Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!

Well, as some of you may have heard by now, I have decided to take a fight. It's on the 8th of March, and Damage will be in town to capture it on video for y'all. It's about four months ahead of schedule. Hopefully I don't make a total dick of myself.
Since I took the fight I'm having a bit of trouble getting to sleep. You know when your drifting off to sleep and you think your falling, and you bring your hands up to defend yourself and the resulting jerk wakes you up? Well, that's what I've been doing every night as I drift off, only I'm in the ring, and I'm countering moves with full battle cry. I'm very popular in my house, natch. If I don't get a handle on it soon I'll be up to the chemist, where seemingly everything's legal, and getting some sleepers.
Training is naturally stepped up, although it nearly wasn't. Tim (gym manager, also my buddy) put my name on the board for a fight, but he put up my Thai nick name. Pom pui. It means fat belly. The Thais have trouble with the 'V' sound and also the 'F' sound, as in fifty. So, on day one they all tried in vain to pronounce my name, and eventually settled on Pom Pui. Anyway, when they saw my name up there, they thought it was a joke. Then the head trainer asked me yesterday, with a smile on his face," Pom Pui is fighting soon?". And when I said yes, his expression changed to the most serious one I've ever seen. Picture a man who has just discovered that his family have just been kidnapped, like in an eighties revenge movie, or Jack Bauer. And just found out he has cancer. And his cancer has Aids. Bad aids. Like you'd get off a bummer. Yeah, now you've got it. This crazy man drilled the fuck out of me. Hard, intense stuff. Really pushing it. I mean, I know I have to do a lot of hard training, but I didn't think I'd have to do it all on the first night.
So, I'm dieting hard now, trying to get down to about 86kgs for the fight. I'm down to 94.3 today, and still 3 weeks out so I'm fairly confident I'll make it. I actually started dieting the day before I took the fight, but was still planning on having the odd burger or pizza at the weekend. Not every weekend, but it's still nice to know that you can, if you want. Anyway, that's all out the window now, and I'll be training 3 hours a session, two sessions a day, every day until the fight. But, I have a sneaking suspicion that I'll be raping a burger and chips the day after my fight. Viking style. Or maybe like that movie with Jodie Foster and the pinball machine. The important thing is that I will be doing unspeakably vile sex acts to junk food. Also, taking the fight on the 8th means I can hang out with my buddy for the weekend. Fighters are allowed two days off after a fight and one or two before. So I fight on Thursday, take Friday and Saturday off and then it's Sunday. Gods day of rest. That's what I call myself now. God. Fitting don't you think?