You must be in it to win it!

It started with Diabetes Type II

In December last year, I discovered that I was diabetic. It was unfortunate because, even if it was inevitable, it could have been kept at bay for a few years at least. Just over 12 months earlier, doctors had written to me following one of my regular over-40 check-ups and they had warned me that I was "pre-diabetic".

Pre-diabetic is the term they use to describe people whose non-fasting blood sugar levels are critically elevated. Not everyone who is pre-diabetic is bound to develop the full-blown condition but they stand a much higher risk than everyone else.

The warning letter from my GP's surgery had been misplaced so I only found it by chance in November, last year! Initially, I tried to brush it under the carpet until I noticed some patches of unusual discolouration on my skin. This is known as acanthosis nigricans, a phenomenon which often goes hand in hand with another underlying condition such as diabetes. That's when I knew. The official diagnosis was just further red tape.

Shotgun moment

I was re-tested, twice, and then, when the results were in, they gave me the figures:

• Haemoglobin level (HbA1c) - 49 (diabetic)
• Cholesterol: 6.3 (elevated; 6.5 is classed as "high")

Doing nothing about this was not an option. My father had died of a huge cardiac arrest at the age of 57, and he was slim. I was overweight. Furthermore, it was disclosed to me that while my father had not been diagnosed with diabetes at the time, that was simply because he would have been off the radar for the detection techniques and understanding of the disease at that time (late 80s/early 90s). His mother HAD been a known diabetic. She was blind because of the disease and died at the age of 60.

It was as though someone was pointing a shotgun in my face at close range. The proverbial had just got real. Diabetes in the family. Heart disease in the family. My days were numbered.

There was no way I was going to allow this to happen.

Decisive action

I immediately cut out all sugars, having been a chocoholic all my life. I cut out the small amounts of whisky I liked to drink from time to time because a single shot was 50 calories immediately before bed. White rice and white pasta became brown rice and brown pasta. Fruit juice could only be drank at the right time of day, depending on how many calories I had consumed. I became a food saint almost overnight.

Diet was not the only thing that had to change. Whatever I was doing at the gym, no matter how strenuous, had failed to impact on my weight which had grown to a thumping 93 kg since I had suffered a back injury in 2003. Prior to that injury, almost daily running of between three and eight miles had allowed me to keep my weight down to around 75 kg. Once running became a hit and miss affair, it became very difficult to control my weight.

Faith moves mountains

For anyone who has found themselves unable to do certain exercises because of injury, I hope what I am about to say will inspire you. Since 2003, I had only done "speed miles" on the treadmill. I would blast out a mile in six minutes if I was on form. Then I would do my other stuff.

After the diabetes diagnosis, I decided that I was going to have to burn as many calories as I could on the treadmill for at least 25 minutes per session. I started by alternating between marching and trotting, focusing intensely on maintaining my posture to protect my back. The marching and trotting progressed to just trotting. Then the trotting progressed to trotting and running. The trotting and running progressed to just running and the running progressed to running with a 10 kg vest on!!

By March this year, I was able to run three miles with a 10 kg vest on, and I had already brought my weight down to around 88 kg. Without the vest, I cover three miles in just 22 minutes!

My fight became a "fight"

At the start of the year, I had invited a martial artist and fight promoter onto my radio show. He gave me VIP tickets to come to the next fight show, which happened to be in March.

I took my 10-year-old along and we watched several full-contact contests: boxing, kickboxing, and MMA. It was extremely exciting.

While I was watching, I had the overwhelming desire to get into the ring. It wasn't a wouldn't-it-be-exciting-to feeling. It was a loud calling. I got chatting to several old friends of mine that I knew from the martial arts community and I asked for their thoughts on a 47-year-old man getting in the ring for a full-contact kickboxing bout. Mostly, they said it would depend on the person. Then, to my amazement, an extremely well conditioned 47-year-old man stepped up for a bout with a young man. I was convinced.

Asking the boss

Getting in the ring was a way for me to focus all my energy on beating diabetes. There is no greater motivation for training hard than knowing another human being is going to do their best to knock you out. I wanted to know what my son would think. Would he want me to do it? Would he want to be there? Could he handle the implications of me getting into the ring?

"Leon," I said to my son, "I am getting in the ring for the next event. What do you think?"

"Go for it, Dad, " he said, with gusto.

We had several conversations more and I asked him how he would feel about someone beating the hell out of me or me losing the fight. He said he understood the reality of what I wanted to do and he wanted to be there. I spoke to my promoter friend, who agreed to train me, and that was that!

