Flipping cold

Have you ever seen a 300-pound man attempt a back flip?

After the circuit lift many of T.R. Foley's friends couldn't wait to de-robe and get their photo taken.

I'd just finished a circuit lift with three-dozen Megatron-sized Mongolian wrestlers and was lying in the grass appealing to all available deities to please repair my quads quickly enough to walk to dinner. Suddenly, in the way you know someone's staring at you from across the room, I was jarred into sitting upright. What greeted me was one of the younger wrestlers, donning no clothes, save his banana-hammock underwear, doing cartwheels and finishing them off by throwing his hands to the sky and his knees to his chest -- the way an Olympic diver might build momentum from the spring board.

Because nobody at camp spoke a lick of English and I was compelled by my good nature to save a life, I said what I was thinking, knowing I was free of being understood, "Hey! Uh, this guy's not going to ... I mean ... he's not ... c'mon, really guys?" They ignored my appeal.

Once more the banana-hammocked hero with thighs too large to sprint trotted down the grass and knocked-off a practice cartwheel and leapt into the air, fingers tickling the sky. By now a crowd of Mongolian wrestlers clad in nothing but their underoos had created a small runway from which the keg-shaped gymnast was going to perform his stunt, and in all likelihood break his neck. My conscience clear, I sat up and waited for the fall.

A little more speed, a touch more determination and Boom! a cartwheel into a double-back handspring finished off by a pinwheel-perfect back flip. Whichever God I thought was helping me to push lactic acid from my spindly legs had obviously been pre-occupied in protecting the oversized Dominique Muciano during his floor routine. I limped to dinner and the big ol' gymnast gave a firm middle finger to the laws of physics.

A storm was brewing

I'd arrived at the training camp that afternoon from Ulan Bator, the capital of Mongolia, where I'd been staying for a few days as Turtogtokh Luvsandorj set up my arrival at camp. And this wasn't just any ordinary wrestling camp, it was the training camp for Usukhbayar, arguably the most popular wrestler in Mongolia. A four-time Nadaam champion, he's something of an immortal and for good reason. The last time he won Nadaam was 2009 he endured a three-hour semifinals match that only ended when he went belly-to-belly with his opponent. Saying his name lights up a room, he's nothing short of the Michael Jordan of Mongolian Bokh (wrestling).

When Turtogotkh dropped me at camp (he was preparing for the World Team Trial in Mongolia) he imparted three directions: make a shoveling motion when I wanted to eat, clasp my hands by my ear when I wanted to sleep, and break out my stance when I wanted to wrestle. Everything else he said, would be easy.

The Mongolian Bokh training camp was structured a lot like the summer wrestling camps I worked for at The University of Virginia. The first full day consisted of an early morning conditioning workout followed by breakfast. Then it was Nap. Lunch. Nap. Wrestle. Nap. Dinner. Nap. Yogurt. Bed. Lose the fresh made yogurt and it's a pretty universal training camp.

It was shaping up to be a great time, but the morning after my arrival wrestling practice was cancelled because the weather had turned "cold," which is a problem for a sport that is performed outdoors in nothing more than a speedo and an open-breasted half-jacket.

Big man here is wearing a del, the traditional winter coat worn by most Mongolians

Mongolians are some of the hardiest people on the planet -- their name is almost synonymous with burly tough men. Mongolia is a tough place, the average year-round temperature in Ulan Bator is 27 degrees Fahrenheit, making it the coldest national capitol in the world. You have to be a tough dude or dudette to make a living in a place where losing a glove means losing a finger. Tough as they are, these particular Mongolians had less-than-zero tolerance for temperature change, outside of 70, 71 and 72 degrees meant drastic measures to cool down or warm-up.

When the decision was made to cancel practice I was wearing sandals, a t-shirt and cargo shorts and would testify in court to having broken a sweat. My new friends had busted out their full length, heavy jackets, called dels. The camp ground to a frigid halt.

That "cold snap" preceded by an ear-ringing thunderstorm that had me legitimately frightened and clutching my iPod. Our ger, the traditional home for nomadic Mongolians, pulsed from the pressure changes and before we closed the overhead flap (an "orkh") it had already started to drizzle. Later it rained. And finally after several hours of meteor logical foreplay, it began to pour.

Wrestlers playing chess

The rain lasted another two days, and through it was frustrating to have wrestling cancelled it was obvious from the faces of the nomadic herders nearby that the rain was welcome, it meant fatter sheep for the brutal winter. By Wednesday morning the camp was all but out-of-commission with some guys left playing chess and others packing their bags to make it back in town for this weekend's Trials. I got the first ride out on Wednesday morning with Usukhbayar, who was actually wearing a Michael Jordan t-shirt.

I'm back at the training camp early next week with Turtogtokh where I expect to wrestle twice-a-day and perfect my double leg (read: double-back handspring). I've purchased the entire traditional outfit including some handmade boots specific to Mongolian Bokh and hat worn into and out-of the wrestling area.

I've also followed the lead of my new Mongolian friends and decided to buy a del to protect me from the cold and rain -- I also bought banana hammocks in case I overheat. If it doesn't get cold enough to wear the del now, I'll certainly find use for it at home in the Windy City, however the underwear is strictly a Mongolia-only purchase.

T.R. Foley's all-or-nothing Kickstarter deadline is fast approaching. Be sure to support his project if you can and read his blog at http://www.wrestlingroots.org and on Facebook at http://facebook.com/wrestlingroots.

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