A Week Stuck in Hell
Failure. Keeps missing the mark and is unaccountable. Fails and failure is what stands. Empty promise after empty promise. I texted my coach if I didn’t make weight for Regionals to kick me off the team. I had come up short so many times that my word meant nothing, even to myself. I missed weight for team Regionals and I thought it was over.
I rode back home with my friend and his parents after our team had won regionals and punching our ticket to team states. It was an exciting time but for me it was overshadowed with regret and bitterness. I had failed to make weight yet again and I didn’t have the trust of my team anymore. It was a feeling I hope to never have again because even among other people you feel like you’re in complete isolation. In the car ride we talked about making it to states and how we are one step closer to our dream of becoming state champions. For the team it was all coming together. There was just one piece that just was never fitting and it was me. But my friend said, “hey I am going to ask my parents tonight and I want you to ask your parents tomorrow if you can stay at my house the week leading up to states. You can’t control yourself on your own so i’ll help you out.” I didn’t even think twice, I just said “yes.” We had about two weeks before our first weigh in at states and a week before I had to spend my nights at my friends house. My weight class was 103 pounds but since it was past January we got an extra 2 pound allowance. I was a senior in high school and no where close to weighing 103. I had made the weight before but each time was a struggle. I stood a staggering 5 foot 4 inches(rounded up) and naturally weighed around 127 pounds. I didn’t have much body fat. In fact, we get that measured before the season starts and I averaged around 8%. I don’t know how familiar people are with weight cutting but it is not like losing weight. This is breaking down your body in a very short period of time and then trying to go out and compete at the highest level possible. For some, cutting is unnecessary or they have just a few pounds to shed. I, along with my friend had no such luck. We had death cuts as i’d like to call them. Because every time I made weight you would think I was dead. My face was so sucked in you could see the bones in my face, my nose was caved in, and my legs were the size of my arms. It was severely unhealthy but we put our bodies on the line for the team. Ever since our freshmen year we had one single goal. We wanted to have a state title and our school had never had an opportunity like the one we had in front of us. So we made the sacrifices no one else wanted to do. Coming into the final week of practice before states I stepped on the scale in front of my friend and coaches. I weighed in at around 119.5. That would leave 14.5 pounds to go for those of you who struggle with simple math. Then after that, my Head Coach went to a whiteboard we had in the coaches office and wrote down every weight I had to be at the end of each day or else I wasn’t leaving. Everything looked manageable, all except the first day. I had to be 109 leaving practice after Monday. In 24 hours I was going to have to lose 10.5 pounds and I wasn’t happy about it. My coach knew the first day I was going to have the most energy because it would be the most hydrated and full i’d be all week.
It’s 5am and my alarm screams at me to wake up. My first class in school doesn’t start till 7:25am but I had to get up and go to the school for a morning workout. These workouts we did through out the entire season and they were the worst. Your bed is calling you back under the warm blankets, it’s the end of February in Michigan and winter is brutal. I willed myself up and told myself, “this is your last chance at making your dream a reality, suck it up and let’s go.” I ran out the door and threw a bag of clothes in my car that i’d use for the week and drove to the high school. There i’d meet up with my Coach and Ryan, the friend who was on a similar weight cut and also the person i’d be spending the next week with. We go to the locker room and I check my weight. I was 117.7. I had drifted around 2 pounds over night(drifting is a term we use to describe the natural weight loss that happens during sleep or just throughout the day). I had a little meal the night before and I knew it would be my last until the second weigh in on Saturday. Ryan and I silently walked to our lockers and started to get ready for the workout. These were “private” sessions if you will. No one else had to do them because they didn’t have the death sentence of a weight cut we did. I opened my locker and instantly my mind was shot. I had to put on a sauna suit, under my shirt, that goes under my sweat shirt and hat and sweat pants. It was torture. I put those freezing cold plastics right on to my bare skin and just wanted to die. I slid over my shirts and all the other clothing items required to turn me into a human sauna. The point was to trap as much heat as possible and sweat out the weight. We both got on the treadmills and the hell week had begun. My coach would stand right next to my treadmill and mess with the speeds to give me short sprints while I ran to get my body temperature up. This would continue for about 