A typical meal would be a baked potato, two chicken breasts, and a fruit or vegetable. My goal is to eat 3 meals before I’m picked up for my fight. 

Often I spend hours (even up to 6 of them!) in the locker room, waiting. For my last fight against Travis Lutter, I ate 4 jars of baby food, sweet potatoes, and a can of salmon in the locker room. 

I keep a few protein bars with me for emergency. I always try to eat within 3 hours of my fight so my body is performing as it does on a daily basis. Every 3 hours, food.

I return to my hotel room to snack on trail mix and fruit. 

Dinner is pasta with chicken or steak.

My nutrition is clean 95% of the time. 

I eat fats high in omega-3 and omega-6 fatty acids - nothing processed, ever. 

This is my way of life - so cholesterol and saturated fats are not a concern. 

The force I’m talking about is that irresistible pull that keeps us gravity-bound to a place we no longer want to be. 

Which brings us to NASA. A rocket, fire-blasting off its pad at Cape Canaveral, burns 90% of its fuel at take off - in the first seconds. Once the rocket does break earth’s gravitational pull, however, it sails through space with comparative ease. 

So it is with us. Breaking away from our everyday world requires us to expend extraordinary energy - to achieve lift off and create a new trajectory. When accomplished, we are free. 

I know a few people who, through bad breaks or bad decisions, found themselves on a personal planet where they no longer wanted to be. But through the burning of their own rocket fuel - of determination, focus, work and discipline – launched themselves into new space. 

When training for a fight, I stay in a city far from Cincinnati, to break the gravitational pull of my home routine. This was especially critical in the weeks prior to the Travis Lutter fight in Montreal. Due to my father’s unexpected death, it took all my concentrated will to blast away from my overwhelming sadness and prepare in Seattle. 

For those determined to rise to another orbit - intent to someday look back to the place they left behind - what is needed is rocket fuel. It lies deep within our souls - you can summon it, you can ignite it. 

Eventually, you will soar. 

I experience both emotions simultaneously and in the extreme. It is a maddening struggle to keep my head together.

Isometric exercises definitely have their place, but should not be primary.

Again this truth has revealed itself to me: the gold standard for toughness is not to be found in the UFC. No, you’ll find it in the wards of our military hospitals - where shattered bodies are repaired. 

Immeasurable emotion overtakes you when you are face-to-face with the living results of a bomb blast. When you talk with a 21-year-old missing limbs, his body encased in bandages. Yet walking from room to room there is the same warmth, the same spirit, the same quiet toughness. 

This is why I wear my Support Our Troops t-shirt, even when striding to the octagon. These damaged warriors are role models we can all look to for always-needed inspiration. 

How could one ever give enough to those men and women who have risked and lost so much – so that we can live freely under our proudly-waving, brightly-colored flag? We Americans love red, white and blue. But there is another color we should never forget. It’s gold. 

I’m often asked about my Anderson Silva losses, how I was able to return to fighting with solid wins. The motivational thoughts I offer others come from my experiences seeing how wounded heroes fight back. They work so hard to relearn the basic tasks of daily living we take for granted. 

I met a young man who has endured 54 surgeries to one of his legs – blown apart by an IED. He couldn’t even begin physical therapy until after his 50th consecutive surgical procedure. He is now teaching himself to walk – for the fourth time. 

That’s courage. That’s toughness. That’s the gold standard.