For as long as I can remember I’ve admired warriors from all walks of life. As a child I loved staging elaborate fight scenes on my bedroom floor with action figures from various movies and fables. Of course, like most young boys I aspired to be like Batman, Superman or any other muscle-bound hero that fought for justice. I would spend sunny days outside with my friends fighting with sticks, wrestling and chasing each other around.
As I entered my teen years, my fascination with battle became tarnished by a fear of real-life combat. Although I wasn’t marching into battle with a broadsword like my childhood heroes; I was sometimes bullied through the hallways of middle-school. My parents always taught me to avoid confrontations and encouraged me to tell the teacher if I was being bullied. I had never learned how to physically defend myself and I was terrified to be put into a situation where I would have to fight. Fearing conflict and wanting to listen to my parents, I learned to successfully deescalate most situations. I didn’t realize at the time that continually backing down from confrontations was taking a detrimental toll on my self-image. As I grew into my adolescence I had developed deep rooted insecurities; not just about self defense, but about getting what I wanted out of life. I was fairly well-liked amongst my peers but internally I felt like I was missing something. When I would concede just to avoid fights my spirit was overcome with shame; further reenforcing my belief that I was weaker than my peers both mentally and physically. I used to think that I felt more fear than other people, that I was born weak and there was nothing I could do about it. I was funny and largely got by through comedy. My friends thought it was funny how I “threw like a girl” and “ran like a spaz” and each time I would laugh along with them I felt my pride sinking deeper, unaware of how much it would hinder my growth.
Once I started high school, fights became a regular occurrence. Most of these fights were stupid and should have been solved with a discussion, but there was always a part of me that admired the kids who were brave enough to show that picking on them came with severe consequences. I would regularly play scenarios in my head of how things might go if I got into a fight. I would imagine what it felt like to hit someone, wonder if I could take a punch and panic with the realization that I didn’t even know how to throw a punch. The thought of fighting terrified me, but part of me knew that it had been calling my name since childhood.
As I entered my adulthood I became exhausted by my own insecurities. My late teens and early 20’s were plagued by mental health problems that almost exclusively stemmed from my lack of self-belief. I was sick of feeling like I had to back down from disagreements, and I couldn’t stand myself for being so fearful in regular settings like bars, concerts or parties. After living with that fear for most of my life, I had convinced myself that I was unathletic and cowardly. I wouldn’t outwardly admit this to anyone, but instead hid my fears behind inebriation and deflective comedy. The fear and self-doubt had gone far beyond the realm of combat and had diminished my will for any pursuit that I had in life. My reality became gray and I had no dreams or aspirations. I became bitter with other people my age. At college I would see people passionately pursuing their goals and I loathed them for their honest effort. All I wanted to do was numb myself and slide further into the image of failure that had been etched into my psyche. I avoided taking responsibility for my problems and took various medications to dull my “depression”. I’m thankful that our society is more accepting of mental health issues these days, however in hindsight what I had perceived as mental illness was just mental weakness. At the time, I didn’t realize that mentality is like a muscle; it can be conditioned and strengthened. In my head I was a victim of the circumstances around me and used my mental state as a scapegoat for my lack of motivation.
When I turned 23, I decided that I wanted to become involved in martial arts. I loved watching mixed martial arts and desperately wanted to learn to defend myself. I have a vivid memory of my 23rd birthday, going out to drink with my friends. I expressed my interest to my friends and they literally laughed at me. I shrugged it off and joked with them, but I still think about that moment today. It showed me that I had developed into someone who not only lacked self-belief, but failed to earn the belief of the people who loved me. My family didn’t outwardly mock me, but had similar reservations about my new interest. Despite their skepticism, I woke up the next day and called Precision Boxing and MMA to inquire about membership.
It was a tough adjustment for me. Having never played a sport before, I was slower and significantly less coordinated than most people. I thought that my lack of athletic experience would hold me back, and it did to a degree. However, the biggest hurdle that I had to conquer was remolding my mentality. A lifetime of counting myself out and believing that I was less capable than others was the biggest deterrent towards my progression as a martial artist and as a person. For the first time in my life I was willing to work towards a goal and I wanted to make sure that I didn’t let myself down.
