Life Update/MMA
My job ended on December 12th, so I packed up my apartment and moved “home” with my dad. I use quotation marks because I’m not really home. My dad wants this to be the year he moves to Eastman, or so he says. He and I have packed up some of his possessions and are now living in his hometown for the time being. I think I’ve mentioned this fact before, but he owns half of a house with my Uncle and Aunt, so this is where we are staying.
As for employment, I’ve basically accepted the “Demon Hunter” position, but I still grapple with whether or not this is the right thing. Emotionally, Dad is doing much better, though I can’t say for sure if he’s really improved, or if he’s just not being a butthole because I’m around. He’s turning into one of those crazy old guys. Specifically, he’s starting to hoard garbage. He’s not piling up old newspapers, pizza boxes, or jars of urine, but he won’t throw away paper towels. I wonder if this may be something I have to do, even if it doesn’t work out and I have to resign after six months, just so I don’t wonder what if. Still, if it works out that I’m meant to pack up all my things, move half or all the way across the country, only to quit and move back to Georgia, I’d rather just skip to that last step. Supposedly, I leave for training sometime in March, but I have to take one more PT test before then. The recruiter said she’d call me to schedule one in January. January isn’t even half over, but she’s going to have to make that happen before anything else happens.
Right now, life is like summer vacation, only with 55 degree weather, a perk of living in the Deep South during the winter. I spend my time surfing the internet, exercising, spending time with dad, enjoying my aunt’s cooking (another perk of living in the Deep South), and working through my Spanish lessons. It seems somewhat pointless now since I declined that other offer, but I paid for the lessons, so I might as well do them. Besides, I could end up on the southern border or in Miami, so knowing a little Spanish would only come in handy.
Oh, yes. I also get beat up on a weekly basis. There’s a Mixed Martial Arts gym in this town, now, and the owner is using me to help get two of his fighters in shape. I discovered it through a Tae Kwon Do dojang in town. The owner introduced me to the MMA club. There’s not a lot of varied competition for them here, so they welcomed the chance to fight someone new, even if I am trained in a more traditional style. Both of them have matches at the end of the month. They fight in the WEC, which is like the minor leagues of the UFC. I’m learning how to ground fight, now, and then we spar standing up. I’ve held my own against one of the fighters just fine, but the other guy has rang my bell twice since we started. He did so once last week and then again tonight.
Right now, I’m licking my wounds, and my pride aches even more than my freshly scrambled brains. Granted, I haven’t sparred in two years, but I’ve kept in shape. Considering that I started training in September of 2003, and this fellow only been training for eight months, I’d like to be doing better against him. Tonight, he was wearing 12 oz boxing gloves while I wore 3 oz mitts, so that also factors into tonight’s outcome. Still, I’d at least like to finish out the round.
They’ve been very encouraging, saying I did a good job. Although, they probably assume that if they started berating me, I probably wouldn’t work with them anymore. I was also surprised at how well I’ve been able to endure leg kicks since I have no Muay Thai training. Even when they caught me on one leg, I haven’t lost my balance. I even caught the other guy (not the guy who’s throttled me two weeks in a row) in the throat with a spinning side kick. Fortunately, I didn’t have all my power behind it, but he spat out his mouth piece. It was cool. I almost did so again tonight, but I missed (or he weaved), and I merely grazed him. I could justifiably feel good about myself, if only my head didn’t feel like someone backed a bus over it.
As for employment, I’ve basically accepted the “Demon Hunter” position, but I still grapple with whether or not this is the right thing. Emotionally, Dad is doing much better, though I can’t say for sure if he’s really improved, or if he’s just not being a butthole because I’m around. He’s turning into one of those crazy old guys. Specifically, he’s starting to hoard garbage. He’s not piling up old newspapers, pizza boxes, or jars of urine, but he won’t throw away paper towels. I wonder if this may be something I have to do, even if it doesn’t work out and I have to resign after six months, just so I don’t wonder what if. Still, if it works out that I’m meant to pack up all my things, move half or all the way across the country, only to quit and move back to Georgia, I’d rather just skip to that last step. Supposedly, I leave for training sometime in March, but I have to take one more PT test before then. The recruiter said she’d call me to schedule one in January. January isn’t even half over, but she’s going to have to make that happen before anything else happens.
Right now, life is like summer vacation, only with 55 degree weather, a perk of living in the Deep South during the winter. I spend my time surfing the internet, exercising, spending time with dad, enjoying my aunt’s cooking (another perk of living in the Deep South), and working through my Spanish lessons. It seems somewhat pointless now since I declined that other offer, but I paid for the lessons, so I might as well do them. Besides, I could end up on the southern border or in Miami, so knowing a little Spanish would only come in handy.
Oh, yes. I also get beat up on a weekly basis. There’s a Mixed Martial Arts gym in this town, now, and the owner is using me to help get two of his fighters in shape. I discovered it through a Tae Kwon Do dojang in town. The owner introduced me to the MMA club. There’s not a lot of varied competition for them here, so they welcomed the chance to fight someone new, even if I am trained in a more traditional style. Both of them have matches at the end of the month. They fight in the WEC, which is like the minor leagues of the UFC. I’m learning how to ground fight, now, and then we spar standing up. I’ve held my own against one of the fighters just fine, but the other guy has rang my bell twice since we started. He did so once last week and then again tonight.
Right now, I’m licking my wounds, and my pride aches even more than my freshly scrambled brains. Granted, I haven’t sparred in two years, but I’ve kept in shape. Considering that I started training in September of 2003, and this fellow only been training for eight months, I’d like to be doing better against him. Tonight, he was wearing 12 oz boxing gloves while I wore 3 oz mitts, so that also factors into tonight’s outcome. Still, I’d at least like to finish out the round.
They’ve been very encouraging, saying I did a good job. Although, they probably assume that if they started berating me, I probably wouldn’t work with them anymore. I was also surprised at how well I’ve been able to endure leg kicks since I have no Muay Thai training. Even when they caught me on one leg, I haven’t lost my balance. I even caught the other guy (not the guy who’s throttled me two weeks in a row) in the throat with a spinning side kick. Fortunately, I didn’t have all my power behind it, but he spat out his mouth piece. It was cool. I almost did so again tonight, but I missed (or he weaved), and I merely grazed him. I could justifiably feel good about myself, if only my head didn’t feel like someone backed a bus over it.