The Festival of Manliness pt 1

Going back about a year ago, I remember I was shopping for pants. I grabbed my usual size, 30x30, and they were just too tight. Embarrassed, I asked my buddy to grab a bigger size. As he handed me the new pair, he said, “Going up one size is okay, but when you go up two sizes, you have to worry…” I tried those on… and they were still too tight.

Somewhere along the way, I had gotten fat. I’m not sure if no one really noticed or if they just didn’t say anything. In fact, people would argue with me when I said I was fat, as if it were up for debate. But then I got on one of those fancy scales that breaks down your ranges based on size, muscle, fat, and bone density. And there it was, for the first time ever: the scale ready, not overweight but obese and a body age in the 40s.

For a while, I redirected my frustration toward my friends and family. The calories had snuck up on me, but how come no one told me? Surely everyone noticed. But at some point, I took on the responsibility myself. For six months, I adjusted my life to live by two rules: eat intentionally and sweat every day.

Doing this, I lost roughly 20 pounds and the scale still showed me as obese.

I needed to do more. I know I’m someone who needs a goalpost. Somewhere along my travels, I heard about the Naadam festival in Mongolia, a festival that translates to the three games of men and later folks coined it as “The Festival of Manliness”This three part competition is deeply rooted in Mongolia Culture and tied to Ghengis Khan as well. Khan started this festival as more of a military draft in the 13th century. To find the absolute best warriors and leaders Khan would judge his people on archery, long distance horse races, and Bokh wrestling, which became my focus. 

Their wrestling was a bit similar to Sumo, first person to the ground loses. However, there is no ring thus putting a much heavier emphasis on big throws rather than pushing. Also… not in my favor there are no weight classes. And also... the wear these attire... for ummmm I assume aerodynamics, yes i'll be wearing one.

Now, I wrestled for exactly one year in elementary school, so it seemed like a natural fit. I knew that if I could figure out a way to get them to let me into the competition, it would give me the ultimate goalpost: something cool, difficult, foreign, and culturally significant.

I let the idea rattle around my head for a few weeks until I was down in Guatemala, climbing the very active Volcano Acatenango. The ascent absolutely crushed me. The hike was tough and the altitude sickness hit hard, but more than anything, I realized I was more out of shape than I had ever been. It was completely unacceptable and embarrassing. I had more travel scheduled for the next few weeks, but I knew right there on that volcano that massive changes had to be made.

When I finally got back home, there were a little over 100 days left until I would need to embark for Mongolia if I wanted to compete.

I spent the next few days researching diets, fitness programs, vices, habit formation, habit destruction, ultra-athletes, and everything in between. Then, I built a plan to prepare and train as if I were a top athlete for the next 100 days, leveraging this competition as my definitive goalpost to get into the best physical shape of my life.

First, the things that had to be cut:

• No alcohol.

• No cigars or pipe tobacco.

• No late nights, in bed, alone, by 10:00 PM every night.
  

Then, the things that needed to be added:

• Two workouts a day (minimum of 10 per week), leaving a bit of variance to listen to my body.

• A gallon of water a day, with electrolytes four days a week.

• An 8 pack of vitamins.

• 5 mg of creatine.
  

Diet adjustments:

• A descending caloric deficit, starting at 1,900 calories and decreasing to as little as 1,500.

• Protein: 180 grams minimum, ideally from whole foods, but supplemented with shakes when necessary.

• Later I added Sodium: Under 2,000 mg, descending down to 1,500 mg.
  

I knew for this to work, I couldn’t give myself a single day off or a single cheat day. I’m a big believer that it is significantly easier to give 100% to something than it is to give 99%.

I also knew I needed to fall in love with the process. I couldn’t, and didn’t want to, suffer for 100 days just for the sake of suffering.

After building out the plan, I turned my garage into a gym. The 100 days were starting, even if I didn’t fully know the logistics of how I'd actually get into the festival yet. We’d figure those details out later.

I'm lifting every morning, weighted runs or battle rope in the evening and then sometimes, just for fun I'll do another non-weighted run. Then on Sundays, probably the hardest one for me and took the longest to lock in on... Yoga preferably Hot Yoga. My heavy lifts are Fridays and Saturdays, still never maxing but hitting 5 heavier reps instead of the normal 12 reps. Honestly, it didn’t take long to fall in love with it. After a few weeks of figuring out when it made sense to work out, I fell into a routine. I loved the workouts, loved my garage gym, and loved the intense dieting. I loved that my life kept throwing me every excuse in the world to have a cheat day. New job with a commute? Fine. Free food at work? Fine. Happy hours, work dinners, conferences, customer trips, birthday parties, NBA games? All fine.

