Monday, July 27, 2015

Does grappling work "in the streets"?

Two short stories about grappling.

Yesterday I was at an open training session. I was training with my cousin and had him in a side control (wrestling pin) position. In an effort to escape, he started jamming his elbow in to my throat. This is actually a fairly effective move to get someone off of you. Nevertheless, we both had a good chuckle about it, and I threw a few friendly knees to his ribcage to let him know that I could also be mean if I wanted to.

My cousin and I have a good healthy training relationship and we often do these types of “dick moves” to one another. We’re never trying to injure one another, but we definitely do play rough, generally rougher than we would against other training partners.

Five minutes later, the tables were turned. My cousin was tired and I started getting dominant positions and doing dick things. Grinding my chin into his nose or my forearm into his ear — all in good fun, of course.

Then this morning, I read a Facebook post from a BJJ training partner in Hong Kong. Apparently some road rager freaked out, slammed on the brakes in front of him, and attempted to provoke a fight with him. The BJJ guy double legged him and got to a dominant position. The aggressor attempted to bite, scratch and eye gouge the BJJ guy, but my friend held him down until the cops arrived, neutralizing him without throwing a punch or causing him any bit of harm.

The key takeaway from this is to be wary of the notion that grappling or MMA is ineffective “in the streets”. While it’s true that a well-placed eye gouge or groin shot can cause series damage, it’s pretty hard to do these things when you’re pinned helplessly to the ground. It turns out that the best way to learn how to fight dirty is simply to learn how to fight.



Wednesday, June 3, 2015

Fight recap video

Trying out something new this time. In the past, I've written lengthy blog posts about my pre and post fight. But this time, there were so many people who watched my fight on the live stream that didn't know what were going on and had a lot of questions to ask.

For them, I've posted a video with commentary. Check it out! (Make sure you have annotations ON.)



Comments and questions welcomed, encouraged, desired!

Saturday, May 30, 2015

Fight day

I made weight yesterday officially at 134.6 lbs, and went to bed at about 141. My opponent weighed in at the limit of 136.0 lbs, and presumably went to bed probably a little heavier than me.



I've talked about how difficult this road is, and how much I've given of myself to be here. But I am also extraordinarily lucky to be able to dedicate this much time, energy, and money in the pursuit of my passion.

I am grateful to training partners in Vancouver, Las Vegas, Hong Kong and beyond, who have sparred with me, held pads for me, worked techniques with me, or even just had some words of advice or encouragement.

I'm calm, I'm ready, and I feel great. It is these moments that I love.

Monday, May 25, 2015

Audio interview with me ahead of Saturday's fight

I did a 30-minute interview with Battlefield Fight League's marketing guy, Jamak Golshani, ahead of my fight this Saturday. Check it out here!

Info on buying tickets to watch live, or purchasing the pay-per-view, are available here.

And speaking of podcasts, I'll be the lead host of the 2+2 PokerCast tomorrow for the first time ever. In fact it'll be the first time in the history of the show that neither Mike Johnson nor Adam Schwartz will be sitting in the big chair. I'll be joined by Mazin "MSauce" Khoury in the studios, and that show will be out late Tuesday evening.

Tuesday, May 19, 2015

Less is (sometimes) more; ruminations on the minimum effective dose

I normally drink 4-5 cups of coffee a day and also a few cups of green tea. This probably comes out to around 600-800 mg/day, which is probably too much, especially for someone who only weighs 64kg.

If I drink zero cups of coffee, I feel pretty lousy. Headaches, withdrawal symptoms and the like. Once every few months I will do a caffeine reset and try to go 3-4 days without any caffeine, but I am pretty unhappy while doing it.

Yet if I drink just one cup of coffee, I feel surprisingly decent. Today I've had one cup, went to the gym, and here I am writing a blog post, and generally behaving like a normal human being.

The health/exercise benefits of caffeine are well documented. Caffeine, in a reasonable dose, is a very good thing for the body.

But the curve is U-shaped (like it is for many things we ingest). The effects of too much caffeine is also well-documented. Man, I love me some caffeine, but I don't want to destroy my nervous system either.



Each cup makes me feel a little better, but there are diminishing returns. Meanwhile, the dosage that is beneficial for me increases rapidly and falls sharply.

