FIGHT/GRIND: A Day with Boxer Christobal Ortiz

“Ooh baby. We workin.” This is the soft-spoken battle cry of Christobal Ortiz. But don't let the sweet delivery fool you - Ortiz is a hungry man.

Hungry, not because he's a boxer in the final week of training camp. Hungry, not because this means he’s also in the last stages of a 17-pound weight cut.

But hungry because he’s a born fighter, an athlete willing to put his mind and body on the line in a way that cannot be aligned with traditional notions of appetite.

Eleven days before a scheduled boxing match in San Felipe, Mexico, Ortiz winds down his fight camp at TG Boxing Gym in South Central, Los Angeles.

Training under coach Omar Villanueva, Ortiz, wearing gray shorts over floral tights lined with skulls, pummels a heavy bag, causing the laces on one of his Everlast gloves to come undone. Topped with a T-shirt that reads “BUILT 2 LAST,” it’s clear Ortiz is dressed for work.

His occupation is fighter. But more importantly, his purpose is growth. Learning to hit the reset button is not new for the amateur boxer fighting out of Huntington Park, CA.

Once a second-degree karate brown belt, Ortiz determined at the age of 21 to begin anew in the world of combat sports. This time with the goal of exploring the blended fighting style called mixed martial arts, or MMA.

But this was nearly ten years ago, and in Ortiz's ecosystem, specifically the latino cities in-and-around his neighborhood, locating an MMA gym was near impossible. Traveling to the South Bay did provide options, but they were financially unfeasible.

Ortiz opted for “the poor man’s sport," and ventured into boxing full-bore. Almost a decade later and with a 3-0 record, Ortiz wears the weight of the unknown on his peaceful face.

For an athlete aspiring to become world champion, there must be little comfort in looking upon the grandeur of the grind that lies ahead. Uphill-battle is a keen understatement.

But in the face of this beautiful challenge, Ortiz does what is least expected - he allows defeat to join him in the journey.

Having lived a "very disciplined life," Ortiz recognizes the symbiosis of fighter and failure, especially when it comes to upgrading his armor for battle.

"It wasn't easy. I've had to fail, and fail a lot. I've had to experiment a lot." Ortiz wears this struggle nobly, further admitting that he's "willing to lose," and "willing to be wrong."

It's down in the roots that the soil nourishes the seed. Ortiz knows this well.

Making his living as a boxing coach and personal trainer out of the UFC gym in Torrance, CA, Ortiz aptly uses that high-profile backdrop to build up his social media presence, Instagram stories often feature Ortiz flexing in locker room selfies or motivating his many clients with chirps of "let's go, baby."

But how does coaching others contribute to Ortiz's larger goals? "I'm kind of lucky, 'cause I'm training what I do, all day, every day." Ortiz likens his job as a coach to visualization training for his professional goals. By teaching he is doing, and by doing he is growing.

When asked to identify the value of support systems, Ortiz rattles off the standard reply of friends, family, and coaches, careful not to dismiss their significance.

Ultimately though, he keys in on the only source of encouragement that truly makes the difference for an athlete on a great quest, one's self. Ortiz humbly identifies boxing as a "selfish sport."

"It comes to a point where you have to really make that decision, how bad do you want it. Because there's always gonna be times where you can't make everyone happy. But as long as you in your heart know that you're doing the right thing, I think at the end of the day, it pays off."

Despite maneuvering through a world where fists and mitts rule, there exists a calmness to Ortiz's demeanor. It's difficult to interpret at first. He doesn't necessarily transmit a fighter's energy, a least not how it's been depicted in movies and TV.

Ortiz is not overtly chomping at the bit to punch faces. Rather, there hovers over Ortiz something resembling loneliness.

Only by digging deeper does the sentiment clarify; it's actually the embrace of solitude that cloaks his spirit, draped over his shoulders like a sturdy poncho.

Ortiz isn't overwhelmed by this lonely friend, but rather, he has beckoned to it and laid out the welcome mat. Only a true martial artist can make allies with silence, and Ortiz is quietly holding court with himself while on a path to boxing greatness.