Something just flipped in me. I never thought about skipping a workout or grabbing a milkshake at Five Guys in the airport. It’s hard to explain exactly, but it’s like waking up in the morning and something stopping you from brushing your teeth… it just doesn't happen. You always brush when you wake up, right?

I remember the exact moment I realized the difference. I was in New York City on a work trip. My office went pizza hopping to three different shops, one after another, to try authentic New York slices. I joined everyone, watching delicious looking pizza being chomped down back-to-back, washed down with beer. While it looked fun, it just couldn’t be me. The craziest part is, I did all that while waiting patiently for the social hour to end so I could go get my own dinner.

For the most part, there was never a "do I / don't I" conversation in my head. I was wired in.

But then came the part I didn’t love.

I didn’t tell very many people about the sheer scale of what I was doing, or that the true point of this crazy wrestling goal was just a massive psychological hook to force myself into shape. But among the few people I did tell, I was met with two extremes. First were the people who relished in how incredibly ridiculous this was, but believed in me without hesitation: Jazzlynn, Britt, Haley, Chels, Marissa, Yesha, Derek, and Colby. I really loved and appreciated how supportive they were on this journey.

Then there was another group, whose knee jerk reaction was either transparently negative or consisted of comments that seemed supportive but were actually backhanded.

Honestly, those negative comments weighed on me way more than they should have. I carried that weight for around 40 days until I just couldn’t take it anymore.

I finished a workout one day, unhappy with my performance, and for some reason, I just couldn’t stop fixating on the negativity. How could those closest to me not believe in me? I could hear the storylines they were creating about what I’d do and why I was going. Stuff they just added from my simple statement of I’m going to compete in the Nadaam Festival.

I couldn't stand it anymore. I grabbed a Sharpie, walked over to my wall, and wrote out the "Wall of Hate" right there on my bare gym wall.. I wrote down every mean or backhanded comment someone had said to me.

Still dripping sweat, I stared at that wall and decided I wasn’t going to suppress the negativity anymore. In fact, I was going to turn the volume way up on it.

I restarted the workout. From the very beginning.

Afterward, I started calling out the people on that wall. Maybe they weren't great conversations, but soon after, I started to feel a shift in tone. Some apologized, some started supporting me, and some just stayed quiet, all of which I really appreciated. From day 50 on, not a single person was added to the wall.

I want to grow with the ones I love, not in spite of them.

Then, there is one different type of friend. The one who started asking for specific details about dates and travel.

I hadn’t asked anyone to join me on this trip, mostly because who else would want to go toss Mongols?

But seeing his curiosity, I asked if he was interested in joining.

All he replied was: “I’m down.”

Now my buddy Daniel won't just be joining me on the trip; he’s going to compete!

Daniel and I travel well together. We’ve spent a lot of time in Florida, Turks and Caicos, and Colombia. I’m thrilled to have him, but anytime someone comes along, I feel a little extra pressure to have things arranged beforehand, rather than just winging it and asking around when we get there.

Through a friend, I managed to get a contact in Mongolia. I had to explain several times that we wanted to compete, not just watch, something that was a bit lost on her for awhile. . When she finally understood, she said… foreigners don’t compete in the Festival, I’ve never had anyone try. I said what I do in all of these circumstances.  If a foreigner wanted to compete, how would they even go about it?

As the Naadam festival spread across the entire country, she started inquiring with local villages and communities to see who would even allow us to join.

She eventually came back to us with a small, local village called Khatgal, which sits on Lake Khövsgöl, an area famous for its  about 4,000 reindeer and a population of about 3,000 people

So now, the focus is just getting in peak shape, avoiding injury, and getting to the competition.

Today is Day 90. I’m proud of my progress so far. This is my most intense diet and workout week until I have some slower days prior to the trip.  In 10 days, I board a 17-hour flight to Tokyo, stay there for a couple of days, take a six-hour flight to Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia, and then hop in a car to drive 11 hours north on dirt roads.

Then, the journey really begins.