So my general thought for this low-caffeine morning is that you should always try to find the minimum effective dose. Know what you need as a baseline. Often you should push yourself past the minimum. If you've just got to study for the big exam, you're running a marathon or you're going to spar 10 hard rounds, then you can caffeinate as much as you think you need. But on other days, try to find the minimum.

To know how much is too much of a good thing, you also need to know its opposite -- not enough of a good thing.

Thursday, May 14, 2015

Why Fight? Part 2: The Reward

If you ask any fighter -- indeed, any athlete in any sport -- they'll mention the importance of the mental aspect of the game. Follow the game plan. Be confident, but not cocky. Respect your opponent's strengths, but don't fear them. Be mentally tough.

Training as a competitive athlete must necessarily involve going farther than the brain wants to go. Many people are tremendously self-motivated individuals who will work until exhaustion daily. Others need to be pushed by coaches and training partners, to be broken down by them, so they can be rebuilt stronger.

In my previous entry, I talked about the difficulty, toil, and investment a fighter makes in his training camp. Surely if someone voluntarily goes through something so hellish, there must be a powerful reward on the other side.

Rewards of the fight game

Why do people participate in dangerous sports? There are a variety of reasons, but this article touches on the subject. Summarizing:
  • Extreme sports release dopamine, which triggers the reward system by making the person feel good. This creates an addiction to the feeling, and by association, the sport.
  • Extreme sports are transformative, and those who participate in them may exhibit a higher capacity for humility and courage.
  • Those who participate in extreme sports understand intellectually that these things are dangerous, but that fear is something to be overcome, not avoided.
Fighters will often say that the fight is the reward for the brutality of the training camp. That like sex, months of discomfort are traded for minutes of enjoyment (except the causal direction is reversed).

As someone who has stepped through the cage door four times, it's hard to dispute this idea. Putting all that training to use in a live combative situation, in front of a screaming audience, is a great feeling. While Mexican or Thai boxers fight to escape poverty, fighting in most of Western society is a first-world luxury. If you do it, you do it for the love of the game.

I try not to think of the fight as the reward, and take a somewhat more zen approach of the reward the journey rather than the destination. I have written before about the value of being uncomfortable, and doing things that are hard, simply because they are hard. 

But don't get me wrong. Fighting and competing is fun. This will be my fifth MMA fight. I've also had an amateur boxing match, two kickboxing matches, and probably about 20 grappling competitions. (Grappling is a fight sport where it is reasonable to be a dabbler, since getting tapped out is orders of magnitudes less bad than getting knocked out.)

Confidence

Confidence is another positive product of the grueling fight camp. Again there is a paradox at play here. Throughout training camp, the fighter often suffers crises of confidence. As he gets beat up in sparring, he can often question his own skill, and his confidence may wane. He may become self-defeating. I have thought to myself many times, "I suck at this. Why am I doing it?"

And yet other days, the fighter is supremely confident. On those days where things feel good and the fighter feels sharp, he feels nearly invincible, ready to take on the world. Today, as I'm writing this, it is how I feel. I feel supremely confident that on May 30, I will enter the Battlefield cage at the River Rock Hotel and Casino and put a beating on Blake Sigvaldason of Terrace B.C.'s Dungeon Fight Team Ali Wasuk out of Clinch MMA in Port Coquitlam, B.C. I feel like no other outcome is possible. Whether or not this is a rational response is another question -- I know nothing of the man other than watching a few fights he had well over a year ago. I don't know how strong he is, how athletic he is, how developed his skills have become. I have never put hands on the man, nor has he put hands on me. Yet right now, as my fingers touch this keyboard, I believe fully that there is no way he is ready to compete against me in that cage.

This stems from the incredible commitment required of a competitive fighter, which I touched on in Part 1. The fighter thinks, "I am spending so much time and energy on this fight. I am doing everything right. I am working with great coaches and training partners."

There is a tremendous optimism bias when one goes through a hard training camp. The thought is simple: "There's no way that this guy has put in what I've put into the fight. There is no way he is this obsessed with winning. Therefore, I will win."

