Article written by Tim "The Bohemian" Lajcik - Sherdog Record
Law #1: Conditioning is an offensive weapon.
While most fighters are content to attain a level of fitness that enables them to go the distance in a fight, you must approach training with the conviction that conditioning will become your most potent weapon. It’s not enough to simply “last”, you must train to dominate, preparing mentally and physically to maintain a level of intensity and relentlessness that your opponent is unable or unwilling to sustain. From a conditioning standpoint, make it your objective to push your opponent to the point where he wants out of the fight just as badly as you want to take him out. At that moment he begins fighting two people, you and himself, and usually succumbs to defeat soon thereafter.
In some of the Laws that follow I will give a general outline of the type and progression of training necessary to reach the level of conditioning I’m describing. Certainly it doesn’t come easily. Still, if the degree of physical and mental intensity I’m suggesting seems out of your grasp, try thinking in these terms:
In each exchange, flurry or scramble for position you need only persist 2-3 seconds longer than your opponent.
When striking from the feet, that means throwing the last punch or kick in each exchange. When grappling, execute the last counter in every flurry or out-hustle your opponent by 2-3 seconds in each scramble for position. Two to three seconds. Consciously make the commitment to that “throw the last punch” mentality and your body will begin to follow.
Law #3: In training, as in competition, you must frequently thrust into pain.
As you approach extreme levels of physical exertion your body will naturally send a sensation of discomfort to your brain in an effort to convince you to slow down. Your body is geared towards homeostasis and prefers to stay within the parameters of moderate exertion. If you become anxious and reflexively pull back every time you experience the pain of fatigue, you will never actualize your potential as a fighter. Understand that your body’s capacity is always greater than your mind is initially willing to concede.
Take this example. Many years ago I read an article in a powerlifting magazine extolling the benefits of a weight training routine centered around a twenty-repetition set of squats. The author suggested loading the bar with a weight that would normally be a challenge for ten reps, then squat it twenty times. The first time I read this idea I naturally resisted accepting it, thinking “if I can only squat a given weight ten times, how can I expect to squat the same weight for twenty repetitions?” In the end, though, I decided to suspend logic and commit myself to this twenty-rep principle. Here’s what happened:
I loaded the bar with 455 pounds, a weight that was typically a challenge for me to complete ten repetitions. Before taking the bar onto my shoulders I resolved I would perform twenty reps, fixing that goal in my mind. I grasped the bar, touched my forehead to the center knurling, took a deep breath, positioned myself under bar, then lifted it from the rack. Absolutely focused on the destination of twenty I completed the first ten deep squats
rather mechanically without any real strain. My legs and back still feeling strong, I remained resolute as I entered uncharted territory, methodically completing another four repetitions before I began to feel fatigue. The next three reps required great concentration. I took them one at a time, reaffirming my resolve for the next squat at the completion of the previous one. After the seventeenth rep my hands were numb and my thighs began to shake. I was too close, however, and quitting was not even a remote consideration. I entered another realm, one I’ve since revisited many times in training and competition. I let go and simply allowed myself to be pulled towards my goal. Not only did I accept the pain of fatigue, with something akin to rapture, I thrust myself into it…18…19… then 20!
The body itself may require only a few of months of hard training to get fit. The rest of the time you’re building your spirit- your guts- so that they’ll work for you in a fight without your thinking about it.
Law #4: Balance training with recovery.
As a young athlete I was so intent on becoming a champion that I’d roll off my mattress every morning at 5:30 a.m. and immediately begin doing push-ups. After 500 push-ups, 500 sit-ups and 200 pull-ups, I’d run the first of the day’s three 3-mile runs. In the evening after wrestling or football practice or competitions, I’d lift heavy weights for two hours. I was under the mistaken impression that if some training was good, then more training was always better. Clearly, in training there comes a point of diminishing, or even negative, returns. Strength and conditioning can only improve after sufficient rest and recuperation allows the body to adapt to your workouts. Looking back on those eight-hour training days it occurs to me that at least some of my athletic success was achieved in spite of my excessive training, rather than because of it. The combination of excessive training volume and intensity results in a condition known in exercise science as “over-training”. Simply, you can train hard and you can train long, but you can’t do both without running a great risk of over-training. The symptoms associated with over-training can include fatigue, loss of appetite and muscle mass, chronic soreness, anxiety, elevated resting heart rate and impaired immune function. By my late-twenties I was less capable of recovering from my previous marathon training sessions. Under the guidance of my boxing trainer, Eugene Ray, I grudgingly reduced the hours I spent training, began mixing easier “recovery” days in with the intense workouts and made certain to get 8 hours of sleep each night. Mr. Ray was also adamant that I take one day completely off from training every week. On Sundays (my designated day off) he’d call me at random times throughout the day to make sure I hadn’t snuck out for a run in the hills. I discovered, to my surprise, that cutting my previous training volume nearly in half, incorporating rest days, and following a progressive, periodized training regimen (as outlined in Law #3) enabled my strength and conditioning to reach new heights.
It’s important to note that no pre-determined training program is perfect. I’ve learned to pay attention to my body and its capacity to train on any given day. When I’m in the midst of a training cycle I consistently note my resting pulse rate and check my weight each morning upon waking. When I’m in good shape my resting heart rate is generally between 38-42 beats per minute. I check my weight to make certain that I’m not dehydrated, a condition that can elevate my resting heart rate. If my resting pulse upon waking is 50 or more beats per minute, and my weight is within 1% of my bodyweight from the previous morning (indicating I’m sufficiently hydrated), then I know I haven’t sufficiently recovered from my previous workout.
