Over my time in boxing, I’ve had to cut weight eight times—some for carded fights, others for exhibitions. I’d group those cuts into four types: Long (>5 weeks), Medium (2–5 weeks), Short (<2 weeks), and Maintenance (2 weeks after another weigh-in).
The long cuts – my first time dropping down to 69kg and 67kg – were the most painful. I was inexperienced, made mistakes, built fragile plans that collapsed under pressure. Medium cuts were smoother but still rough, especially when I had to drop weight rapidly near the end. I noticed a predictable rhythm:
- Week 1 – this feels good
- Week 2 – this is a good idea
- Week 3 – this might not be a good idea
- Week 4 – I’m drained
- Week 5+ – get me out of this.
Short cuts came with short notice fights and went something like this:
“Diarmuid, there’s a fight on the following weekend, are you up for it?”
“Sounds good, is there a weigh-in?”
“There is.”
Maintenance cuts felt like limbo – staying down rather than getting down. If the previous cut went well, it was peaceful. If not, it just prolonged the suffering.
Across every type of cut, the core tactics were the same:
- Water loading which involved ramping up to 6–8 litres 7 days before weigh-in and tapering down to 0.5L the day before.
- Reducing carbs, fibre, and salt—3–4 days out to drop 1–2kg of water weight.
After attending a nutrition talk in January, I realised I’d been underfuelling my training. I used to rely on low-calorie, high-satiety foods like fruit, veg, and protein to keep hunger at bay while staying under my calorie target. But I wasn’t fuelling training properly using carbohydrates. What I learned was that by timing carbs before and after training, I could support performance and recovery without derailing my weight cut. That was the principle, anyway. At the time, I was still figuring out how to apply it.
Along with underfuelling came restrictive eating.
During my longer cuts, I thought the only way to stay within my calorie limit was to cut out foods I enjoyed, like chocolate, entirely. That mindset made the system fragile. I’d be underfuelled for training, tightly controlling everything I ate with any deviation feeling like failure.
My first time cutting, I had a terrible habit of scrolling through Instagram food accounts thinking it would help with cravings. It didn’t. If anything, it just stirred up temptation and frustration.
Inevitably, the pressure would build and the pendulum swung the other way.
A small treat would sometimes spiral, eating much more than planned, causing a spike in weight.
Over time, I’ve realised restriction can be more about your state of mind. It’s tied to how comfortable you are with including flexibility in a plan. Even a flexible plan can be sabotaged by a rigid mind.
Since then, I’ve created more balance, I still slip up like parties or weekends away, but the impact is smaller and the rebound is quicker. Practicing mindful eating has helped me enjoy the foods I like each day in moderation and to understand what type of food leads to satisfaction or spikes cravings.
Large sharing bars with chewy or crunchy bits tend to trigger a pursuit-driven loop where you’re always chasing the next bite. There are no natural stop points. Small milk chocolate bars, on the other hand, are individually wrapped and portioned – stop points are built in. Each piece can melt in the mouth which slow everything down and creating a feeling of satisfaction.
Across this training camp, I noticed a shift in my perspective, I fuelled each training session leading to a higher performance and while weight didn’t go to plan, it was a step in the right direction. It’s much easier to execute a strategy when you’re comfortable with a margin of error. So when I was 7 days out with 4kg to drop, I didn’t panic. It was unfortunate that I was in this situation but it wasn’t the end of the world. I had a plan and I knew I could follow through.
On Sunday 16th March, I increased my water intake up to 6 litres. Monday was Paddy’s day, so I did my own session. By Tuesday, the effects of the cut began setting in – impatience, self-consciousness, and sensitivity in conversation.
By Wednesday, I felt that familiar sensation: anxiety in the body. Shallow breath, tension, and that internal alarm bell saying something’s wrong. I felt a pressure to perform building. The previous week had been electric, and I expected myself to repeat it despite being in a cut.
Training started well. I was sharp in shadowboxing and school sparring. But in open sparring, we were asked to raise the intensity. My partner landed three clean backhands and my nose began bleeding uncontrollably. I stepped out to clean it up. But when I went back in, it started bleeding again. I had to stop the spar and I felt humiliated.
It brought back memories of one year earlier, my nose was busted in during an external spar the week before Porto. My nose reopened during the Porto fight, almost stopping the bout. Now it was happening again.
I needed space so I stepped into the next hall, and skipped and stretched in silence.
During the cool down, my mind spiralled with thoughts of anger, blame, and self-criticism. I felt I should have learned from last year. But beneath the anger was sadness and fear. I was upset it had happened and scared that it would derail next week.
When I got home, I accepted that it was my choice to spar and take the risk, blame wasn’t helping anyone. I also had put too much weight on the spar. It wasn’t ideal but it didn’t determine the outcome next week.
By Thursday, I was 3 days out. I dropped carbs, fibre, and salt, and began tapering water. That evening at training, I didn’t spar, the risk outweighed the benefit. On Friday, my energy lowered significantly. I fasted from Saturday midday and dropped water to 0.5 litres. Going to bed Saturday evening, I was 70kg.
Sunday morning, I woke up at 68.7kg with 1.7kg to lose. I prepared a long and controlled sweat session.
I did 6 rounds of 12 minutes each:
- 3 minutes skipping
- 3 minutes shadowboxing
- 3 minutes jogging in place with high knees
- 30 seconds squats
- 30 seconds pushups
- 1 minute jumping jacks
- 1 minute arm circles
I wore full sweat gear including a full body lycra base layer, heavy joggers, thermal socks, shoes, long sleeve gym top, half-zip, waterproof jacket with gloves, a scarf, and a hat
Between rounds, I took 3-minute breaks. Halfway, I took a 15-minute break lying on the bed in full sweat gear, wrapped in blankets and a towel. After the six rounds, I took a 30-minute break in the same setup. Each break allowed time for my body to sweat out excess water weight.
I was uncomfortable, but alert. Cutting this much water in a short time carries risk, so I watched for any dizziness or light-headedness. Luckily, I felt a clear focus the whole way through. I just had to stick to the plan. And I did.
I weighed in at 66.5kg meaning I had dropped 2.2kg during the sweat session. At the venue, I spotted a few familiar faces from external spars. But one guy caught my eye, a southpaw who I’d watched in the Intervarsity Finals at 67kg. I wondered if we’d meet each other.
After the weigh-in, I sipped Dioralyte and slowly ate a rice pudding to reintroduce food. Across the day, I had light, high-carb meals, for example, pasta with tomato sauce and chicken or toast with banana and honey.
By evening, I felt clear and calm. The hardest part was done. I’d made weight without panic. I had followed a plan and trusted the process. I didn’t feel wrecked. I felt ready.
Now, it was time to shift focus and prepare to step into the ring.
Next week, I take you through my final preparations for my quarter-final fight at the Dublin Novice Championships 2025.