Camaraderie and the Team

Finally, it is worth mentioning the team aspect of fighting. There are very few r┼Źnin left in combat sports; even the most gifted fighters are now part of a team, training under a competent trainer. The relationship a fighter develops with his coaches and training partners is fraught with contradiction. The MMA coach borders on sadism, often pushing the fighter far beyond where he wants to go, throwing exhausted fighters into the shark tank to spar against completely fresh opponents. But the great coach does not simply break the fighter down; he builds his fighter back up.

The training partners beat up their teammate as hard as possible, though ideally without injuring him. The training partners are simultaneously your best friends and your worst nightmares in the gym. Because of them, you are battered, bruised, and often injured. But without them, you cannot succeed at the sport. The beatings that teammates give one another foster a tremendous sense of camaraderie and brotherhood (and sometimes sisterhood; I use non-neutral pronouns out of convenience, not disrespect). No one knows what a fighter goes through better than another fighter, and so fighters are surprisingly empathetic creatures -- at least when it comes to fighting. The punches to the face are always followed by fist bumps, hugs, and pats on the back.

Personal conclusions

It's my hope that this brief series answers some questions about the precarious balance between the costs and benefits of fighting as a passion, or vocation.

Fighting is not safe, and it is not healthy. It costs money, but even more so, overwhelming amounts of time. It is mentally draining. It has the potential to put valued relationships on rocky ground.

On the other hand, it also fosters and creates new relationships. Competition keeps me optimizing my own human performance. Training camps have taught me humility and perseverance.

Sixteen days until my dopamine receptors get their fix.

Tuesday, May 12, 2015

Why fight? Part 1: The Investment

People I know from the poker world, or from regular society -- or from any place other than the inside of an MMA gym, really -- often think I'm crazy for being willing to get in a cage and endanger myself by fighting another man until one man quits or is rendered helpless against the assault of the other.

The truth is, however, that fighting itself is not the crazy thing.

The crazy thing is what fighters do in order to fight.

For the last five weeks (and the next two), I have faithfully shown up the at the gym to take my daily beating. I have done this voluntarily and in full control of my own faculties. I do this without being bound to any contract, and without any financial incentive.

For these weeks I have felt exhausted throughout most of the day. I have woken up many mornings feeling like I have been hit by a car. I'm a morning person and yet I am often forced to train past 10pm, eat dinner around 11 and fall asleep well after midnight. But since I seem to have developed the lark chronotype, I have trouble sleeping past 5am.

Though I haven't tested them, I am sure my cortisol is elevated and my testosterone is lowered. In health terms, those are bad things -- they lead to increase in fat, decrease in muscle, decrease in sex drive, insulin resistance, cravings, bone loss, and illness.

Indeed, being a competitive athlete is not nearly as healthy as most people think that it is. Of course, it is better than being sedentary. But too far in the other extreme can be unhealthy as well. Being a serious competitive athlete means doing a lot of things that trade health in favour of performance. The athlete trains hard and risks injury and overtraining. All athletes train while injured; the only difference between athletes is how injured is too injured, necessitating a missed practice or competition. Virtually every serious athlete practices and competes through minor injuries, and many (most?) compete through more serious injuries. A typical training camp always involves a handful of small injuries. No one ever enters a fight at 100%.

Combat sports are worse than most in terms of training through injury, stress, and fatigue. Part of it is the inherently macho aspect of the sport itself. But some of it is simply the incentive/disincentive mechanism. The boxer, wrestler, or MMA fighter considers a day off of training to be a day that his opponent is gaining an advantage on him. And there are real consequences to being less trained than your opponent. The athlete who loses at a big swim meet or baseball game surely feels bad about his performance, and wishes he trained harder or better. The unprepared fighter, on the other hand, can find himself dominated, brutalized, and concussed. The soccer player misses out on a trophy. The fighter can end up in the hospital. This is not to put fighting on a pedestal or claim it is a more noble or tougher sport; it is just reality.

Thus overtraining and injury are too often ignored. It is a rare day that the fighter is seen outside the gym during fight camp. Fighting is not a sport for to dabble in. It's all-in, or fold.

And yet, injury is the most fearful part of a training camp. I know that every day I show up, I have a small percentage chance of suffering an injury which will prevent me from fighting on May 30. That percentage on any given day might be just 2-3%, but still with 8-10 sessions left, these odds might be as high as 1-0.97^10 = 26%, still nearly a 1-in-4 chance I won't get to fight.