On those days when I awaken well-hydrated, but my resting heart rate is elevated I make certain not to train too intensely. For most serious athletes, especially fighters training for a bout, allowing for sufficient recovery is extraordinarily difficult. The practices of checking your resting heart rate and body weight provide useful and objective criteria for determining whether your body is ready for an intense scheduled workout.
Law #8: Never underestimate your opponent.
I’ll keep this short. Always expect your opponent to be damned tough and prepare yourself accordingly. It is always better to bring your absolute best to a fight and find that it’s more than enough, than to give less than your utmost and discover that it’s too little. When victory is at stake you owe your best effort. Anything less is disrespectful to both your opponent and yourself.
Law #9: Disregard your opponent’s reputation or ranking.
While it’s certainly a mistake to underestimate a rival, it’s equally important not to succumb to intimidation when facing an opponent with impressive credentials. As you develop and move up the pecking order as a fighter it’s likely and completely desirable that you’ll encounter a higher level of competition. You’ll face fighters you’ve read about, seen on television, perhaps even those that you’ve admired and sought to emulate.
Listen, fighting a good opponent is difficult enough. Don’t compound the difficulty by battling the opponent and his lofty reputation. Focusing excessively on your opponent’s past accomplishments usually leads to one or more of the following responses:
1. You convince yourself you can’t win, in which case you almost assuredly won’t. 2. You convince yourself that you can only win by doing something extraordinary, so you attempt techniques you’re not familiar with or force ill-timed or exaggerated techniques out of desperation. 3. While in the fight you spend more time watching your opponent than fighting him. Enthralled with his reputed skill you watch and wonder what he’s going to do next. Instead of making your opponent deal with you, you become entirely reactive or, worse, passive.
Every true champion has reached his position by beating a champion. The process is no different for you. Rather than allowing a phantom factor like “reputation” influence the fight’s outcome, remind yourself to fight your opponent’s body, not his name. By doing so you’ll avoid distraction and self-doubt and simply focus your every fiber on defeating the man in front of you.
Law #10: Erase self-doubt.
Never discount the power of your thoughts. Pre-fight anxiety and self-doubt can make you feel as though you’ve fought three fights before the actual bout ever begins. Adequate preparation will prevent many potential uncertainties and worries, but oftentimes a few nagging doubts persist. I’ve found it helpful to adopt the following pre-fight ritual to assuage those lingering fears.
A few hours before a fight I’ll sit alone and quietly reflect on all the reasons I might have for giving a less-than-peak performance. The twinge of pain in my shoulder, the three days of training I missed because the flu, the pressure of other people’s expectations- every negative thought that enters my mind; I acknowledge and mentally take note of each one. Eyes closed, I vividly imagine writing each and every defeatist thought on a sheet of paper. When I’ve completed my “list” I review it once more to make certain I haven’t overlooked any situation or condition, real or imagined, that might potentially undermine my performance. In my mind every negative factor leading to the fight is there on that paper in black and white. Then, I imagine crumpling up the list in my hands and throwing it into a fire. I watch as it burns and the negative thoughts go up in smoke. They’re gone, the emergency brake of self-doubt gets released, and my conviction to win becomes absolute.
This practice of mentally imagery has consistently helped me perform at a high level in situations where circumstances were less than ideal, including wrestling in the NCAA
Championships days after extensive facial surgery, and competing in the Ultimate Fighting Championship two weeks after an emergency appendectomy. Combining psychological preparation with physical training will help make even your “bad” days better than most fighters’ good ones.
Law #11: Don’t become a victim of your own strategy.
The idea in competition is to soar above the common herd of fighters by virtue of superior skill, conditioning, will and confidence. Excessive reliance on a pre-fight strategy often indicates a lack of real confidence in your abilities and training. Adhering too rigidly to a plan of tactics based on your opponent’s strengths can be problematic for at least a few reasons.
First, if your strategy is geared to exploiting a specific facet of your opponent’s skill set, you may find yourself in a waiting game- watching, waiting for a specific action or response from your opponent that may never come. In the meantime your opponent dictates the course of the fight. Also, if your rival changes his attack and you are too slow, or unwilling to adapt, your now-obsolete strategy may become your undoing. You’re better off forcing your opponent to deal with you.
Practice your techniques to the point where they each become a conditioned response to a stimulus. Don’t intellectualize during a fight. Trust your training, your instincts and the input of the people in your corner between rounds. They should know your strengths and limitations and serve as an extra set of eyes.
Law #12: Training is a long, arduous process. Appreciate and enjoy the process.
Get the most out of your experience as a fighter. I’ve spent a lot of summers climbing peaks in the Sierra Nevada. One thing my experience in the high-country has taught me is that a disproportionately long time is spent ascending and descending the mountain as compared to the 20 minutes or so spent at the summit- just long enough to take in the glorious view before the early afternoon thunderheads roll in and it’s time to scramble back down. The time atop the mountain is so fleeting that it’s important to fully appreciate the hike up and back from the summit. Similarly, the euphoria after a victory is relatively short-lived compared to the months and years dedicated
to preparation. Be present and savor the journey.
In my nearly thirty years in combative sports I’ve experienced a handful of profoundly satisfying victories. What resonates most after all the battles and grueling workouts, though, are the relationships I’ve developed with training partners, coaches and fellow competitors, and the self-knowledge I’ve gleaned through challenging myself. Certainly it’s useful and desirable to keep your goals in sight. At the same time, however, the patient and persistent journey towards excellence yields an enormous measure of meaning and satisfaction. Remember that success should never be measured solely in terms of victories or titles, but also to the extent you enjoy what you’re doing and the degree to which you are striving to do your best.
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