Sweetcheeks
Don Juan
My girl works at a gym as a personal trainer. I train there every week or so while she’s on duty, and do my own thing.
Frequently, I see meatheads of all sorts trying to run game on her. A lot of these guys are a lot bigger, stronger, or taller than me, and are surrounded by a gang of their friends (I train alone, because I’m not a member at her gym).
My gut reaction gives me the urge to get in their faces and tell them to back off.
Even though I’m reasonably well trained as a fighter and strong for my size, matters would not be in my favor if I got into a fight with a couple of 6-foot-5, 250 pound bodybuilders. I’ve stood toe to toe with guys like that in training and come out on top before, both in the ring and on the mat, but only one-on-one.
My strategy is simply to ignore it. She does a good job shutting them down, and she tells me about it later. We generally laugh at the lame comments they make at her, usually in relation to her smile or her ass.
My advice is to avoid trouble unless absolutely necessary.
Although I find it tempting to assert my manhood by beating down gorillas I perceive have “disrespected” me, I realize that the disrespect is in my head, it won’t impress my girlfriend, and that these instincts come from a past plagued by insecurity and ignorance.
Picking a fight and winning might seem like a victory, but it would be a victory motivated by a need for others to validate me by recognizing how tough I am.
The absolute toughest guy I know is my friend Thomas Konkol. He came from Poland about 15 years ago. Not a big guy, 6 feet tall and 185 pounds, but a physical genius. He was the Ontario Amateur Boxing middleweight champ for a couple of years running a while ago, and defeated the New York State kickboxing champ about 5 or 6 years ago (They wouldn’t give him the belt because he was Canadian). I’ve seen him throw a 350-pound powerlifter around like a child (leverage, positioning and timing) when sparring NHB style at Huff’s gym in Mississauga, and had him tapping out repeatedly in a matter of seconds. Circumstances prevent him from making a living as a professional fighter (there’s very little market for it in Canada), but you wouldn’t know he was a fighter from hanging around with him. He is very quiet and calm, not brash and in-your-face. I feel ashamed whenever I tell him I got into a fight for no good reason. He tells me I’m old enough, that I should know better.
Potential jail time or a stay in the hospital does NOT bring me any closer to achieving my long-term goals. My main objective is to enjoy my life and do what I plan to do, and that doesn’t include being the toughest ******* in my region.
Frequently, I see meatheads of all sorts trying to run game on her. A lot of these guys are a lot bigger, stronger, or taller than me, and are surrounded by a gang of their friends (I train alone, because I’m not a member at her gym).
My gut reaction gives me the urge to get in their faces and tell them to back off.
Even though I’m reasonably well trained as a fighter and strong for my size, matters would not be in my favor if I got into a fight with a couple of 6-foot-5, 250 pound bodybuilders. I’ve stood toe to toe with guys like that in training and come out on top before, both in the ring and on the mat, but only one-on-one.
My strategy is simply to ignore it. She does a good job shutting them down, and she tells me about it later. We generally laugh at the lame comments they make at her, usually in relation to her smile or her ass.
My advice is to avoid trouble unless absolutely necessary.
Although I find it tempting to assert my manhood by beating down gorillas I perceive have “disrespected” me, I realize that the disrespect is in my head, it won’t impress my girlfriend, and that these instincts come from a past plagued by insecurity and ignorance.
Picking a fight and winning might seem like a victory, but it would be a victory motivated by a need for others to validate me by recognizing how tough I am.
The absolute toughest guy I know is my friend Thomas Konkol. He came from Poland about 15 years ago. Not a big guy, 6 feet tall and 185 pounds, but a physical genius. He was the Ontario Amateur Boxing middleweight champ for a couple of years running a while ago, and defeated the New York State kickboxing champ about 5 or 6 years ago (They wouldn’t give him the belt because he was Canadian). I’ve seen him throw a 350-pound powerlifter around like a child (leverage, positioning and timing) when sparring NHB style at Huff’s gym in Mississauga, and had him tapping out repeatedly in a matter of seconds. Circumstances prevent him from making a living as a professional fighter (there’s very little market for it in Canada), but you wouldn’t know he was a fighter from hanging around with him. He is very quiet and calm, not brash and in-your-face. I feel ashamed whenever I tell him I got into a fight for no good reason. He tells me I’m old enough, that I should know better.
Potential jail time or a stay in the hospital does NOT bring me any closer to achieving my long-term goals. My main objective is to enjoy my life and do what I plan to do, and that doesn’t include being the toughest ******* in my region.
