I don't need fighting. It's the cherry on top to this beautiful life I've been given.
Once I dedicated my time to mixed martial arts, I became careful about what I let into my mind. I made a goal of being the best on Earth in mixed martial arts and fighting. I wanted to build my mind into something good, not just of the world. I wanted to be different.
Regardless of how tough you think you are, regardless of how good you think your chin is, we're all only one connected punch away from being hurt, and you've just got to hope your chin holds up and your body holds up.
I'm not always 'Dominick Cruz, Tough Guy.' Depression runs in my bloodline.
At a certain point, when I let go and was done - when I stopped and could say I was blessed and thankful to be a champion, when I finally enjoyed life from this different perspective - that's when I healed. Letting go healed me.
The whole point of this game is that everything flows together in one simple movement... it should just flow and be fluid. And that's what I want to bring to the table every single time I fight. And I enjoy making it look, you know, like an art.
I didn't grow up with a lot of money, so my mom didn't have random money to buy me a car, and I didn't have money to have a car unless I worked, so I didn't get a car until I got my first job at 18.
When I'm done fighting, I want to look to get some sort of driving career somewhere. My goal is to eventually get into the Mint 400 and do the trophy truck stuff.
What good is power if there's no connection point? My entire style's built around that actual basis.
I feel that I fell somewhat under that category where I was using fighting to kind of run from my own self to an extent, to kind of numb the things that I thought about myself. When I had fighting taken away, I was forced to look at myself in the mirror and say, 'What are you without fighting?'
Preparation is a mentality... With wrestling being my background, I've always learned to overwork, overwork. Work, work, work, work. It's not always the talented that wins, but it's the one who puts in the most preparation and thought into things.
I didn't deserve to get my title stripped after three ACL reconstructions. I didn't deserve to be out for four years. But it happened to me, and so I definitely learned over the years that you don't deserve anything. Nothing you have is yours. Everything is up for grabs in this world.
For a long time, I felt like my identity was to fight. My identity was to be a world champion. That almost defined me.
If you want to be that world champion, you have to be willing to beat anybody on this planet - no strings attached.
