Health Risks Won't Stop Fighters from Weight Cutting

It's an early Sunday morning in Iowa on the last weekend of June. Wade O'Brien sits in the passenger seat of a Chrysler Town & Country minivan—his coach behind the wheel—watching the sun as it begins to make its ascend into the sky. The two drive by several gyms in search of a sauna, but their hunt yields nothing but locked doors.

O'Brien has eight pounds to lose before his Muay Thai championship fight and less than two hours to do it. His coach turns to him and says, "It's time for the van sauna." Five minutes later, O'Brien finds himself sitting in a parking lot with the heat cranked as high as it will go. He's fully clothed, wearing jogging pants and a heavy sweater layered underneath a sauna suit.

There's a bang on the window every so often. O'Brien holds out a thumbs up in response. His coach, who decided to wait on the curb after a few minutes of being in the van, checks on him periodically to make sure he hasn't passed out.

"Take a really hot, humid day and put someone in that hot humid day who has a bad case of asthma… then times that by 10. That's what it feels like," said O'Brien. "I was lightheaded and it got to the point where I zoned out. You're drained afterward."

O'Brien's everyday weight hovers around 178 pounds. Prior to a fight, competitors are expected to cut down in order to make a specific weight class. The logic behind the ritual is: the bigger you are, the harder you hit. Fighters that pull lower numbers on the scale are able to gain a size advantage over their opponents as a result of dehydration tactics. When they actually walk into the ring after the recovery period, they're usually 10–15 pounds heavier.

The rules are different for amateur and professional fighters, but if the pros fail to make weight they can face a penalty—in some cases, it could be a fine upwards of $100 for every pound over. Weight cutting rules also differ based on the various fight sports and the specific state commission regulating the event.

For the Thai Boxing Association-Sanctioning Authority's amateur North American championship, O'Brien fought at 159 pounds. Cutting 15–20 pounds prior to a fight isn't uncommon—for most, it's standard practice. This is done using both gradual approaches and other tactics that may seem "batshit crazy" to most people.

Warren Lee, instructor and owner of Toronto Kickboxing and Muay Thai Academy, said that in the weeks leading up to a fight, fighters start a strict training regiment and adapt a low carb, high protein diet—that means no refined foods, no sugar and no salt. The fighters are essentially limited to meat, eggs, nuts and vegetables. By the time competition day rolls around, any remaining weight is usually just water, which is where these sauna suits—among other strange methods—come into play.

After an intense workout in the sauna suit prior to leaving for Iowa, O'Brien weighed in at 162 pounds—just three pounds over what he needed to be at. He hadn't eaten or drank anything all day and wasn't planning to. For the duration of the 12-hour drive, he sucked on sugarless hard candies and spit his saliva into a plastic water bottle to rid himself of excess liquids.

When he stepped on the scale, the number read 157. It wasn't until his second weigh in two days later, right before the championship fight Sunday, that he thought to himself, "holy shit, I've got to cut a lot of weight."

After the initial weigh in, competitors are allowed to rehydrate and eat normally. In some competitions, however, if they advance to the final round of fights, they're expected to weigh in yet again. This time, they get a one-pound allowance.

O'Brien weighed 157 on Thursday and by Saturday night, he was back up to 169 pounds. A rubbing alcohol and Epsom salt bath combined with hours spent in a hot tub brought him down four pounds, but the next morning he woke up to find that he'd gained three back.

Time for the van sauna.

"I was in there for an hour. When I took the sauna suit off, water gushed out. There was a huge puddle," said O'Brien. "I lost eight pounds and had to fight that same day."

Rapid weight loss can put major stress on the body. Janet Huehls, a clinical exercise physiologist and certified wellness coach at UMass Memorial Weight Center, said that water loss deprives the body of electrolytes, like sodium and potassium. This can affect normal cell functions—especially in muscle cells, including the heart. When the level of water within our bodies drops, so does the blood volume. Since blood is made up of 90 percent water, this means the heart needs to work harder to perform normal circulation and pump oxygen throughout the body.

John Berardi, an expert in the field of sports nutrition, conducted an experiment where his subject spent 34 days drastically manipulating his body weight. Berardi wrote that if a person dehydrates themselves by one percent, they will experience temporary strain on their heart and a short-term drop in aerobic endurance. Five percent dehydration means reduced strength and motor skills, along with potential fatigue, heat exhaustion and a lowered mental capacity. Hallucinations or heat stroke can occur at ten percent. Anything over ten percent presents the worst case scenario—a coma or, in extreme circumstances, death.

Lee has seen a handful of crazy instances in his years of training, most of which have involved sauna suits.

"The majority of the human body is made of water. Some people can lose ten pounds in a few hours. It comes as such a shock to your body," he said. "I've seen it all. Everyone reacts differently. It's like jet lag—some people get over it in a day, and for others, it takes an entire week."

Robin Macmillan, known as "the weight cutting queen" by people at her gym, has been fighting competitively for two years and has earned herself three championship belts. Her normal weight is around 140 pounds, but she usually fights at 125.

At a competition last year, her coaches asked if she wanted to try fighting at 142. She agreed, but then broke her nose while sparring. It was then recommended she drop down to the 135-pound class—which meant losing 12 pounds with only 10 days to go before the fight—in an attempt to avoid serious injury.

It can be a lot more difficult for women to cut water weight because they're more likely to retain it. According to Jeffrey Utz, a neuroscientist and pediatrician from Allegheny University, the female body is made up of 55 percent water—this is approximately five percent less than the average male has. Women also tend to carry more weight as fat while men naturally have more muscle. Since fat is 50 percent water and muscle is 75 per cent water, a male is able to shed up to five extra pounds.

To make weight, Macmillan drastically reduced her food and water intake, started sleeping in her sauna suit, and was waking up at 4 AM to jump rope while still wearing said suit. On the final day of her cut, she layered on sweaters, a toque and mittens, zipped the sweat-inducing suit overtop her clothes, and sat in a steam room. She compares the entire process to that of turning a grape into a raisin.

"You start to feel weak, your mouth gets really otton dry and you just want water. You don't care about food at this point, even though you haven't eaten in a while. You just have to hold on mentally until you weigh in," she said. "I'll never forget the first time my trainer told me to put on the sauna suit. I had to train with it on and your body feels like it's 100 more pounds… you just can't wait to get that thing off you."

She did hold on, both physically and mentally, and took home the championship belt, despite the fact that she only had three hours of recovery time. She says the entire process is an art.

When O'Brien stepped into the ring that Sunday afternoon, he was drained— figuratively and literally. His coach turned to him and said, "leave everything in the ring… give it your all."

"I thought to myself, 'We've come this far, we've trained so hard and I have one fight left.' I don't think there's anything I wouldn't have done at that point," O'Brien said. "I was running on a high of adrenaline and got motivation because my kids were there."

"The team was behind me the whole time."

After a trio of two-minute rounds, he was handed the belt. He won.

For competitive fighters, the cut is half the battle. It's a gruelling mental and physical process that requires determination and perseverance. O'Brien, however, has no qualms about doing it again. In fact, he started his most recent weight cut earlier this month.