Reminiscence: My first Muay Thai fight in Thailand

It is now 2017 and I am forty three years old. I do believe this entitles me to engage in some reminiscing of past experiences, achievements and how I negotiated previous developmental tasks and unresolved issues!

After an energizing pre-work muay thai training session this morning, I found myself thinking back to ‘them fighting days’ when I had a drive; a compelling urge to shut down some unhelpful inner voices that emanated from a very powerful internal self-critic, who perpetuated an ongoing sense of anxiety and dread that I would never be ‘good enough’.

That critic is still present, but much more regulated and controlled now. I would probably assess myself as more motivated now rather than driven. That is, I pursue my passions these days more ‘Harmoniously’ in that I do not feel dread and anxiety if other priorities need to be attended to, while in the past my passions were pursued more ‘Obsessionally’. I borrowed these two terms from passion researcher Robert Vallerand (at times I wonder if he passionately researches passion harmoniously or obsessionally!).

My experiences gained within the bounded, roped domain of the boxing ring have certainly helped with the above. The following is the second half of a piece I wrote for SA Martial Arts Newsletter a decade ago. Unfortunately I am unable to locate the first half but hope you enjoy it anyway.

The 2007 report:

.....My trainer Phu was initially cheerful after me accepting the fight, saying 'no problem! knock-out 2nd round!'. There was a quality to his accompanying smile that informed my intuition that his comment reflected less on his appreciation of any ability I may have, and more on how much money he may make from a fixed fight. You all may know that unfortunately, gambling is a prominent component of Muay Thai ring fights. In fact, speaking to some of the local punters revealed that many of them enjoy this very aspect much more so than the art itself. I was both disappointed and relieved from this intuitive understanding.

My 'relief' again was another form of those inner demons taking shape: "Cool, I fight a can (has been fighter), I win, case closed! It’s my first fight, I SHOULD have it easy...". Needless to say the disappointment stemmed from the notion that if I were to fight a 'can', what on earth was I achieving?? Nothing! I kept these thoughts to myself and slept very little that night.

The next day, I summoned the courage to ask Phu who my opponent was. There was a distinct change to his demeanour as he responded: "...out of my control. Don't know now." And that was all he had to say on the matter until the fight itself. Noum also came over, patted me on the back and said "you fight,you show heart, ok? Show heart!".

My inner voices as expected also changed, with the action-based one saying "YES! Now you get a decent opponent, and the test for you is real!", and the articulate justifiers/rationalisers keeping quiet but stirring up emotions of anxiety and self-doubt.Dave and I decided to relax a little ('RelakRelakRelak' as the trainers would put it), and travelled to Haad Rin beach (notorious for its monthly full moon parties) by long tail boat for food and internet access.

It was there that I saw posters of my fight: Julian (Australia) vs Phetnakon (Thailand): 70-75kg. Given that I weigh in at 62kg on a super-size me sort of day, this gave my inner demons a field day. It was then that I decided to go with the 'fuck it' voice, and it was a defining moment, the mechanisms of which I am at a total loss to explain.

My psychiatric colleagues may label it dissociation? I would disagree, as I was fully 'in the moment' so to speak, and for the 3 remaining days before the fight, slept as well as I had over the month, and even enjoyed soaking up the sun along the tourist-trampled beaches of Haad Rin and Haad Yuan. I even enjoyed a moment of mirth when a local tried to sell me tickets to my own fight! Needless to say I did no further training except for light stretching and working on my wai kru/ram muay, and kept myself well hydrated and nourished. The Americans, having fought in a number of both MMA and Muay Thai matches, were very helpful in giving words of advice and encouragement.

Fast forward to the night of the fight: Chorenrit stadium in Thongsala, the port town of the island. After surviving the boat/ute trip (road was a winding narrow dirt track, local driver was drunk on Thai Whiskey), we entered the outdoor stadium, which was composed of a central ring surrounded on two sides by seated rows, and by open space on the remaining 2 sides. The locals (a rowdy, fun and for most part alcohol-intoxicated crew betting wildly on the fights) generally populated the open area, with tourists filling the rows. I estimated the crowd to be somewhere around 200 to 250.While not near the same league as the electricity and mayhem of Lumpinee, the atmosphere was nonetheless overtly charged with a primal energy, fuelled continually by the controlled aggression and focus of the fighters, the excitement and screams from the crowd, and the intoxicating melodies emanating from the sarama.

This all permeated and mixed in with my emotions of excitement, anticipation and a return in part of fear and self doubt.I was informed by the promoter (a delightful English ex-pat named Scott) that I was to be the sixth of a seven fight card, so I had the opportunity to observe the preceding bouts.

Interestingly my fears while still present, took back stage to excited anticipation as I watched: the fights began with gutsy six to seven year olds giving it their all (no wonder they rack up hundreds of fights by their late teens), then 'progressed' to what appeared to be a grudge match between representatives of 2 feuding families: I kid you not the locals took up distinct sides on this one and almost spilled into the ring themselves! This bout, between 2 older men wearing Thai shorts, was the least technical (ended in knockout with a semi-hammer fist to nose) but in many ways was most entertaining. The remaining fights were high quality, with one brutal knee KO and another vicious TKO by elbow. All fights, including mine were 5 by 3 minute rounds.