Training camp begins

The new journey started out well. I made my way down to AFK kickboxing in Sheffield to train with Farhad Ali and his expert team. Farhad has an excellent track record as a fighter himself and has trained the current UK no.2 (soon to be no.1) K1-rules kickboxing champion, Yousif Ibrahim. If anyone could get me ready, Farhad could.

Unfortunately, during my second or third session of sparring, I clashed knees with someone. It was a freak accident. My leg was finished. A sleepless night of agonising pain followed.

But I was absolutely determined to train. Like a fool, I tried jogging and I still sparred. The injury was repeatedly aggravated. Secondary injuries popped up because of the structural instability being caused by the knee damage. It felt like it was all over. That was just over FIVE weeks ago!

Four weeks of physio

Finally, I visited my GP, who happens to be a muscular-skeletal expert. Why had I not done this at the start? Had I been afraid he would tell me something I didn't want to hear? I now felt so foolish.

The specialist told me that it was highly likely the back of the knee cap had gone through substantial trauma during the initial impact and that some of it may have scraped away. He came to this conclusion by looking at what I could and couldn't do, where the pain was, and by taking into account that there had been absolutely no bruising or swelling. Could I still fight? The fight could go on but only if I focused solely on rehabilitating the knee by executing some simple physio exercises.

The plan was to do four weeks of physio and then to have some sparring sessions in the final week.

Fight week

Fight week arrived and the leg was feeling much better, however my plans for sparring and intense training were scuppered. A cold meant I had to take it easy. As an asthmatic, I had to avoid the risk of it moving to my chest. Worse still, car trouble made it very difficult to get to the gym or to my trainers in Sheffield.

During that week, I had another couple of blood tests to monitor my diabetes:

• Haemoglobin level (HbA1c) - 43 (pre-diabetic)
• Cholesterol: 4.5 (excellent reduction but still high risk; 3.5 or under is the target)

There was still work to do but the drop in sugar and cholesterol levels were still amazing.

"Dad, I feel so inspired."

It got to Friday night, the night before my fight. My son turned round to me and said, "Dad, I feel so inspired. When we watched the other fighters, you turned around to me and said you were going to get in the ring. Tomorrow, you are getting in the ring. That's awesome."

That almost brought tears to my eyes.

Fight night - Saturday, 7 July 2018

The time had come. At just 23 years old and at just over six foot, my opponent was less than half my age and over two inches taller than me. Furthermore, he was well experienced in the ring!

It was time for my pre-fight medical and weigh-in. What was my weight? 76.6 kg. I had lost almost 16 kg since my diabetes diagnosis!

Second round TKO

I entered the ring first to the sound of Welcome to the Jungle by Guns & Roses. My opponent made his way to the blue corner while we all boogied to Will Smith's Boom, Boom, Shake the Room.

How did I feel? Totally ready.

The fight itself was brutal. We had several intense exchanges of punches and my opponent was clearly aiming for my injured knee. By the end of the first round, it was as aggravated as ever and even though I was actually ahead in terms of points, I was going to be a sitting duck in the second. Was I about to get knocked out?

During the second round, I had no choice but to change stance so as to keep my injured knee out of danger. Then the tables were turned. My opponent threw a kick which I blocked with my left leg. His foot caught my knee and he collapsed to the ground in agony. It was over. I won the bout by technical knockout.

I consoled the young man before he was carried out of the ring by the medics. This wasn't the way I wanted to win a fight but then again I wouldn't have wanted to lose because of an injured knee either.

Keep moving forward

This had never been about beating another human being. It had been about overcoming adversity, overcoming the odds, overcoming the threat of heart disease and diabetes, and overcoming fear. It had been about being prepared to accept whatever was thrown at me while still moving forward. Even more than that, it was about taking a situation that I was going through and doing whatever I could to turn it into a positive so as to inspire others.

My nose bled until 5am on Sunday morning, by which time I was sporting two black eyes - something that happens when the bridge of the nose is struck. And my right knee will not be fully recovered for at least a month. Was it worth it? ABSOLUTELY!

• There's no such thing as "I can't"
• Obstacles are there to challenge us - not stop us
• Our mind can work for us or against us - mindset is everything
• Luck cuts both ways - had I not been in that fight, I would never have won
• When you challenge yourself to the limit, you are better prepared for what life will throw at you
• Age is just a number

This experience has helped me grow as a human being, as a trainer and coach, as a writer, and also as a speaker. I also learnt that when the pressure really hits, survival has even more to do with one's spirit and resolve than any kind of training we can be put through.