I loved training and spent time practicing Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, boxing and Muay Thai. I was pleased to see my physique changing; I was still slim but quickly became more muscular than ever before. I wanted to become a better athlete to support my martial arts dreams. The more I trained, the further that my life shifted towards martial arts. I began sacrificing time with friends and family to train, I stopped drinking alcohol altogether and gave more attention to my diet and sleep habits. I quit the bands that I played in and removed myself from other recreational activities to allow myself more training time. Running and calisthenics became a regular part of my life. I got a job working at my gym and I moved to a new apartment just fifteen minutes away from Precision.
After a few years, I felt like I had gained some real skill. I had seen my friends fight countless times and was always enamored by their courage and dedication to their craft. I had wanted to fight forever, but I wouldn’t even admit it to myself out of fear of failure. My boxing coach expressed to me that I was looking sharp and there was a USA boxing event coming up if I was interested. I was terrified but knew that it was time to push myself out of my comfort zone. I made sure to never miss a session and did everything that my coach asked of me. The fight was in Albany, roughly an hour and a half from where I live and train. My coach Jon drove me and my nerves increased as we got closer. As we were warming up an official came over and informed us that my opponent didn’t get medically cleared and my bout was cancelled. They tried to find me a replacement but unfortunately were unable to do so. I was simultaneously disappointed and relieved.
A few months later, I was scheduled for another bout. After a month or so of preparation, it was cancelled due to COVID-19. Although frustrated, I continued training and enjoying the martial arts life. This past April, my coach approached me with another boxing opportunity. He said that USA boxing is running shows again and I would be able to fight on July 24th if I so desired. I agreed and instantly felt my stomach fill with butterflies. After preparing for two cancelled bouts, I had a decent grasp on what I needed to do. The fight became my sole focus in life. Everything else took a back seat. I made sure that I cooked all my own meals, got a minimum of 8 hours of sleep per night and never missed a session. When I wasn’t training with my team mates and coaches, I was running, doing sprints or hitting the bag. Every morning before I had to work I would sit outside and visualize landing my favorite combos, sticking and moving and getting my hand raised. The physical preparation was tough, but slaying the mental demons was tougher. I would have hard days in sparring where I wouldn’t win a round and the voices of my childhood would fill my head with doubt. I didn’t know who I was going to be fighting so I would imagine all sorts of imposing opponents staring at me from across the ring. The scared teenager in my head would tell me that I should quit, that I’m going to embarrass myself, that I can’t do it. Truthfully, that was my biggest fear. I wasn’t too worried about getting hurt, I was just concerned about making myself proud. Self-esteem has been a scarce commodity in my life and this was an opportunity to prove to myself that I can do anything if I put in the work. I knew I could box, I just hoped I could do it under pressure with everyone watching. Week after week I would keep training, pushing myself harder than ever before. I missed family dinners, barbecues, birthdays and other celebrations to make sure I got a good nights sleep before training. Sometimes before going to bed I would get fight jitters and I’d have to go for a run or do a few rounds of shadowboxing to calm the fear in my head. In the weeks leading up to the fight I copied “Thug” Rose Namajunas and would audibly tell myself “I’m the best, I’m the best, I’m the best”. I would recall moments from my past where I told myself that I can’t do something or that I didn’t deserve something, and remind myself that I’m no longer that person. Once fight day arrived I knew that nobody was going to take this victory from me. I knew that I had earned it, I believed in my preparation.
