Now if you look at this picture, and guess that I spent Saturday at the pool, catching some sun, listenting to good music, surrounded by beautiful women................you would be right, but that's not the whole story.
I spent this morning getting my leg broken by Forrest Griffin. ha ha It's been an intense week of training, and I wanted to finish it up with a good workout. I went to the Warrior Training Center to catch the Saturday open Muay Thai sparring practice. I got a few warmup rounds with some of the lower level guys, then it was into the ring with Mike Whitehead. Got some good rounds with him. I finished up the day going a couple of rounds with Forrest Griffin. We were going at a pretty good pace, intense, but nothing too heavy, when I think I must have caught him with a punch that was maybe a little too heavy for the speed we were going. Real fighters have a killer instinct. When they get hit with a good one, it pisses them off, and they come back at you even harder. It's like hitting a nitrous button. Now I don't care how many time I hear what a weakling, no talent scrub Forrest is, the guy does have some athletic ability, and he is pretty solid. I sure felt it when he kicked me in the leg so hard, it swept both my legs out from underneath me, and I landed on my shoulder on the canvas with a thud. That's just plain embarrassing. I got up, fired up, started throwing some heavier shit, wanting some payback. I'm hoping I hit him with something good, but I don't think I did. I think I was too busy standing back up after he kicked my legs out from underneath me two more times. And that's how the round, and the workout ended. Now you know I'm joking about Forrest being a no talent scrub. He's a genuinely good guy. He works his ass off. He's a great fighter, and a great workout partner. I feel really fortunate to have had the chance to do some training with him in my preparation for the TUF 7 fight.
So I hobble into the apartment after practice, ready to collapse on the couch and watch some TV. My roommate, Brent is sitting there, on the edge of the couch, all geared up, with his baseball cap, sunglasses, and backpack. "Man I gotta get out of here, I gotta get out of this apt. You wanna head up the the pool at the Red Rock with me?" I had nothing else going on.
The first picture on this blog is very misleading. To those of you who might be assuming that since I am a UFC fighter, and somewhat known out in public, I get VIP treatment everywhere I go, and I'm always surrounded by high rollers, and beautiful women, you're completely wrong. The girls in the picture had no idea who I was. Brent met them. They stopped and talked to me for a second, and were off again. I was just chillin by myself most of the day. One girl did come up and talk to me. What was it she said? "A beard in Vegas? What happened? You lose a bet?"
Just kidding around with this. Had good time. A beard isn't the going thing in Vegas right now. It's definitely not a chick magnet. I've got far more important things on my mind than that right now.
Can't beat the scenery.
I did catch some sun, listen to some good music, and there were quite a few lovely ladies there. They just weren't hanging out with me. Yeah, had a good time, even with the broken leg.