Stories from the Mat

Never tell Andre and J3 you are cutting weight.

 

I made the mistake of telling two of my workmates in the publication office that I was cutting weight. What made my mistake worse was that I also divulged to these two that I was crash cutting weight. This made the task of making 60 keys harder because of their devious schemes.

 

I got a message from a fellow wrestler stating that coach wanted us to train for the upcoming competition. This was two weeks before the fight. The message was vague – at least for me. Who were the ones going to compete and when was the exact date of the competition? Coach said that the date was tentative, “Mejo magulo pa, may pasok na kasi mga bata.”

 

Two weeks and a few days into our training – 4 days before the competition, and 3 days before the weigh-ins – coach already had the green light for us to compete.

“Migo, sa 60 ka maglalaro,” Coach said.

“Yes, coach,” I said.

 

I was certain that I was walking around 133 pounds. My confidence was certainly wrong.

 

 

Day1, Wednesday

 

Mother is afraid of weighing scales so my only option to know my weight was at the school infirmary. I was confident that I was walking at around 133 – 135lbs.  

 

To my surprise, I was overweight by 10 pounds or 3.5 kilos. I said goodbye to a full meal that noon as panic started to grip my brain. To sweat the excess weight away, I trained and sparred that evening with three layers of clothing – a rash guard, a cotton shirt, and a hoody. I only had a glass of water for dinner.

 

Day2, Thursday

 

I tried to sweat off the remaining water by running for 30 minutes that morning.

 

No water, no food for breakfast.

 

Andre, J3, and I always eat lunch inside our office. Sometimes we bring “baon”, other times we buy food from the canteen. So when I wasn’t eating anything for lunch, they started to question me.

“May baon ka,” J3 asked.

“Wala,” I answered.

“Ah, bibili ka sa baba,” Andre added.

“Hinde,” I answered.

“kumain ka na ba,” they both asked.

“Hinde rin, nag-cucut ako.”

 

My tribulation towards making weight became interesting once the two found out.

 

Anything they could think of that would make my mouth water they did. They bought the things that I like eating like cakes, and the dishes that were lutong-bahay. They turned the AC on high so that the aroma of the food tickled my nose – the bastards.

 

I ran that night, and did some circuits. No water and no food.

 

Day3, Friday [The Weigh-ins]

 

My run that morning  aggravated how dry I felt: My skin was tight, and my throat was parched. I felt like a zombied-beef jerky.

 

And of course, J3 and Andre supported me the only way they knew how – they kept my mind on food, and on water.

 

“Migo, ang sarap nito,” J3 said as he waved a chocolate éclair in front of my nose.

It would have been in good faith, but the chocolate éclair that he was waving was given to the staff by a friend as a treat. Everyone – all ten that was inside the office – was eating éclairs, everyone except me.

 

The “kids” soon followed after J3 and Andre’s example.

“Kuya Migo, kain tayo. Ang sarap nito,” Von, our Business Manager, mockingly said.

 

 

Wushu Building; 6PM:

 

It was dark as we raced to the 3^rd floor of the building. All the energy that was left in my system was used in running that flight of stairs. I wanted the weigh-ins to end, and I wanted it to end quickly. As soon as I arrived in the wrestling area and saw coach, I stripped down to my underwear.

“Coach, weigh niyo na ko,” I told him.

“O eto, si Migo Limos, saktong 60,” the official told the person who was registering our names and our divisions.

 

The jug of iced-tea that I brought was gulped in less than a minute.