The event was held at a boxing club in Schenectady, New York. I drove down with my two striking coaches Karl and Jon as well as my teammate Chris who was also fighting. Chris and I exchanged nervous glances during the car ride as Jon and Karl kept reassuring us and cracking jokes. It felt good going into battle with people who I love and trust. Jon and Karl have been helping me from my first day in the gym and I’ve probably sparred over a thousand rounds with Chris over the years. Chris found the matchup card and showed me that I’m fighting 8th and he’s fighting 9th. My coach Jon starts to wrap my hands as I try to hide my increasing nerves. Fear is a funny thing; it crashes like the waves of an unruly sea and then disappears as if a breeze whisked the storm away. When I would feel the waves of fear crashing, I found myself singing James Brown’s “The Boss” under my breath. I would shadowbox muttering, “Paid the cost to be the boss, paid the cost to be the boss”. It was a silly mantra to calm myself down, but those words held weight to me. I had paid the cost, I had sacrificed a lot, working as hard as I could every day leading up to this moment. Now it was time to make my dream a reality.
As they were putting my gloves on, my heart began pounding. I went back to my internal mantras; JB assuring me that I have indeed paid the cost to be the boss. Determined to hide my fear, I made sure to keep my eyes locked on my opponent from the moment he stepped into his corner. The ref walked us to the center of the ring and we locked eyes. This was my battleground and he was the enemy. I could tell that his intensity didn’t match mine and knew that I had to set a precedent of aggression right away. We go back to our corners, absorbing a momentary calm before the siege. The bell rings and I immediately take the center of the ring. We engage in a frenzied fire fight and I was able to connect with a few punches. I got out of position for a moment and ate a right hand for my carelessness. From there I gained some clarity and was able to make some space. I land a stiff jab, then another; snapping his head back. After landing a couple of hard uppercuts, the referee steps in to give my opponent a standing eight count. He still looked game, so the referee let us continue. I come forward aggressively again; landing jabs and check hooks, avoiding his right hand. He starts to duck my jab so I time another uppercut followed by a hard overhand left. He stumbles backwards, and I felt like the end was near. I land a hard cross against the ropes and the referee steps in to stop the fight. I raise my hand and instantly became overwhelmed with emotion. The dichotomy between the elation of achieving my goal and the guilt of harming someone was strange. I was overjoyed that I had successfully won a fight with a first round finish, yet I couldn’t help but feel sorry for my opponent. He wanted the same thing as me and I truly hope that he gets to feel the joy of victory and achievement that I was able to experience this weekend.
The only feeling that topped my victory was standing ringside to watch my friend Chris put on an even more impressive performance than I did. Chris fought a super tough boxer and faced some serious adversity in the first round. He made amazing adjustments and really put it on his opponent in the second and third rounds; securing a hard fought and exciting decision victory. Sharing such a pivotal moment in my life with the people who helped me learn to box is something that I’ll never forget. The win was great, but the effort that I put in leading up to the fight is my biggest accomplishment. I’ve proved to myself, my team, my friends and family that hard work truly pays off. I’m thankful for the people around me, thankful for the experience and thankful that I was willing to bet on myself and overcome my fear of failure.
Although hand to hand combat was the center of my insecurities, I can take these lessons and apply them to any mountain that I need to overcome in my life. I’ve known that I can box for years now, but I proved to myself that I’m capable of anything if I put forth an honest effort. I always focused on the physical attributes that I was lacking, however mental strength has been the true catalyst in my quest for self esteem. Pushing through tough moments, showing up every day regardless of how you feel; these are the keys to victory. If you’re willing to pay the cost, you’re very likely to see yourself become the boss.
Want to make your boxing and MMA dreams a reality? Come check out Precision Boxing and MMA, the Hudson Valley’s #1 source for Boxing, Brazilian Jiu Jitsu, Muay Thai, MMA and Self Defense. Give us a call today at (845)392-8495 or click HERE!
About the Author
Oliver Swanson is a NASM certified personal trainer and amateur boxer fighting out of Precision Boxing and MMA in Poughkeepsie. He coaches boxing classes throughout the week and practices Brazilian Jiu Jitsu and Muay Thai in his spare time. When he’s not on the mats, he loves to spend time with his family, practices playing guitar or hikes the beautiful Hudson Valley.