Whatever challenges you are facing at this time, I hope that my putting myself in a ring for a beating and coming out of the other side as a winner - despite injury, diabetes, asthma, age and lack of ring experience - will inspire you to realise that you have far more fight than you can ever imagine.

Mindset is our only limitation.

UPDATED 7/7/2020

And since then...

Facebook reminded me that this fight was two years ago, almost to the day. It gave me reason to reflect. What else have I done since then?

Well, firstly, I was compelled to get back into the ring. I told my trainer that I wanted some "6' 3" whipper-snapper of half my age". The first I knew about being matched with an opponent was when my trainer posted that I had asked for a 6' 3" whipper-snapper and he had found me a 6' 3" whipper-snapper—a 23-year-old mixed martial artist from the South West. My trainer thought it was hilarious. Be careful what you wish for.

Remember the Rocky movie, where his opponent was played by Dolph Lundgren? Here's a picture of me and my opponent squaring up before our fight.

Picture: Facing my opponent, 22-year-old Tom Wright, moments before our fight in April 2019. The refereee was telling us to fight like gentlemen.

I am not going to lie to you. When I realised I was fighting this giant, who should really have been fighting at a much heavier weight class than me, my first feeling was one of apprehension: Why am I doing this? Am I crazy? I could get hurt here.

But I very quickly switched to a more constructive internal dialogue: How will I beat someone who is half my age, five inches taller and with a longer kicking and punching reach? How will I train to accomplish the mission?

I won the first round...

Tom won that fight. I won the first round, but my team threw in the towel in the middle of the second because I was taking too many head shots. Apart from making sure I was fit enough to get through three rounds if need be—it was an amateur fight—my strategy was to get past his long reach, withstand whatever he had to give and win the fight from the inside. And do you know what? It almost worked.

From the get-go, I went for him with gusto, getting past his guard and raining blows on him. The problem was his height. While I won the round clearly, I didn't manage to land anything effectively because his head was so far away. The same thing happened in the second round.

Launching with a strong kick to his right leg, I charged in, and we ended up with a situation where I had a clear body shot. A strong left hook to the liver would have ended the fight, but in an instant, I saw his left leg retracting, and sensed what was coming—a full-on knee to my face.

Looking back, I know I should have landed the shot, but I didn't. I went on the retreat, but while I was thinking about the possibility of a knee to my face, he had other ideas and a straight right ploughed squarely into my nose, knocking me to the floor. I bounced straight back up again, but the conversation changed between us!

Take a look for yourself...

Video: I am the guy with the tattoo. That's kanjo for Zen in Japanese or Chan in Mandarin, and it means meditation—it's also my logo. Before you press play, you can see five-times world Muay Thai boxing legend Ronnie Green in my corner giving me some encouragement.

The effectiveness of mental programming

It was interesting that everything I had trained for came into fruition. No, I didn't win, but I did play out my game plan to the letter. One of the key elements of my training was the mental programming I put myself through. I visualised the fight and I followed through with the strategy. However, I had told myself that his techniques would bounce off me, and I told myself that nothing he could hit me with could hurt me.

Resetting mindsets and mental programming is something I specialise in, however I had used the wrong programming for my fight. I more sensible program would have been to suggest that I could move like lightning, that I could move in and out of my opponent's guard and not be there when he threw his own techniques. He did land techniques, I withstood them, and I continued to charge forward, but that's why my team had to throw in the towel. And it's also the reason why I ended up with a vitrous humour detachment in my right eye.

Will there be a next time?

I will be 50 years old next month, and to celebrate my first half century on this planet, I was going to get back in the ring. I've won one and lost one. Could I win again. However, Covid-19 has made it impossible. Maybe next year. Watch this space.

This year, my own training has changed from bag work, conditioning and sparring to tai chi, karate kata and qigong. From a teaching perspective, I have succeeded in making the transition to Zoom, and my one-to-one students are coming on in leaps and bounds. In order to develop myself and to help those who are struggling with lockdown, I launched Locked Down Tai Chi Free and run free group sessions via Zoom.

Walk the walk

My slogan is Express Your Truth With Clarity. That's how I am living my life. If I want to do something, I make it happen. My mission is to help other people to do the same. Whether I am ghostwriting and editing for people, training others to do martial arts, helping others in some therapeutic way with mindfulness or interviewing interesting people on the radio, the principle I live by is to walk the walk.

Are you walking your walk?

How are you going to challenge yourself this year? Let me know in the comments.

Peace and love to you all!