Living
Every Fighter's Dream....
One man’s account of his journey to Thailand.
First in a series, written by Eric Rivera.
Its 5:45 am, I’m in the middle of a
fantastic dream, the details of which I struggle to recall because as so
often happens when we dream, the exact memories of it are immediately
shattered upon waking up. All I remember is that it was an incredible dream
where I was sitting comfortably at a fashionable table in a softly lit white
room while Jessica Alba served me ice cold milk and oven fresh chocolate
chip cookies, a fantasy I believe I share with many other heterosexual
males. Needless to say I was rather comfortable in my surreal rendezvous,
when said comfort was violently interrupted by the horrible cell phone alarm
clock I had set up the night before.
The ear shattering, far beyond annoying
tone that my cell phone uses as its alarm, is high pitched enough to make
even the deafest bloodhound come running. So as I wiped the sleep from eyes
and attempted to shake my head free of the very early morning brain fog, I
came to realize that this morning was going to be unlike any morning I had
ever experienced in my life. It was going to be the first morning of many
to come that would follow the exact same brutal routine.
It was barely light out and I could
already feel the intense heat from outside start to descend over my body and
begin to extract small beads of sweat from my forehead. The four rotating
fans in my room were set at full speed, yet they only succeeded in
delivering the hot air to my face faster than normal. Think of it as trying
to cool yourself off with a blow dryer. I succeed in waking up my roommate,
as an expression of utter morbid disgust and painful resignation that only
an early morning wake up can bring about, shoots across his face. We both
proceed to quickly throw on an old t-shirt, some shorts, and a pair of
running shoes.
We exit our second floor room of the
old house we now temporarily call home, stumble our way down the stairs, and
find that its permanent inhabitants are not only completely awake, smiling,
and ready to go, but also smiling at us, as if to say “here are another
couple of foreigners that have no idea what they are getting into”. They
speak to each other in their native tongue and my roommate and I, whom can
only identify maybe a handful of words, struggle to decipher what they are
talking about. I think they are probably saying, “Welcome to Thailand,
farang (a common term used to describe foreigners). You think you know Muay
Thai? Well, we are about to show you what its really all about.” Time to
grit my teeth and roll…
For all of us dedicated “nakmuays” (the
Thai term for boxer or student of Thai boxing), going to Thailand is a trip
that we have to make at least once in our lifetime. It’s a pilgrimage
similar to that of the Muslims to Mecca during Hajj. Of course, the
nakmuay’s journey to Thailand isn’t for religious purposes, even though the
journey does enlighten many a nakmuay spiritually and intellectually,
however the journey is more about allowing the nakmuay to understand where
the art we have come to hold so dear actually came from, the people behind
it, and especially the nation that helped create it.
My short, yet hopefully amusing and
entertaining anecdotes about my journey to one of the thousands of Muay Thai
camps throughout the Kingdom of Thailand, are only one man’s account of his
journey to this amazing Southeast Asian Kingdom. It’s my journey, it’s the
way I saw things, the things I loved, the things I learned, the emotions I
felt, and everything that will have me returning time and time again for
years to come. I may seem cynical, sarcastic, and even over exaggerated at
times, but its my style of describing things and I hope I can describe my
adventures well enough so that you will be able to share the experiences
that I had. My only goal is to inspire you to travel to this beautiful
place, adding more to your Muay Thai training by learning the true ins and
outs of Muay Thai from the nation and people for whom this is their national
sport.
…It’s 6:00 am now, and the sun begins
to slowly light the Bangkok sky and it’s getting hotter by the minute. My
roommate and I, join a handful of foreigners and local Thai boxers from our
gym on their morning run, which is the beginning of the grueling morning
training session. This morning routine is shared by more than 100,000 Thai
boxers from thousands of different camps throughout Thailand. As we begin
the 10-12 kilometer run, the distance varying based on how many foreigners
collapse from heat exhaustion during the run, we are already drenched in
sweat but so far maintaining pace with the Thais, mostly due to the fact
that my roommate and I trained before coming to Thailand. Think about that
for a minute, both my roommate and I actually had to train extensively in
order to be ready for the training in Thailand, I strongly urge you to take
note of that small indirect piece of free advice.
