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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic
Just a short story about my fantasy of becoming a sumo wrestler.

Submitted: January 30, 2008

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Submitted: January 30, 2008



I wasn’t always the person I am today. I know it’s hard to imagine, but once upon a time I was just a kid with no experience and less body weight. I had always dreamed, like every other child growing up, of competing in the great sport of Sumo wrestling. I watched hours and hours of the masters competing in Japan, and I wanted nothing more than to be on that dohyo competing as well. Somewhere along the way, I lost that dream, and it took me years to capture it again.

High school was a rough time for me. Freshman year started the race to see who could gain the most weight, and it didn’t end until after we graduated. No matter where I looked, my friends (and everyone else for that matter) were eating foods with hundreds of calories, and then napping so their hard work wouldn’t go to waste. I watched my fellow classmates grow from a measly 120 or 130 pounds up to 200 pounds. Some of the lucky ones even got as high as 300. Sadly, no matter how much I ate or how little I exercised, I couldn’t seem to put on any weight whatsoever. My first year in high school was a disaster. My friends would compare notes on how much weight they gained that week, and at first I would make up numbers to try to keep up, but soon it was obvious that I was lying. I tried stuffing my clothes to make me appear bigger, or strapping pillows around my waist to add some much needed bulk, but that only ended in embarrassment when the stuffing fell out in the middle of class. My parents tried to encourage me, telling me that maybe I was just a late bloomer. I would start putting on weight soon. Next year, they’d say, you’ll be heavier then them all! When next year came, they would say you just need a little more time. Here…have some more dinner….would you like some pizza with that double cheeseburger? By my third year of high school, after gaining virtually no weight, I gave up on my dream of Sumo. It was obvious that others were more prepared and better fitted than I was. Once I figured that out, I just floated through high school. I graduated, leaving through the doors weighing the exact same amount as when I first entered.

Two years later, I was moving up in my career as a truck driver. I made good money and was able to travel wherever I wanted to go, but I still felt like I was lacking something. Then one night, at a truck stop where I made a pit stop for a little rest and a little Dr. Pepper, I happened to see a brief Sumo match on the public TV. Those few short moments of seeing the dohyo and the giants wresting inside it made my long lost dream come crashing back. I knew, at that exact moment, that I was going to wrestle there one day. I wasn’t delusional…I knew there were going to be obstacles. But I also knew that I could do it. It was what I was meant for.

I immediately started the old regimen I tried in high school. No breakfast, huge lunch, then a long nap. Repeat daily. It wasn’t long before I started noticing changes in my body. I dug the scale out of my closet, climbed on, and was surprised to see the numbers move up. But I knew that wasn’t good enough. If I was serious about this, then I needed to get into training. There was only one place in the world with tough enough trainers to whip me into shape: Japan. There were problems though. Mainly, I was a woman. Sure, I could always compete in amateur competitions, but there were no professional female Sumos. The Japanese Sumo Association strictly prohibited it. I had no idea how I was going to change their minds, but I knew that I couldn’t do it halfway across the world. So I bought a one way ticket to Japan to pursue my calling.

I went to various stables, talked to numerous trainers, but none of them would listen to me.  If I was going to convince them of my merit, I needed to take drastic measures. For the next year, I continued trying to put on as much weight as I could. I bought a St. Bernard, fattened him up, painted my own dohyo in the floor of the apartment, and practiced wresting against my dog. It wasn’t the best way to train, but I just needed to get good enough to beat the lowest level Sumos in one of the stables. After another few months of eating and practicing, I figured it was now or never. So one night, I snuck into the training stables closest to my apartment. I knew if I got caught before my plan was finished, I would probably die. Even if everything went according to plan, I still might die. Or go to prison. Or be crushed by massive body weight from 10 sumo wrestlers. None of those options seemed appealing, but it was the only shot I had to fulfill my dream. When I got to the stable, I met the two Sumos stationed at the entrance as guards. They detained me while they alerted their trainer. When the trainer arrived, he barely even looked at me, just motioned for the men to get rid of me. I managed to call out my offer to him before he walked away. If I could beat these two Sumos in a fair match, he would let me free, and agree to train me. All three men laughed at me, but the trainer jokingly agreed, knowing I would lose. The fight began, and less than 5 minutes later, I had beaten them both. The trainer dismissed both of the wrestlers, then regarded me for a long time. After a long stretch of silence, he agreed to train me. My dream was coming true.

So that’s the story of how I got my start in this business. You probably know the rest of the story. I went on to Sumo wrestle for 5 years, retiring unbeaten and with a perfect record. Of course, it helped that professionally, there were no other female Sumos besides me, and I wasn’t permitted to compete against the men, so I had no competition. But still. It’s quite an accomplishment….


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