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A different kind of making weight

I’m currently struggling through the tail end of some shitty fucking writer’s block, not of the “Oh I can’t write anything” variety but the “Everything I write is about as funny as ” target=”_blank”>a direct to DVD Dr Doolittle sequel” sort, so it may be a few more days before I properly document my trip to Chicago to see our girl Roxanne Modafferi fight. But Roxy’s cornerman and head honcho Kirik Jenness has an excellent writeup on the whole shebang, from fight week preparation to the fight to post fight happenings. Included in there is why Roxy had to spend half the week stuffing herself full of food:

The fight was at 145 (with a one pound allowance as it was non title), Roxy walks around at 137 or so, can lose five pounds in a single workout, and the commission rule was there could be maximum five pounds difference. Marloes is usually listed at 70 kg (154 lbs) so we figured she would take the extra pound. To be safe Roxy had to make 141. The plan entailed a two-pronged approach, first, IHOP, second, water.

IHOP has made an international institution out of convincing soon to be fatter people that dessert is a meal. Americans don’t take that much convincing, but Pecan Pie Pancakes are not the right way to start the day, unless that is, you are about to fight Marloes Coenen. Other useful meals included the healthy sounding Country Omelet with 1343 calories and Country Sausage Loaded Hash Browns with 1700 calories.

The scale was edging up and the final push began with breakfast, first course cheesecake, and finally involved pounding water while waiting to be called out for the public weigh in. The only problem is that girls have a bladder the size of a mustard seed. First Roxy looked determined, then alarmed, then ashen, then she said I HAVE TO GO. Roxy is a warrior not a complainer; go means go.

I went over to Marloes’s trainer Martijn de Jong to ask whether she would be taking the extra one pound? He looked puzzled, said “For the catch weight? Of 150 pound?” I stopped breathing, he cocked his head, looked inquisitive, before finally breaking into a wide grin. “Hahaha you got me” I replied while imagining a stick of dynamite in his head, the burning fuse coming out of his nose.

The water pounding began anew. Weigh in was in jeans at 141.6. Marloes weighed in wearing pretty much nothing but a six pack at 145.2, commission took something off for the jeans, and another pre fight worry was over.

Seriously, if you want an insider’s view into the Roxy fight then this is the read for you.