During the fifth fight, I was prepared with a very vigorous massage and oiling down with boxing liniment by Jo. Whatever fears I had left were literally BURNED away by that liniment as it soaked its way through muscle to the very marrow! As I made my way to the ring, the locals blocked my path and started to speak to me in Thai-guess they mistook me (I’m of Chinese ethnicity) as one of 'their own' but curious as to why they hadn't seen me before. My trainers waved them off, saying 'not Thai, he not Thai!'

I finally entered the ring and saw my opponent, up until now a monstrous phantom of my imagination, for the first time. Phetnakon sported the typical build of a Thai boxer: lean with wiry, toned musculature and a cold expression signifying his readiness for business. He appeared to be in his late twenties, although this was difficult to tell. What was easily noticed however was his height! I am 5'7'', and atypical for the average Thai, he was close to 5'10/11''. I guess his height gave him the added weight indicated on the flyers. Visions of Diesel Noi Chor Thanasukarn and brutal flying knees crossed my mind, but again I remained firm and resolved. Well, I was in the ring now wasn't I??

After completing my wai kru, I began tentatively in the first round. Evidently, fear was still rippling through my body although my conscious mind had dispelled it. I was literally stung into action by a high round kick fired off by my opponent, which rammed into my forearms with the force of a heavily swung bat. This was followed by an attempted horizontal elbow. I knew now that I was in a fight, and all fear decisively left me. My clearest memory of that fight was less of the events and more of my experiential state: I remember not hearing the cracks and slaps of shins, knees and other body parts colliding, and not feeling any pain as adrenalin orchestrated its physiological magic. The sarama and noise of the crowd was heard only as a blanket of background noise, as were the frenetic screams of my corner-men.

As I returned to my corner between rounds, I initially attempted to listen to advice from my men Ba, Noum and Jo. However, their broken English was all but drowned out by the cacophonous mix of Thai and English, sober and drunk voices from the crowd-locals and tourists alike. There were no restrictions as to how close they could get to the fighter in the ring. I then decided to listen to the Americans' advice: "5 rules Julian: chin down, hands up, never look away from your opponent, stay relaxed and don't forget to breathe!"

As the later rounds got under way, a pattern emerged whereby I would attempt pummeling him with punch/kick combinations, while he attempted to destroy my guard with hard round kicks and blasted my ribs and kidneys with round knees in the clinch. I do recall witnessing the Angel of Death in the form of his right elbow, thrown with full body weight behind it, narrowly missing my face during a clinch in the third round. However I did capitalise on my fortune and caught him while off balance with a right hook, knocking him down to the canvas for a brief count. He was up and back into the fray immediately, but the knockdown certainly improved my confidence.

As the rounds progressed, I became aware of a certain type of pain: that of my lungs burning as they screamed out for oxygen yet singed from their efforts due to the unrelenting and unforgiving heat. THIS pain I had to push myself through, as in the fourth round whilst tied up in a corner, those demons again whispered "just knock me the fuck out so I can sleep and it’s over".I was able to again dispel them and continue. With the realization that I was likely to be behind on points given the number of knees he had landed on me in the clinch, I gave it everything I had in the final round. I managed to land not just one, but several solid shots to his jaw: crosses off his round kicks, and several consecutive right hooks which saw him do the chicken dance across the ring.

As my confidence soared, the final bell sounded and it WAS all over. Well, the fight was anyway. Exhilaration! Not much else I can say, as I had survived five hard rounds against my opponent, won his respect and that of the crowd, my camp and the opposing camp, and more importantly, won the internal battle within myself. I still have unconquered fears-of that there is no doubt, but those demons I specifically confronted in planning this entire trip were laid to rest.

For the curious, Phetnakon (who I learnt over a few friendly beers later-paid for of course with my 2000 baht earnings!-had over 30-50plus fights and now works as a trainer in a gym on Ko Samui) won the match on points, and although there was no pain for the duration of the contest, I woke up the next morning feeling as if I had been in a car accident: swollen legs, bruised left ribs and a horrible 'lumpy' feeling in my left kidney that thankfully resolved after a week or so.

I learnt so much more on this trip, and this would serve as ample material for another article. I do need to mention however the intensified appreciation I now have for professional fighters-this is their bread and butter, unlike for someone like myself who has the luxury of enjoying Muay Thai as an interest. I also humbled myself before their attitude to fighting: "win lose same same", i.e there is no ego, Muay Thai is a sport, and every sport has its wins and losses, which come and go indefinitely (tempted to insert a poetic metaphor here, but will restrain myself).

There you have it. That was eleven years ago, and I had two more bouts in Thailand and a final one in my hometown after that. Since those years, I have continued training however for very different purposes and intentions. While my competitive fighting days are over, I still believe that keeping the body in motion mobilizes life, which is a very nice antidote to stagnation and stasis. This last video shows edits of myself sparring with my current trainer Kym Johnson over the previous weeks. Stay active everyone!