Caged

It was a Saturday afternoon, and I was in a cage with eight other boys. It wasn't how I usually spend my Saturday afternoons. I fancy myself a member of the culturati, wandering and wondering alone, imagining myself a Parisian, with my Bohemian sensitivity to what is art and its negation, as I haunt cafes with my Penguin Modern Classic paperback, a stylish scarf in my bag for the probability of an afternoon drizzle.

But there I was, barefoot and dripping sweat, pushing my weight against Lyle. The look in his eyes told me I should be wary of Lyle. He looked like he could break my neck  if provoked, and would Instagram it afterwards.

So, how did I end up signing for this? Oh, yeah. Steve Patrick.

I met Steve Patrick in one of our events. He was our host for a series of shows in Dagupan. He speaks in a deep bass that sounds like it belong to a much older, more experienced gentleman. When I close my eyes listening to him do the voice overs, I could picture him with a full grown moustache, twirled at the edges, like Daniel Day-Lewis in "There Will Be Blood", except much younger. Together with his towering height of six feet, Steve Patrick's presence isn't one of subtle grace. He is a tank, and I am afraid of him.

He is also into mixed martial arts.

Friday afternoon, I got a text message from Trish. Trish works in Extreme, one of the three gyms that I go to. How I ended up going to three different gyms is another story altogether. Trish would send me messages about Extreme's promos. This week, they were holding a special "MMA BOOTCAMP", and the first session is FREE TO TRY. I immediately signed-up.

Come on. It was a free chance to get pounded on my sweaty strangers inside a cage. Can you blame me?

The Bootcamp was conducted by Coach Mel. He had us do drills to warm up. What accounts as "warm up" for Coach Mel was a series of exercises that almost killed me. It was a very humbling experience, and as The Siege Malvar, humbling experiences come very few and far between.

My favorite was The Bear Crawl. Basically, we crawled around the cage like a bear. If that sounds like fun, or easy, you should try it. It engages the core, the upper, and the lower body. It's a walk in the park. For bears. But as someone who makes a living writing flyers to sell dishwashing liquid, it was pretty challenging. He made us do several sets of Burpees, and Squat Jumps, and Wheelbarrows (to strenghten the wrist).

"Now for the first lesson," he began.

I was like, "YOU MEAN WE HAVEN'T STARTED YET?" Which was promptly ignored, considering what credibility I had, squeking like a mouse on the floor, barely able to hold myself up.

That afternoon, I learned how to shoot. Which is an attack move in wrestling. I also learned how to sprawl. A defensive move to avoid your opponent from grabbing your legs. I also learned how to get out of an underhook.

Before the session ended, he had us matched against each other. Fighter to get the opponent in a double underhook--or a bear hug-- for three seconds win.

I lost to Lyle. On hindsight, I should have fought harder. I faced him expecting to lose. It was my first time, and he had been training. I believed I would lose, and I did. But what if I didn't? What if I believed, from the core of my black heart, that I stood a chance? That if I blocked out all my insecurities, and my consciousness of people watching, that I really stood a chance?

I want to find out. I want to know just how hard I can fight. I want to experience not just the thrill of fighting, but of winning. I want to be good at it. Maybe not good enough to compete, or to save my life when it comes to an actual street fight. But I want to win a fight. Just one, little skirmish, I want to win a fight for a change.

So I'm coming back next week. I'll train again. I'll do what Coach Mel will tell me to do, and  I will believe that I can do it. Because I want to win. I want to know how it feels like to win.

Standing next to Steve Patrick is not fair.