Sep 1989: I'm going down to 114.5

I'm in Dubuque today. I came up last night to be with Jenny. I can't wrestle because I f---ed up my shoulder in practice yesterday against Terry Brands.

I'm planning on going 114.5 for the Sunkist Open next month. It's a 4.5-pound allowance, so I only have to make 119. I say "only" 119 like it's no big deal, but it's going to be a big cut for me. The lowest I've been here is 125.5, so it's an additional 6.5 pounds.

If I go down for the full season, it looks like this:

Sunkist: 114.5 + 4.5 = 119
Drake Open: 118 + 3 = 121
Northern Open: 118 + 3 = 121
UNI Open: 118 + 3 = 121
Midlands: 118 + 3 = 121
Florida Open: 114.5 + 4.5 = 119
Michigan Open: 114.5 + 4 = 118.5
Tri-State Open (Ft. Madison): 114.5 + 1 = 115.5
Freestyle Nationals = 114.5

I'm completely broke. I talked to the bank yesterday and got my car payments reduced from $144 to $78. It will extend the loan by 7 months, but that's okay. I didn't have any income for the week and a half that I was at the training camp, and now I'm screwed.

Everyone on the team got their body-fat percentages measured today. Mine was the lowest on the team: 6.67%.

There were only 10 of us under 8%. They were Terry and Tom Brands (126 & 134), Troy and Terry Steiner (142 & 150), Tom Ryan (a transfer from Syracuse who will be at 158), Ryan Sugai (134), Chris Gapin (134), Keith Trammel (167), and Paul Zina (134). I was the only one under 7%.

I weighed in at 135. My "ideal" weight, according to the official formula, is 132.6. Gable and I have already determined that I'm going down to 114.5 this year--so that's 18 pounds of water and probably some muscle too.

It scares me to make a commitment to someone else.

The people that I've met so far in my life, for the most part, I'll probably never see again. And I don't care. It's like they were movie images participating in my life.

I'm good at commitments. It's just that so far they have always been to myself.

I wrestled really crappy against Zaputil today. I'm just not wrestling like I should be. Maybe my concentration isn't there.

I've got to get this All-American thing under my belt. I want to marry Jenny and move to New York and have a career and raise a family, and all of this wrestling stuff will be behind me. I'm killing myself. I'm postponing my life. I'm making Jenny put her life on hold for me. I'm getting my ass kicked by 19-year-olds.

I want to beat Martin bad. I want to beat Zaputil bad. I want to consistently go even with Davis. I want to beat Terry Brands. God, I don't want Zaputil to get ahead of me. Or Bruhl. Last time we wrestled he beat me.

I've got to practice more, drill more. What the f--- did he do to me today? He hasn't been wrestling as much as I have.

I need power AND control. Not just power. Not just control. Not just offense. Not just defense. I can't give stuff away.

All right, f--- it, get off this subject, I'll worry about it later.


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