Wrestling Your Bladder

Craig Gudorf — Wrestling Your Bladder

Every high school wrestler has a story about losing weight. The stakes are high because if you can’t make weight for your match, you don’t wrestle that night. And if you don’t wrestle, your team might lose. But this isn’t a story about a wrestler losing weight. In fact, it’s just the opposite. So let me set the stage for you. I’m on a bus with my high school team. We’re going to a neighboring school. We have a meet that night. We get off the bus. We go into the locker room. We all get in line because you have to get on a scale in front of a referee to weigh in and validate that you are actually achieving your weight class, that you don’t weigh too much. I get on the scale that night. I weigh 181.5 pounds. Big relief. You see, I’m wrestling 185 that night. I’m 3 and 1 half pounds underweight. So relieved. Except then my coach speaks up and he says, hey, ref, I changed my mind.

Craig is actually going to wrestle heavyweight tonight. And the ref goes, well, that’s a problem. You see, to wrestle heavyweight, you have to weigh a minimum of 185 pounds. So my coach goes, so you mean he has to gain weight tonight to wrestle? That’s right. And how much time does he have to gain this weight? Nine minutes. So my coach says, he has nine minutes to gain three and a half pounds? Ref goes, uh-huh. My coach looks at me. He looks at the water fountain. Start drinking. So do you remember those water fountains in school, the white porcelain ones, where you’d push your thumb on the button and hardly any water would come out? So I attach my lips to little spout and I’m sucking up the water, I’m sucking up the water, and then after two minutes I’ve gained half a pound. This is taking too long! My coach yells. So somebody runs to the sink, they grab a cup, they fill it up and I pound it down.

Again, he yells. Go to the sink, fill it up with water, pound it down. More, he yells. Keep repeating this stuff. I’ve drank like six glasses of water and you guys, I’m so full. I get on the scale, I still have two pounds to go. Back to the sink, fill up the glass, drink it down. The ref puts up his hands, two minutes. Back to the stand, fill it up. I’m so uncomfortable. Finally, get up on the scale. With seconds to spare, the ref gives me the thumbs up. My coach gives me a high five. He’s like, Craig, nice job. He goes, by the way, that guy over there, he’s your opponent tonight. And I look over across the locker room. It’s a 240 pound gorilla. And I’m 185s with a big water full of belly. Hold on, a big belly full of water. That’s what I meant to say. Anyway, the match starts. Okay, we all are out there.

The lightweights go first. The teams are evenly matched. They win the first one, we win the second. They win the third one, we win the fourth. It keeps going and going. And the pressure is building in the gym. And the pressure is building in my bladder. Finally, it’s time for the heavyweights. The score is tied. It’s winner take all. If I win, we win. If I lose, all is lost. I get out on the mat, I shake my opponent’s hand, and the ref blows the whistle. We start circling each other cautiously. Suddenly, I shoot at his legs. I take him down to the mat. I turn him onto his back, and my teammates start cheering. And my coach yells, pin him, pin him. And I’m squeezing him so tight, but my stomach’s about to explode. And I’m squeezing him. I’m squeezing him. And finally, the ref blows the whistle, slaps the mat, matches over. I’ve won. I jump up on my feet. jump up on my feet. My teammates rush out onto the mat, but I am long gone.

Back to the locker room to take a long-awaited pee.