That's scarily high! It is hard to express how much it means to get through each day without suffering a major injury. Although I know it's not true, I feel like the world would end if I didn't fight on May 30. This is why fighters fight hurt. A fight camp demands so much of the fighter emotionally, psychically, and financially. Fighters spend so much time getting psyched up about the fight. They endure the beatings in the gym knowing that when they leave, they are one day closer to the fight. They sell tickets to their family and friends. They have told everyone around about their fight. To not fight feels like a crushing defeat, far worse than stepping in the ring and coming up short.

When one has a fight lined up, one obsesses about the fight. The fight not only occupies one's thoughts all the time, it also dominates one's activities. I wake up in the morning and do mobility exercises, yoga-like movements that will lower my chances of getting injured, and make me more powerful. Many people are happy to get an hour a day to exercise. I spend at least an hour a day getting ready to exercise.

I run. I lift weights. I'm getting extra private lessons. I bought a Compex stimulator unit and use it daily. I plan all of my meals meticulously and carefully -- protein and fat in the morning, carbs at night. I schedule naps, because as mentioned I only get 5 hours of sleep a night. I watch fight footage and technique videos in my spare time. I stalk my opponent on Facebook and Twitter.

In truth, I become a very boring person while fight camp is going on. I am about fighting, and nothing else. There is very little that I do in any given day that is not related to my goal of winning my upcoming fight. (I do watch a lot of TV, and read a lot. That is because those are things I can do with minimal effort, either physical or mental. Most of my day, I am conserving energy.)

The time that I am not spending on the fight, I try to use to take care of personal relationships. I began writing this post on Mother's Day, and I did my best to make my mom feel special that day. My girlfriend has been tremendously supportive of me through this fight camp, putting up with both my moodiness and low energy levels, and so I do my best to take care of her in turn. But personal relationships are surely compromised through a fight camp. I see friends and family much less often than I would otherwise. In truth, I see a lot less of anyone other than my training partners and my physiotherapist.

Fighting is pretty much a financial net negative for anyone but the top 1% of pros. Fighters not in that 1% would make far more money working in a trade. I have spent money on this camp on physiotherapy, acupuncture, medical tests, private training, equipment, high-quality food, and supplements. I am very fortunate that I am not under financial pressure and that I get to pursue my passion fully. For me, the opportunity cost is more significant than the actual expenses. I have passed up on money-making opportunities (consulting jobs, poker, DFS) because of a lack of time and energy to spend on them.

This is what choosing to fight really is, beyond what you see in the cage on the night of the fight. It is angst and difficulty.

If that's the case, why does anyone do it? I'll talk more about that in my next post.

Tuesday, May 5, 2015

ICYMI: Tickets and PPV for my fight

Sorry about the blatant self-promotion, but it does seem there are those who missed the first announcement.

I'm still scheduled to fight on May 30 at the River Rock Casino in Richmond, BC. Training is going well, and I am working insanely hard. My opponent is Ali Wasuk (2-0) from Clinch MMA.

You can buy tickets online here.

Once you buy the tickets, I would appreciate if you forward your confirmation to jgolshani@yahoo.com and mention my name. This will allow me to get credit for selling the ticket and drawing another fan in the door.

The pay-per-view will be available here. I don't get anything for PPV buys, but feel free to tweet @BattlefieldFL and let them know you're buying it to watch me!

Thanks for your support!

Sunday, April 26, 2015

Back in the cage May 30!

It's been a long time -- two years and six months -- but I am returning to the Battlefield Fight League cage on May 30, and I couldn't be more excited.

2013 and the first half of 2014 was rough for my training with the Ultimate Poker launch as well as a series of injuries. But I've been pretty injury-free for over a year and training more intelligently than ever. I've learned a ton about combining strength and conditioning with MMA and avoiding overtraining.

Battlefield Fight League 36 is their biggest card ever with five title fights and the best prospects in British Columbia fighting. It'll be at Richmond BC's River Rock Casino theatre which makes me possibly the first person to both play a WSOP Circuit event and fight in a cage in the same room. Tickets are available on Ticketmaster and the fight will likely also be streamed on pay-per-view via Battlefield's website.