25 minutes mixed in with jump ropes. Then once we got our bodies hot enough we’d enter hell. Aka the pool deck. It was this humid hell on earth but instead of descending to it we would have to climb a flight of concrete stairs to get to the top. Heat rises folks so we went to the highest point in the pool deck and ran sprints and pedaled on a hand and foot bike. It was awful. To lose the weight we had to shed water. It wasn’t fat or food. We had to dehydrate ourselves to become dried up prunes. I swear I cried as much as I sweat. You would literally watch your body deteriorate before your own eyes. It was horrible to see. Then after the workout was done just to squeeze every last drop of sweat left we would have to sit with our clothes tucked in and our heads close to the body and let the body just sweat itself out until it turned cold. The light at the end of the tunnel for me in any workout was thinking about a freezing cold shower. I would get back to the locker room and tear off all my layers of clothing, weigh in and run to the showers. There was one shower that had a broken head and instead of a controlled sprinkling, it would just be a waterfall. I’d rush to it and turn it to the coldest possible temperature and just stand under it for 10 minutes. It was so cold you couldn’t even breathe right, you’d have to gasp for air but it felt amazing. It’s like you came right out of an oven and you had to cool yourself down somehow and that was the cure. I’d open my mouth and let the freezing water sit on my tongue but know the entire time i’d have to spit it out or risk missing weight again. And this time, that was not an option. So after I felt the need to get out, or I heard the bell ring meaning I was late for class i’d towel off, get into some sweats and just be a ghost in my classes. I’d attend physically but mentally all I could think about was what food and drinks I was going to order when it was all over. After this week I would never have to cut again or at least anything close to it. In my world literature class we had a quarter long research paper. So we could bring in our laptops or whatever or use the ones our school provided and do “research”. During that hour every day I would go on YouTube and search videos of waterfalls, or people chugging water or any liquid, or i’d look at menus from places. It was sad but that’s all my mind could think of. It was torturing but in some ways it gave me satisfaction seeing other people enjoying their normal lives. So i’d go through my day just trying to stay awake and make it to practice. At lunch time i’d go to our locker room and just sit with “the guys”. We’d talk about our chances of winning states and trying to design our rings for when we do win. I sat there with a bowl of water just dipping my face in it to feel it. I never drank it, I just got to touch it.
Anyways the final bell rang and school was done meaning my day was just getting started. I headed to the locker room and weighed in at around 114. I was still 5 pounds away from what I had to be before I could leave. I was fine with it though because if we had a tough practice then that wouldn’t be too hard. Only problem was today they weren’t having a normal practices, they were playing games like football in the gym and doing a light drill sesh while I was told to put on my plastics and sweats and head to the fitness center to run. No one with me, just myself. Well when I got to the fitness center I had to interrupt a girls track meeting and sneak by all of them looking like a eskimo from head to toe wrapped in clothes. I jumped on the treadmill and started sprinting. I was there for two and a half hours wondering when the coaches were going to let me stop. I was so tired, mentally I was breaking and for the past 30 minutes I was just pedaling on a stationary bike trying to keep my sweat going but my legs were hardly moving. Finally I had enough of it and I burst out of the room and slowly jogged to the locker room. Everyone was gone. Practice was over!? I was pissed. Did they forget about me? Finally my friend who I had to drive back to his house with found me in the locker room and asked where I was. I said, “where have I been?? I have been running for the past 3 hours and no one told me to stop!” After calming down he told me to step on the scale. I was 110.6. I lost 3.4 pounds but that put me 1.6 pounds out from the mark. I begged him to let it slide, I knew I would be on weight for the next weigh in which was Tuesday morning and I had to be 108. I knew I could be there. But he told me to suit back up and run again. You don’t understand how hard it is to think you are done with the days workouts and be told to go back and do more. Put back on wet, and now cold clothing and go run after running for the past 3 hours and now feeling the effects of hunger and dehydration. Anyways after arguing for 5 minutes he got me to go back on a treadmill and I remember I handled it really well. I am kidding, I cried and begged him to let me off and go home. Yeah I was a broken man but before you judge me, I challenge you to do 1/3 of the things I had to do and see how well you can handle it. I doubt very much you’ll take it graciously. Anyways my day was over and I weighed out at 109.7. I was in the 109’s so it was