Traveling across North America and living out of a gym bag for roughly the past two years has taught me many things.

At one point or another I have crashed with friends and family in Belleville, Kingston, Ottawa and Toronto Ontario. I have slept on gym floors and lived off of couches and futons in Salt Lake City and Las Vegas Nevada.

About ten months ago I decided that it was time to settle down and find myself a 'base camp' and a place to stay while I was in the country. I found a comfortable corner in the living room of my older brothers apartment ("gimps motel") and a number of great gyms to train at in the surrounding area.

Although I have become somewhat accustomed to and thoroughly enjoy my role as the 'motel manager' at 82, the time has come for me to act more as a contributing tenant than just an observing occupant here.

Having spent so much time carving out an existence in communal areas, I have gained a greater understanding and appreciation for the power ones living situation has over them. 82 Beverley has been a great teacher.

So... without further adieu, 82 in review.

Als birth leg met its ultimate demise...

only to be replaced by superior android technology.

Cinco De Mayo found its Canadian home.

The motel was shut down due to noise complaints, etc.

82 Doubled as the Toxic Scorpion (tm) Clubhouse.

Our landlord replaced our balcony door with a window, which is held in place with grade A craftsmanship.

and most recently, Brittany and I moved into our room.

So... a big thank you goes out to Al, Brad, Evan, and anyone else who let me crash at their place along the way.

To my main CLARKEY, enjoy Africa! I'll keep an eye on things while you are gone.

Gimp out. 

In a couple of months I will officially be a quarter of a century years old.

Although I have only been on this earth for a relatively short period of time, I have experienced more than a lifetime of love, sorrow, triumph, heartache, success, failure, and sense of purpose.

and what an adventure it has been....

If for one reason or another this path were to end tomorrow, and with my dying breathe I was granted the opportunity to go back and do it all over again, I would not change a thing.

Whether or not my life is deemed to be a success or failure in the eyes of others does not concern me. I am not the shirt on my back or the numbers in my bank account.

and I never will be....

I have looked into the eyes of others and felt the warmth of their souls. I have tasted the lips of love and heard words of sincerity and genuine understanding.

I have lived.

I still have a few autographed pictures left if there are any of you out there who may want one. 

I have been staring at the blank notepad on my desktop for the past hour and a half, aimlessly trying to satisfy its hunger with words of significance and meaning.

As I gaze into the pale and barren landscape before me, one thing has become perfectly clear.... I've got nothing.

Sometimes I feel as though the cursor is taunting me as it flickers in front of and crashes through the words I have written and erased a hundred times.

There just isn't anything to write about.

In two weeks I will be leaving the futon that I have been living off of for roughly the past year and moving into the room next door. As exited as I am to have my own bedroom and personal space, a part of me feels as though I will be living on the other side of the wall from my real life..... from the only life I have known here.

82.

My sponsors from day 1 PITCHFORK HARDWEAR sent me a package last week full of great gear and stickers. If you like quality clothing with an edge check them out. They are more than just a clothing company.  

With each passing landmark it has become increasingly difficult for me to keep my mind from drifting beyond the confines of this over-crowded bus as it treks along the strip of the 401 that I have become so familiar with.

Amongst the slew of straight faced and semi-conscious passengers there are a few individuals who have managed to make their presence unavoidable.

There is the chatty child who appears to be much too young to own a cell phone conversing with a friend about the week he is going to spend with his aunt and uncle in the city, the recently laid-off iron worker hoping to find work in Hamilton Ontario, and the mother pleading for two kind souls to give up their seats so that she can sit beside her child... as interesting as these individuals seem to be, the most noticeable figure at the moment is the heavy-set man with the whistling nose who is slowly but surely working his way further and further onto my seat.

As uncomfortable as this trip may be, I am happy I made the decision to travel this way.

Early last week I was notified that I would not be fighting for W-1 March 28th. For one reason or another, the city of Gatineau continues to be a double edged sword in my personal and professional life... we are currently pursuing potential options outside of the province.

Don't worry...I am still training. I refuse to let myself slip as I have in the past. This situation allows me to take the time needed to let a few nagging injuries heal, improve on my technique, and work on my strength and conditioning.

I have engaged in combat with opponents on short notice, I have fought outside of my natural weight class three times and I have fought injured. I am working on training harder and smarter as well as  making a conscious effort to not start 2009 like I did 2008.

Although I have not participated in a professional bout in some time, enduring the past few months has been a fight within itself. I have said on numerous occasions that this break has done nothing but allow me to grow as a person, and now it lends itself to my development as a professional athlete.

Fastened securely to my back is the weight of a man in his becoming. An anatomy chart littered with the remains of past lives that could not be reassembled. Deep in the heart in which they dwell all things are seasoned beyond my years and reek of mystery. 

However, one thing is for certain... when I set foot in the cage I will not be the person I was once was, and the debut of this new man and fighter will be sooner than you all may imagine.

My friend Ashlee Ludlow sewed these pictures of me. I am not sure what kind of technique this is, but... my attempt at capturing their beauty does not do them justice. Thanks again Alee. 

Stay tuned.