My opponent is Blake Sigvaldason. You can see his last fight by going to 25:11 of this video. As you can see it looks like he is a good wrestler with good guard passing and ground and pound. His record is only 1-3, but he is just 20, and seems to be improving with each fight. And there is a wrinkle: the fight is at 145 lbs, whereas I have previously fought at 125 lbs, so I'll be giving up over 20 lbs. I am very much looking forward to this challenge.  Edit: ack, late opponent change! I am now fighting Ali Wasuk (2-0) from Clinch MMA.

I'm expecting this to be my toughest fight yet, and I'm definitely training like it will be my toughest fight. This training camp will be in Vancouver at Lions MMA, who have a team record of 17-6-1 in Battlefield events. I am confident that with hard work, I will be better than my opponent in every aspect of the game, and I think it'll be a great fight.

So if you're in Vancouver on May 30, get some tickets and cheer for me at the River Rock!

Note: If you do buy tickets to the event, I would appreciate if you forward your confirmation e-mail to jgolshani@yahoo.com while mentioning my name. This will enable me to get a small commission and also show the promoter that I am a draw for the event. (I didn't even get a mention on their Twitter :( )

Monday, April 13, 2015

American odds into percentages

I spend way too much time in Excel every time I want to convert odds into percentages, so I'm just going to leave it here for reference. Maybe it will help someone else as lame-brained as me.

=IF(A1=100,0.5,(IF(A1<100,A1/(A1-100),100/(A1+100))))

Monday, March 30, 2015

Eating bugs in Mexico (and beyond)

I was in Mexico City last week, and one of the things I was most excited about was not late-night greasy taco stands (although that was a highlight), but the opportunity to eat bugs. There aren't too many restaurants in the Western first world where you can get insects. But I wanted to eat insects in Mexico quite badly, not necessarily for the taste or experience, but because I believe entomophagy is the future, and I want to put my money where my mouth is.

I'm happy to report that Restaurante Limosneros in Mexico City did a great job preparing these tasty bugs.


Left: Beetles with various salsas. Right: Ant eggs.

From the gift shop: "Tequila salt" made from grasshoppers. But you can put it on anything; very tasty!

Not only are bugs delicious, they are an awesome source of nutrients. Check out how they compare to beef, chicken, and salmon.

Insects stack up well nutritionally with the meats we commonly eat.

Bug farming is also much more environmentally friendly than animal farming, requiring far less feed, land, water, and carbon. Also, many of the issues that surround animal cruelty in factory farming are not an issue with insect farming.

(As an aside, vegetarianism is not an answer to the environmental issues of meat. First of all, I do not accept as a premise that humans do well without getting some measure of their food from animal meat. I'm willing to accept that it doesn't need to be a high percentage, but it's almost certainly not zero. I'm quite convinced need some animal product to thrive.)

Fact is, if we're going to meet growing nutritional needs while recognizing that we have a finite amount of land and energy, people in the first-world West need to get over the stigma of eating bugs.  This is not without precedent, of course. Lobster was considered an undesirable food for the lower classes and even prisoners until the mid 19th century.  Now it's a luxury food and often the most expensive item on the menu.

Now, I don't know whether anyone out there makes a cricket steak that's as good as a North Atlantic lobster or an Argentine rib eye. But bugs can't only be the domain of fancy restaurants in the West. Farmers in the West are trying to cram more chickens, cows and pigs into tinier and tinier spaces which is not only bad for the animal, but unhealthy for the end consumer. (Animals crammed into small spaces get diseases.) We need to start creating demand for bugs. The cricket-based protein bars by Exo are a great start. But that's only a start. It can't just be a niche product for health nerds or hippies. This stuff needs to be in casual restaurants and ubiquitous in supermarkets. That's the best way to reduce our reliance on factory farming.

Buen provecho!

Wednesday, March 18, 2015

A tale of two bikeshares: Mexico City and Melbourne

Earlier this year I visited Melbourne, Australia. One of the highlights of that trip was using the bike share system they have in place there. For those who have never been to one of the 712 cities that have a bike share, it is pretty straightforward. You go to a station, insert a credit card for payment as well as a damage deposit, and you rent a bicycle. Usually the cost is either free or very small for short periods and go up exponentially. Here's Melbourne's:


This of course, to increase bike turnover and prevent people from hoarding bikes. The consumer's ability to reliably have a good expectation that a bike will be available when and where they need it is critical to success of the system.

