I'm sorry that it's been so long since I've posted. I have had this great post I have wanted to do, and I've been putting off writing it because I want it to be really good. Ultimately, I feared that it wouldn't be as good as it would have been a few years ago, but the more I thought about it, if posts were better back then, it's because I had so much less going on in my life. So, I'm just going to let this one rip, and if it's not as funny as it should be, so be it.
Here it is.
My roommate and I signed up for a gym package through an email coupon thing where we get 10 private/team training sessions for $48 total, and our first one was a mixed martial arts (MMA) class. This was exciting because I know that it's some of the toughest training in the world. Ex football players have started doing it and have said that what they did for pro football was nowhere near as demanding as MMA stuff. I also thought I'd be learning how to break arms, choke people, flying knees, spinning back kicks, liver punches, kidney punches, and all kinds of stuff. I did learn some things, but more about personality disorders than fighting.
The instructor came out, and he was immediately weird. If you met him at a party, you would know right away that he was a harmless guy, but he would get on your nerves, so you had better find another room to be in. That type of guy.
We started out with a lot of yoga poses that were actually really tough, and it was the hardest part of the class. Then he had us acting like various kinds of animals, circling around the mat. At this point, I had an open mind, thinking maybe it was like Mr. Miyagi, where you're painting the guy's fence and house, finishing his deck, but you just had to trust him that it would make you a karate master. That's where I was at until I was acting like my tenth animal, the class was nearly over, and I hadn't punched, kicked, or wrestled anyone.
It was a lot of sitting on the mat and learning stuff, which sucked because I wanted a workout. It was a lot of spiritual crappola and life lessons and lectures from a guy who looked to be five or six years younger than me. Yes, he was in really good shape, I'll say that for him. He could slowly move into a handstand and hold it, which is really tough, but while he would do things like that, he'd make really nerdy noises, like "zip, zip, zip!" He was totally socially awkward. At one point, while we're lying on the mat learning stuff, he says, "Would if I were to suddenly get Jenny into a full mount?" And as he says this, he rolls over and mounts my female roommate just above her waist as she's lying down. This was about 15 minutes into the session. He just met her a few minutes prior. He was also always making jokes that weren't at all funny and saying, "You guys need to lighten up!" I was doing a lot of smiling to make him feel better because he was zooming around the room making intense eye contact with everyone. He may have been on blow . . .
Finally, he has us on the floor doing some grappling, and I remember thinking it odd that he wasn't even watching us while we were doing it to tell us if we were doing things right. It turns out he was off chewing out two of his regular students. When he gets back from that, he puts them in front of everyone and says, "Everyone, I have a big problem today. I told Ron and Bill here to stop going so rough, kicking one another in a drill like this, and I tell you two to stop (Now looking right at these two. And yelling at them) and then I turn around, and you're doing it again! If you want to act like that, you can find another studio! You guys are supposed to be brothers! What have I told you is the whole theme of this month? Relationships. Where's the fucking relationship? You know what? That's it. I'm too upset. We're done for the day. Let's wrap it up."
We then did his bowing ritual thingy, and when he opens his eyes again, he's eerily calm . . .
"I'm sorry I let my temper get the better of me, and I'm sorry that I cursed. You just have to understand, this is my life." (I believed him) "And when I see shit like that" (cursing again) "it just upsets me greatly. Ken, Jenny, I'm sorry you had to see that . . ."
He then apologized and lectured for ten minutes, he cut the session that we all paid for by another ten minutes, and I feel like only the uncomfortableness gave me any kind of workout, somehow. Actually, I believe it was the chimpanzee movements that really hurt my ass for the next couple of days. So, I got an ass workout and a great story that would have been told greater a few years ago.
My roommate and I signed up for a gym package through an email coupon thing where we get 10 private/team training sessions for $48 total, and our first one was a mixed martial arts (MMA) class. This was exciting because I know that it's some of the toughest training in the world. Ex football players have started doing it and have said that what they did for pro football was nowhere near as demanding as MMA stuff. I also thought I'd be learning how to break arms, choke people, flying knees, spinning back kicks, liver punches, kidney punches, and all kinds of stuff. I did learn some things, but more about personality disorders than fighting.
We started out with a lot of yoga poses that were actually really tough, and it was the hardest part of the class. Then he had us acting like various kinds of animals, circling around the mat. At this point, I had an open mind, thinking maybe it was like Mr. Miyagi, where you're painting the guy's fence and house, finishing his deck, but you just had to trust him that it would make you a karate master. That's where I was at until I was acting like my tenth animal, the class was nearly over, and I hadn't punched, kicked, or wrestled anyone. 
Finally, he has us on the floor doing some grappling, and I remember thinking it odd that he wasn't even watching us while we were doing it to tell us if we were doing things right. It turns out he was off chewing out two of his regular students. When he gets back from that, he puts them in front of everyone and says, "Everyone, I have a big problem today. I told Ron and Bill here to stop going so rough, kicking one another in a drill like this, and I tell you two to stop (Now looking right at these two. And yelling at them) and then I turn around, and you're doing it again! If you want to act like that, you can find another studio! You guys are supposed to be brothers! What have I told you is the whole theme of this month? Relationships. Where's the fucking relationship? You know what? That's it. I'm too upset. We're done for the day. Let's wrap it up."
Quiton "Rampage" Jackson and "Sugar" Rashad Evans will finally do battle next weekend after a long wait because Rampage had to cancel the fight to get into his role as B.A. Baracus in the A Team movie. These two absolutely hate one another, and the war of words has been heated and constant over the past year. 
I never thought I'd find myself watching an Ultimate Fighting reality show, but I happen to be hooked on one right now. I believe I've only missed one episode so far. It doesn't sound up your alley? Maybe you'd change your mind after you heard the incredibly simple but effective concept:
There is one guy from Chicago who wears a speedo around the house, brings his pimp hat and pimp chalice wherever he goes, and decorates the house with his half-assed, found items, modern art sculptures. He also intended on making a raft out of hundreds of empty water bottles, but only got as far as throwing them all into the swimming pool. The other guys took all the bottles out and bitched him out about messing up the pool, so he threw all the bottles back in and never made the raft. He is totally annoying, but he's from Chicago, so he's my boy.
No booze, no women, no TV, and an annoying wanna-be-pimp-daddy makes a fighter go something, something . . . *
