Did you know? One gallon of water is 8.34 pounds.
This weekend was the Sambo Nationals. Given that it was, for once, right in my neck of the woods, and I've done well in our two local Sambo competitions, I decided to give it a shot. After all, "Sambo National Champion" would look pretty swell on a resume, wouldn't it? Sambo is a lot smaller in the US than Judo or BJJ, so winning such a title is, in theory, much easier.
The weight classes immediately had me nervous, though. I walk around day-to-day at about 162-163.5. The cutoffs were 'below 163' and 'below 149.9'. There were, of course, weigh ins the night before (otherwise, this would have been an easy decision, and I would have been perfectly positioned!). If I didn't cut, in other words, I would be facing people stronger than me that did. But if I wanted to do the same, I would have to drop all the way down... about 13 lbs.
Within the two weeks before the tournament, I acquired a medium-grade intercostal (rib muscles) tear, and had a ligament in my ankle torn by the toehold I wrote about elsewhere on this blog. However, taking it easy on the rib seemed like it would be enough to make it through a few matches (I'm young and eat healthy, good rate of recovery), and the ankle seemed to have great mobility--since toeholds were illegal, the only risk would be accidentally rolling my ankle, though I seemed to be doing fine on that front. I've read about the injuries other greats have competed with; compared to them, mine are nothing.
I've cut weight many times before. I've been in probably 10~ tournaments in the past two or so years. The lowest I've cut to was 155, and at the time I was walking around closer to 164/165. That time I used much wiser, slow methods--hyper hydration, salt and carb restriction, and a touch of sauna at the end. The eating part was the most irritating, and the sauna portion took so much weight off relatively easy, that I decided this time to try mixing it up.
At first I wasn't going to cut the weight. I really like salt. Then a friend convinced me, in passing, that I should--he'd lost almost 10 pounds once the morning of a comp, he said. (Of course, he weighs closer to 220 most of the time... Let's ignore that for now.)
Hell, I said. It's nationals. If I won it, it'd be epic. It was worth pushing for.
So, two day before weigh in, I had little water, and 3 eggs for breakfast, very little salt. (Bleh.) That night, 24 hours before weigh in, I ate a sushi roll. (I regretted this decision. Do steak instead, and eat it 30 hours before.)
Late that night, trying to give my body a chance to absorb as much nutrition from the days' food as possible, I took some laxative. I put on 3 layers of clothes and a lot of blankets, turned off the AC, and hoped to sweat a bit during the night.
Next morning, I woke up went to the bathroom. About 158, and very thirsty already.
Not going to be a fun day.
So I drag myself to the Sauna. I have about 7 hours to do this before I need to start driving to the weigh-in site. I sit in for about 20 minutes. Can't take anymore. Walk out, and weigh myself (brought my own scale). Repeat.
The further you get, the more miserable it gets, and the less your body is willing to give up heat.
I'm going to take a moment to pauseIf you're reading this and considering replicating my process, please, take note: this is dangerous. be very, very vigilant about not letting your body overheat. overheating is deadly. listen to your body. People HAVE died cutting weight.
As I start getting to 153, I am very, very ready to quit. It's been a couple hours. It's getting harder, but I still have most of the day ahead of me. I grab my phone that was charging, and start taking pictures of the scale to share with my friends who know what I'm putting myself through.
Me: This is so, so miserable.
Friend: The sauna?
Me: Yes.
Me: It's like Hell, Lite™
Another couple hours to go. I start feeling unbelievably miserable. I lay down in the cool locker room between sessions, miserable. One time I actually doze off a bit for 5 minutes near the end.
Part of the frustration is the lack of precision. My scale would have readings vary up to 1.8 pounds within seconds. The precision required at this tournament was .1 kg, or .22 lbs. That meant that I really should shoot for 148 to be safe.
Part of the frustration is the lack of precision. My scale would have readings vary up to 1.8 pounds within seconds. The precision required at this tournament was .1 kg, or .22 lbs. That meant that I really should shoot for 148 to be safe.
After a while you realize a few things. One is that every time you come out and cool down, you have to spend 7 minutes warming your body up to the point of sweating again. So cooling down is a cursed blessing. Another is that you can speed that process up by just standing right next to the heating element and leaning over it.
Finally hit this mark for once, but also hit 151.6 in the same few seconds.
When I finally get there, there are two cheap scales in the back. I hop on one, can't get the other one to turn on. I'm technically weighing in in kilograms. The cutoff is 68kg, with .1kg error margin.
I go in for a test-weigh. The scale says 68.4
I walk out, asking what that means. A friend of mine walks me back in, tells me to weigh in again, shows me how the other scale works. It shows 68.2. He knows I've worked for this, he vouches for me, he knows the scales aren't accurate enough for it to be fair to punish me on an extra .1kg past the margin--I wonder if that means I get an 'out' because I know him. But then I grab my paperwork and have to go weigh in one more time, with the official I don't know, with the paperwork.
As I said, scales vary from reading to reading at this level.
I step on it.
Moment of truth.
68.1.
That was too freaking close.
That is 150.1~ lbs. about 13.4 lbs less than my standing weight.
If I had any fluid in me, I would consider crying... But I'm too tired to even be emotional, frankly. Nothing seems to mean anything when you're that empty. Nothing except the simple, slow pleasure of food and water. And even that hurts a bit.
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I proceeded to consume as much water and food as I could stomach, as fast as I could--which wasn't much, and wasn't very fast. Still, by that night, I was 159.5 (and then ate some more after that). The next morning, still couldn't quite hit 160.
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My conclusion? Don't cut more than 10 lbs, ever--as someone in the 165~ weight range. Even with weigh-ins the night before, getting past 153 was just unreasonable, and felt like I was hitting the
.
But seriously. I'll probably never really do more than 6 water weight in the future, with weigh ins the night before, and maybe 2 if the morning-of. But I'm going to be all about that diet, just switch to keto and hard training. Better results, and actually healthy for you--and, as I learned, not as miserable.
Here is a picture of me the next day, after the competition, at about 163 again, with some food in me:
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Unfortunately, in a sense, it will still all for nothing. I lost completely the next day. But that's for part II.
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