Which kick do you throw?
When most people start training Muay Thai, they have a noticeably dominant leg. If you’re right-handed, you’re probably right-legged and vice-versa. For me though, the contrast between the two is nothing short of comical. To the degree that my instructor called my right kick “brutal” and my left “garbage.” If I squatted down and punched him in the thigh like I was playing Charley horse, it would’ve hurt him more.
It’s something to think about when I’m in front of the heavy bag. Which kick do I throw? Not necessarily consciously or overtly. It’s like the feeling you get when someone adds 4 plates to the bar every time they alternate sets with you, or when the guy on the next treadmill is running twice as fast–on an incline. How do you respond to it? Keep the plates on and cheat out the reps? Ruin your pace and stop early? After all, most people prefer validation over embarrassment. And that’s just what my left kick, and really most everything I do in MMA is right now–embarrassing. But I’ve gone from 100% helpless to 95 in the past couple months, because I’ve let some of that embarrassment get literally beaten out of me:
- If you can’t defend the other guy’s strikes correctly, it doesn’t matter that yours are twice as strong. You’re the one getting knocked out.
- If you can’t leverage your strength to take someone down properly, it doesn’t matter that you can deadlift 400 pounds.
- If you neglect basic posture and get caught in a painful choke, it doesn’t matter that you know complex submissions.
(That last one: I lost my base so badly I couldn’t even tap. He had ahold of one wrist and the other hand was pinned down. When this is the case, you usually try and tap verbally, by saying “tap” or “stop” or whatever. But try doing that with a shin crushing your windpipe. “TLAGH!” Yeah, that was fun.)
It’s the decision between a fixed or a growth-oriented mindset, and along the way, you start to notice the distinction. In other people, in yourself. Some guys just want to work on the fun stuff, and others are busy shoveling coal–doing the repetitive, exhaustive work that’s necessary to become a complete fighter. MMA can be seen roughly as a combination of 3 different phases–stand-up, clinch and ground–that are each represented by a multitude of sports that people have devoted their entire lives to. Although it’s quickly evolving into more of a unified discipline, there will always be gaps to fill and seams to weld.
So would you rather do what you’re good at, or do what you’re bad at?




{ 3 comments… read them below or add one }
Starting Jiu-Jitsu next month. Trying to get prepared for it mentally and physically. It’s gonna be nuts!
Tim Ferris recomended learning Jiu-Jitsu, then wrestling then boxing/Muay Thai in that order. You agree?
I’m not really qualified to answer that, Tim knows a lot more than me. I just kind of took it up all at once.
As far as competitive MMA, take the examples of winning teams like Lion’s Den, Miletich or Quest or standouts like Rampage, Urijah Faber and Sakuraba. A strong wrestling background is common among elite level fighters and in the US is pretty much the standard. Polished striking is a great crowd pleaser and submission game is crucial if not just for defense/stAlling (but absolutely boring to those who don’t know what they’re watching) but wrestling seems to be the base for a strong MMA game.
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