Running through the streets of the
Bangkok suburb of Talingchan, quickly introduces one to the daily rituals of
local Thai life. The scenery serves as a distraction from the heat, the
fatigue, and the burning sensation slowly tightening the muscles in my
calves. On our run, we pass local street food hawkers firing up large woks
in order to begin cooking Pad Thai, Fried Rice, and many other Thai
delicacies for Thais in need of a quick morning snack before heading off to
work. Buddhist Monks are out and about in their saffron colored robes
offering blessings to local Thais in exchange for food and money donations.
Motorcycle taxis zoom about the city streets with Thai businesswomen dressed
in their European style suits, side straddling the motorcycle seat and
holding on for dear life. Local fruit vendors sell fresh fruit from
pushcarts, yelling out prices to potential customers. We run past a 7-11
and I desperately want to stop for some water and food, as we all began this
run on an empty stomach.
By now, most of the foreigners and I,
save a few who have been living at the camp for a couple of months and are
used to the routine, are falling so far behind the Thais that we can no
longer see what direction they have taken. So after about 4 miles we decide
to head back to the gym and get ready for the morning training session, as
this is just the warm up. Upon arrival at the gym, we quickly get out of
our running shoes; splash some water on our faces, put on a pair of Muay
Thai shorts, and wrap up our hands.
7:00 am. The first order of training
consists of shadow boxing, which to the Thai is an integral part of their
training. 30 minutes or more are spent on shadow boxing alone; as the Thai
believe that this is important for perfecting their technique. While the
majority of the boxers worked on their shadow boxing, five or six Thai
trainers equipped with Muay Thai pads, a belly pad, and shin pads, worked 5
x 5 minute rounds in the ring with one fighter on an individual basis. As
one fighter finished another would enter the ring to work with a Thai
trainer.
The Thai pad holders are the most
brutal individuals when it comes to training people, as most of the time
they expect the foreigners to keep up with the pace of the Thais. The Thais
were usually able to get through 5 x 5 minute rounds, barely looking
fatigued. Most of the foreigners, even those at the professional level had
a hard time getting through 5 x 5 minute rounds without looking like they
wanted to vomit, and well it goes without saying that some do. Some leave
the ring and simply decide that training is over for the day, for the week,
and well…maybe even for the rest of the “vacation”.
I witnessed more than a couple of brave
tourists try to endure one training session in the hopes of telling people
back home they trained like a real Muay Thai fighter; only to leave the ring
a quarter of the way through the training, gushing sweat like a broken New
Orleans levee, eyes as wide and white as dinner plates, and grimaces of
extreme pain etched on their faces. In reality I think my body went through
similar reactions for about the first week of training. The Thai pace is
quite different from the way many train in the United States. The Thais do
most every movement at full speed, full power, constantly. There is no
feinting or pacing yourself on the Thai Pads with theses guys. Full force,
full power, all the time. The Thais expect as much, and when one of the
local Thais is getting ready for a fight he better be able to go a lot more
than the standard 5 x 5 minute round. The more experienced Thais will
usually do about 10 to 12 rounds, each 5 minutes in length.
Once this portion of the training is
completed we were all expected to do 30-45 minutes of clinching or neck
wrestling, which with a Thai boxer, is like wrestling an octopus with stone
tentacles hell bent on decapitating you with the sheer force of its limbs.
I can only describe the excruciating pain I felt in my neck after this
forced neck cranking session, as being similar to the pain one must feel
after a 72 hour head banging mosh pit session at a marathon Metallica
concert, followed by a rear end collision in excess of 50 miles per hour.
Adding insult to injury, the morning training session is topped off with
either technical sparring or 300 knees on a larger than normal tear drop
shaped bag.
So that was training session number one
for the day, which we were told is the lighter training session of the day
as the afternoon session is supposed to be “quite a bit” harder. After one
of the more experienced foreign guests of the gym shared this little tidbit
of information with me, I slowly gathered my things, took a quick shower by
pouring buckets of water over myself from the traditional Thai shower a.k.a.
large rain water barrel, collapsed on my bed in my 108 degree room, and
thought “Welcome to Thailand, Farang. Welcome to Kaewsamrit Gym.”
