When Size Doesn’t Matter

I’ve been practicing Muay Thai off and on for over 10 years. It’s a pretty brutal sport. It’s called the art of eight limbs, in reference to the fact that the combatants are encouraged to beat each other with two fists, two elbows, two knees and two legs.

With Thai fighter and trainer, Saenganun Yai Lookbanyai

There’s even a pecking order for the beatings. Traditionally, judges score knees over kicks, kicks over elbows, and elbows over punches. Kneeing someone in the abdominal organs is more valuable than punching someone in the nose. Having experienced both, I can confirm.

I train at Diamond Muay Thai in Toronto, which is owned and run by an amazing couple, Tony and Ashli. As I understand it, these two bonded while training in Australia under Muay Thai legend John Wayne Parr. He was one of the first westerners to become a star in Thailand.

Tony and Ashli personify one of the coolest aspects of Muay Thai, which is the community. Within the gym, and even among different gyms, there is a lot of social unity and respect. The Diamond family trains together, competes together and eats together. Just about anybody who wants to join is welcome.

Here in Toronto, most of the people I train with have serious day jobs. One manages the merchandise for a luxury car brand, one writes computer code, one consults on commercial espresso machines, and another just launched his own crypto currency.

In Thailand, fighters come from poor families. They start training as little kids and commonly have their first professional fight before age 10. After the fight, you’ll see the 70-pound winner posing in the ring with the fan of Thai Baht he’s going to take home to his family. They’ll typically fight hundreds of times by their late 20s, and many retire to train farang like me.

Big ol' me

I’m over six feet tall and around 190 pounds. I tower over most Thai fighters. I also dwarf Liam Harrison, the terrifying eight-time kickboxing and Muay Thai world champion who came to our gym last summer to teach a seminar. And yet any of these little dudes could beat the everloving crap out of me.

The bigger they are, the harder they fall (thanks, Liam)

Diamond Muay Thai has a pretty gender-balanced fight team, and I believe that several of the women could chop me down if they wanted to. Nevermind my considerable strength, weight and reach advantages.

Not only can lots of people beat me up in Muay Thai, the sport itself dishes out regular beatings. The workouts can be downright humiliating. Try throwing 100 right kicks followed by 100 left kicks. Try sparring for 10 consecutive rounds. Last Saturday after team training, Tony made us do 1,200 reps of ab exercises. That’s not a typo.

All this to say, Muay Thai is fun, exciting, and also very humbling.

Being big doesn’t count for much. What really counts is your mindset. You need to be able to stay calm while you are under attack. You need to remain composed while attacking. You need to command your body to do things it does not want to do. You need to call upon refined skills and techniques when your lizard brain just wants to flail or run away.

I try not to be that annoying guy who sees a combat sports analogy everywhere I look, but it does come to mind a lot. In life, you will be asked to stay calm under fire, to respond with composure, and to conduct yourself with poise even when you feel like you’re going to totally lose it.

Neither size nor strength can protect us from the vicissitudes of life. But I believe martial arts are a fantastic way to harden your defenses and develop your resilience.