good enough. We got in my car after I took a freezing shower again and headed to his house. It would be the first night there and what I was hoping would be the last. I wanted to just die. We got back and I had my choice, between two 2oz popsicles or 1 packet of berry oatmeal with less water then recommended on the package to cook it. 3/5 days i’d choose the popsicles. It would be refreshing and cold and make me feel like I was drinking something. We’d head to his basement, turn the tv on and sit on the couch that also transformed into my bed. We’d probably have the tv on for about an hour but neither of us were watching. We sat there silently staring into space trying to imagine a time when we wouldn’t feel like death and have the tv to drown out other thoughts. Finally without a word he would get up, turn the tv off and head to his room also in the basement, and we’d go to bed. Although we’d still be up for hours longer just laying in bed trying to get our stomachs to shut up and cotton mouth to somehow go away. When our brains finally slowed down enough to let us sleep the alarm would sound to signal another day of hell is beginning. Repeat the same day. Morning practice, go to the locker room at lunch and put my face in water, go to practice, run up on the pool deck after practice and then hopefully go back to Ryan’s house and have my frozen treat. I was on weight and in fact under weight every day after Tuesday. Coming in on Thursday morning I was actually ahead of schedule so my coach let me sleep in the locker room instead of having to run which also means I got to sleep through my entire first period too. My Coach taught weights class, which if you’re school has that it’s the best thing ever. Anyways, it seemed like I was finally catching a break but no matter how well the day seemed every time i’d sit in that basement my mind would shatter. I couldn’t sleep and I just had to lay there thinking of how bad it sucked which made it suck even more. Thursday night came and I just had to make it through this one last night and i’d be at the finish line. I was 105.7 after the practice and I knew I was going to drift that .7 overnight and be on weight. My coach told me to eat something that night so i’d feel refreshed and just work it off in the morning but I didn’t listen. I skipped my oatmeal and popsicle and headed to the basement. I just wanted to sleep but then this weird feeling kept me up. It was like I was having a heart attack. I was psyching myself out and making it impossible to sleep. I stayed up the entire night watching videos of how to make certain alcoholic drinks, one I specifically remember was how to make an old fashioned by Scoff. I thought it was relaxing and I can remember people roasting the dude in the video because he lacked “good bartender skills” and how he made the drink was wrong. I also went on a website that posted predictions on the quarterfinal matches and even the finals. I skipped to the prediction of which D1 team would win and it said my team. It gave me confidence and after what seemed to be an endless night it was time to go to school. I was just waiting for my friend to wake up so we could leave, I looked around the basement and saw this bottle that said Peach Flavor on it. I was thinking it was like those flavored liquid candies and I squirted some in my mouth. I was desperate for anything besides air and my own saliva. I regretted it instantly. I had just put vape liquid in my mouth and the sensation is indescribable. It burned and made my mouth more dry then before and the worst part was I couldn’t even drink water to relieve the burning because I couldn’t afford any extra weight. I was already having thoughts of not making weight because I was so accustomed to missing it. My friend woke up from my thrashing around in the bathroom trying to flush this vape liquid from my mouth and we packed our bags for states and went to school. We didn’t have classes because we were leaving on a police escorted bus to Battle Creek at 9am so we met up at the locker room and had a preweigh in weigh in and boom. 103.2. I was under by 1.8 pounds and I got to eat a bagel and some bananas and have a 4 oz cup of Rehydrate a powder mixture for water my coach sold from Advocare. The week in Ryan’s basement was over and we made it. We weighed in at Battle Creek and both of us along with the rest of the team was on weight. What a week it was and was all capped off by us winning our programs first ever wrestling state title and cementing our legacy in that town forever.
In ending you will never fully grasp what we went through and what we had to overcome. All I can do is try and put you in my shoes and hope you can get even 10% of how miserable it was. This isn’t to show how badass we are, or a statement of us being better then you. All it is, is sharing an experience you’ll probably never find yourself being apart of and giving you insight about it. After all I can’t complain about the experience because they were all done by choice. It was self sacrifice for the better of the team. It was bigger then myself and that’s why it means so much. Thank you.
Left is Ryan and I after winning the title and realizing it’s over, and right is when the clock ran out and officially naming us the state champions
