A while back, my wife and I had a weird conversation about getting punched in the face.đ
We were watching some UFC FightsâŚ
That might sound weirdâŚđ
But her point was that it would be nice to know how she would respond in that type of situation. How would she handle it? Would she fight back hard, or would she crumple into a fetal position after the first strike?
I laughed at first, but the more I thought about it, the more I understood.
The first fight I got into was in 7th grade with a kid named Clint. It was a stupid fight, where two other kids had tripped him when he wasnât looking, and then he thought it was me. He got in my face and threw the first swingâŚ
But I DEMOLISHED him after that. Like the judges would have scored it 50-44 at best.
Neither of us had any serious or long-lasting damage, but it was good to know that I could fight.
Now my next serious fight was in high school, with my best friend CameronâŚ
Cameron and I were at a party at some seniorâs house, smoking a hookah, and then one of us knocked it over, and it broke.
I say one of us because it happened so fast that we both blamed the other person.
It shouldnât have been a big deal, but it turned into this âbeefââŚ
So a week later, we got into a fight.
There was a place where all of the fights at my school took placeâŚ
It was a parking lot about 3 minutes from campusâŚ
And so one day after schoolâŚwe caravanned over and battled.
There were probably 50+ other kids watchingâŚ
And I got my ass kicked.
Cameron started the fight by bull-rushing me, and if Iâd been smart, I could have kneed him in the nose and probably stunned himâŚ
But I didnât, he tackled me and pinned me to the groundâŚ
And then he went to town, laying haymakers on my face.
By the time I tapped out, I was covered in bloodâŚ
And the funny thing is that I had to go to tennis practice after all of that (yeah, Iâm aware of the contrast LOL)âŚ
My coaches were like, âWTFâ because I had cuts everywhere, my shirt was soaked in blood, my nose and lips were split open, and I had swelling and bruising alreadyâŚ
But I just told my coaches, and later my parents, that I had run into a parked car!
They only half-believed me, but they couldnât prove it was anything elseâŚ
And that was that.
[Oh, and by the way, that fight squashed the beef with Cameron right away. We were good pretty much immediately afterwards and back to being best friends. Weâre still best friends to this day, actually â we live in the same neighborhood in Vegas, golf together almost every week, and are even involved in each otherâs businesses!]
Now besides those two fightsâŚ
There were less primal ones too.
We used to hang out in another parking lot on the weekends when we were teenagers, and sometimes weâd box. I loved to box. Weâd put on gloves, and Iâd go three rounds with pretty much anyone. Occasionally our other friends would even place bets on who would win or if I could go three rounds against some super athletic dude.
I always could. Even though I smoked cigarettes back then and wasnât exactly an âathleteââŚ
I had (and like to think I still have) really good stamina and endurance. I also had good footwork (thank you tennis!) and was very good at jabbing, darting, ducking, and not taking too many big shots. Every now and then, Iâd even land a big blow of my own.
And finally, thereâs the only time I ever got knocked out cold.
ââI was boxing with my friend JJ at my parentsâ house when he landed an uppercut directly beneath my jaw. I remember my legs flying up from underneath me, and then when I opened my eyes and regained consciousness, I was lying in the grass.
My dad walked out, saw JJ hovering over me like Muhammad Ali after knocking out Sonny Liston, then just chuckled and went back inside.
I guess it was a different time.
Anyways though, why am I sharing all of this?
Because, to my wife Lauraâs point, itâs kind of nice being punched in the face. Itâs good to know that you can take it.
And itâs true of those proverbial punches too.
Some of you may know that when I was in my early twenties, I was robbed at gunpoint.
ââFor at least 2 minutes, I had a gun pointed directly at my headâŚ
It sounds dramatic (and it was dramatic), but Iâm glad that this happened too.
Why?
Because it actually gave me more confidence. The whole time I was being robbed and carjacked, I was calm AF. I didnât panic or freak out. I was steady. And now I know that in those types of situations, Iâm reliable.
And there have been many other situationsâŚ
From tornado warningsâŚto near-fatal car crashesâŚ
Itâs good to know the kind of person you are when shit hits the fan.
So, while Iâm not suggesting anybody goes out and picks a fightâŚ
What I am saying is this:
Maybe we shouldnât be so afraid of shying away from danger either. Donât be stupid. But if youâre living a life where thereâs no element of risk, it may be difficult to really grow as a person.
You donât have to go fight battles or nearly dieâŚ
But at the very least, keep stretching yourself. Get out of your comfort zone. Test yourself.
Youâll generally be very surprised by how well you respond in novel or strange situationsâŚ
And as that happens, youâll probably find that your confidence grows as well.
â SPG
P.S. This post originally came from an email I sent to my private list. If you want to see more stuff like this from me, you can apply to join my list using this link