Your hands are bound in a mixture of tape and bandage, so solid you feel as though you could punch straight through a brick wall.
Your body is slick with Thai oil and Vaseline, your muscles warm and limber, ready for action.
You pace back and forth, incapable of stillness as your nervous system kicks into high gear.
From outside of the room, you can hear the roar of the crowd, the high-pitched din of the Thai music, perhaps even the thud of impacts as two competitors go toe-to-toe.
The energy in you builds as your adrenal system comes alive, the pit of nerves deep in your stomach churning.
Your corner laces up your gloves and your trainer approaches, mongkon in hand. In reverential silence, the traditional Thai headdress is placed on your crown, a quick prayer muttered over it.
It is almost time. The previous bout is coming to its conclusion and, within the next few minutes, you will be stepping into the ring. Facing you will be another human being, perhaps a total stranger, perhaps not. Two arms and two legs, just like you, a sack of meat and bone, hopes and dreams and fears, habits and impulses and neuroses. This person has been at the periphery of your thoughts for weeks, the knowledge of this impeding clash a shadow over each and every minute, both in and out of the gym.
The call comes. Your next out. The moment is here. It is too late to back out, too late to come up with an excuse. You’re staring into the abyss. What stares back, is a reflection of your true self.
muayfight- muay thai 