Melbourne's bike share is great for tourists. As a tourist, one often places oneself in neighbourhoods where the walk is very long, but taking a cab seems wastefully short. Additionally, taxis are a little sterile and boring, as they do not easily allow for the ability to randomly stop, change directions, or do something impulsive, which is one of the most fun components of the tourist experience. Cycling is the best compromise between the two.

The Melbourne bike, in my experience, was extremely tourist-oriented. According to its Wikipedia page, it is underperforming ridership expectations. (This is not surprising; estimates for public transit usage are consistently too high so it's not surprising that bike share would be the same.) The vast majority of people I saw using the bike share had obvious tourist tells. While Melburnians do ride bicycles a lot, most of them tend to own their own bikes.

In Mexico City though, the Ecobici system seems to be well-utilized by locals. One reason certainly must be the price discrimination at work:


That is an insane price gap: the first 7 days cost 300 pesos ($19.50 US), and the next 358 days cost another 100 pesos ($6.50 US).

The Melbourne prices offer a big discount for the yearly subscription as well, but they are far more tourist-friendly:


Considering that $8 Australian is the equivalent of 95 Mexican pesos and that Australia's per capita income is over 2.6 times that of Mexico, renting a bike for a week in Melbourne is more than 8 times cheaper than renting it in Mexico City. Of course, another way of putting it is that Mexico City's yearly price is more friendly to locals (58 AUD = 686 MXN).

Mexico's lower relative wealth would also make renting bikes more attractive than buying. Buying a bike can be expensive, so investing capital up front on a bike makes more sense for a Melburnian than it does a Chilango. I would also suspect that people feel less likely that an unattended bike will be damaged or stolen in Melbourne than they do in Mexico City, making ownership more attractive down under. So it's no surprise that I notice that less than 30% of those using the bikeshare in Melbourne were locals, more than 90% of those using it in DF live here. (Note that these estimates are pretty arbitrary since they rely on my subjective snap assessment of who is, and is not, a tourist.)

There are other factors beyond price that will affect utilization. Melbourne has only 51 stations while Mexico City has 444. True, Mexico City is a larger and much more populous city, but check out this comparison of station density (both screenshots are approximately, but not exactly, 11 km^2):

Mexico City

Melbourne

It makes sense that residents of Mexico City use the bike system a lot more than those of Melbourne. They're more easily able to commute, run errands, and so forth with confidence that there is a station near their destination. When catering to tourists, a higher density and distribution of stations is not nearly as critical; you simply need to prop them up where all of the tourist attractions and hotels are.

Melbourne's system is more tourist-oriented than local-oriented in another way, not nearly as obvious: a lower barrier to registration. In Melbourne, you simply insert your card and authorize it at the machine. In Mexico City, most of the stations are only for pickup and dropoff. To actually purchase a subscription, you must go to a "fourth-generation" machine, which are far less common (they are marked with triangles in the above pictures). Once at one of these machines, you have to enter full name, phone number, e-mail (twice), and date of birth on a touchscreen. Not only that, there are serious issues accepting non-Mexican cards. I've been trying for days, and I still haven't actually been able to take one of the bikes! Frustrating!

I haven't read a lot of reliable data on the ROI of civic and regional governments spending money to promote tourism, but from a libertarian perspective I'm always going to be skeptical about any project that takes money from the residents in an attempt to increase tourist dollars. Bike shares in heavily congested cities like Mexico City, or perhaps those in China, make more sense to me than they do in cities that are simply "pretty", like Melbourne and Vancouver. In non-congested tourist cities, it seems like the private sector should be able to handle the tourist bike rental market just fine.

Despite my libertarian bias, having a convenient city-wide bike share program is great for frequent tourists like myself. With a sufficient density of well-stocked bike stations, a bike share provides nearly as much autonomy as your own car while getting exercise and seeing the sites. Riding a bike to the grocery store or even the museums and tourist attractions make you feel more like a local.

Now, if only the one here would take my credit card.