By Jake Durgin
“You’ve been…thunderstruck!” This is what he hears as he prepares for this big match. Just the second match of the day, Mount Vernon’s Kyle Durgin is going up against the fifth ranked wrestler at 113, Zeke Smith. As he jogs around the circle he feels good, he’s ready. He watches as the fans settle into their seats. Sweat drips from his face; it’s a miracle that his body can produce this substance on just eight ounces of water a day. Nevermind this, he’s focused on one thing, winning, and keeping his shot to make it to the state tournament alive. As he watches the 106 match before his, he thinks about what’s to come. He knows it’s going to be a tough match but he also knows he is ready; he’s put in too much hard work to have the road end here.
Imagine everyday waking up at 6 a.m., rolling out of bed, stomach growling, wanting so badly to go into to the kitchen to grab a glass, fill it up with water, and just drink it, but not being able to. Instead you suit up in multiple layers, long johns, sweatpants, under armor, a long-sleeve shirt, a sweatshirt, a hat and gloves. You grab your iPod and put in your headphones. You step out into the cool, brisk, winter air. It’s still dark, as you begin to run, you see few cars. You run for nearly 4 miles and return in time to shower and go to school.
This is the life of senior Kyle Durgin. During wrestling season he does just this. At school, it’s hard to focus. All he can think about is how much he weighs and what he can eat and drink. It’s endless. He fantasizes about drinking a pop, or having a KFC famous bowl. (Oh how good it would be!) But he knows he can’t. He must stay focused on the goal: state.
At lunch time as all the other students rush down to the cafeteria, he saunters down to the locker room to check his weight. Then, if the scale allows him to, he walks down to the cafeteria and grabs a small portion of food. He measures water into his orange camelback water bottle until it reads, “8 oz., This is nearly all the water he will have for the day. After a short indulgence of his favorite, peanut butter and honey sandwich, and a small amount of water, he angrily returns to class.
At practice, as other kids in their shorts and t-shirts drip sweat onto the mat, he suits up in sweatpants and multiple shirts, as if it wasn’t hot enough in the wrestling room already. He walks over to the thermostat and pushes the up arrow until it reads, “80”. With all the people in the room it feels more like 90. As other wrestlers slack off, he goes as hard as he possibly can. He has to. He works to lose every possible ounce he can to allow himself to eat that night. He watches as the wrestlers that aren’t cutting suck down water. As he waits in line at the drinking fountain this angers him, he can hardly drink any water and he has to watch as other kids carelessly drink as much as they want.
After practice he heads home to rest, but this is short-lived. After a while he suits up one last time, in his many layers of clothing and heads off to the local gym, Elliot’s. He works out feverishly for another hour, to hour and a half. Upon return to his home he goes to bed, only to wake up the next morning and repeat this whole process again the next day.
Many people may wonder why anyone would put themselves through this, which would be a fair question. Kyle said, “You’ll never feel better in your life than when you cut weight, you can see every muscle in your body. When you win, it makes it all worth it.” The motivation to put yourself through something like this comes from an unbelievable will to win. It’s something many people who don’t wrestle cannot understand.
Kyle’s dad, Cass Durgin can sympathize with Kyle because he cut weight in high school as well. “Everybody else did it so I had to, to be competitive,” said Cass. And it is competitiveness that drives wrestlers.
