn’t, I couldn’t have attended. I have no interest in fighting and even less when it’s my kid inside a cage with some man who owns a gym called The Iron Cobra. Evidently this was some sort of ultimate fighting event where they use mixed martial arts and hand-to-hand combat. My son has taken Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu and Muay Thai Kickboxing but that was only a semester of each in college for PE credits.
I’m not a smothering or overly worried mom but my sister and mother have been stressed out over this, as if life hasn’t been anxiety-ridden enough lately. As for this gladiator stage (oh please, let it be a stage), I’ve been supportive of my son in that way where you’re supportive of the person even though you’re not sure they’re doing the right thing. I told him I would be there if he wanted me to be but he said it wasn’t necessary. He meant it too; we’re both busy with our own things and are seldom in the same place. Of course, I found out later his father, step-mother, and half brothers had been there so I then had a fleeting moment of parental insecurity where I felt terrible that I hadn’t gone when even the ghost father did make an appearance to watch the kid. Of course, that was the first sporting event in my son’s life that his father had ever attended so I think my ranking as the more involved parent still stands.
My brother-in-law went with my son and kept us posted with phone calls throughout the night. Matt had signed up for two fights. If he won the first one, the second one would be against the current middleweight title holder. The first fight didn’t last one round; it went less than three minutes. The other guy only got one punch in before Matt finished it quickly by placing him in a chokehold called the Standing Guillotine until the guy tapped out. Matt won the first one and had to go in the cage again for the next to last fight. That one was for the title/belt/trophy and it went two rounds. At the end of the first five minute round, my son was on top of the other guy beating him. The second round ended when Matt had the other guy against the fence and was repeatedly elbowing him in the face. My son won that one with a T.K.O.
***
Middleweight Gladiator Fight Champion
I’m still in shock. He has always been such a mild mannered kid. I really don’t know what to think about this. I keep reminding myself of the other things he’s got going for him. He’s attending college full-time and he also works part-time, 25+ hours a week. He’s never been in any trouble. Drinks occasionally, but responsibly. Really, our main conflict is that his room is always a mess. I really shouldn't be complaining. I know I need to start thinking of this gladiator thing as just another sport. This too, shall pass.
I now know why the first rule of Fight Club is ‘You don’t talk about Fight Club.’ Because it’s a difficult subject for fighters’ mommies. :/
I guess I should get one of those proud parent bumper stickers that says, “My kid can beat up your kid.” *headdesk*