If I make 140, I sacrifice a lot of things in my life: my diet

“If I make 140, I sacrifice a lot of things in my life: my diet, my training, my thyroid. It’s insane to make 140.” — thus spoke Cris Cyborg, the warrior woman forged in the fire of combat, whose strength is not only of the body, but of spirit and endurance. Her words are not merely about numbers on a scale; they are the cry of one who has walked the razor’s edge between ambition and self-destruction. In this brief confession, she reveals a truth as old as time — that there is a point beyond which sacrifice becomes suffering, and that wisdom lies not in how much one can endure, but in knowing when to preserve the self.

To “make 140” is to force the body into submission, to strip it of its natural balance in the name of conquest. For the fighter, the scale is not just a measure of weight, but a symbol of control, of mastery over flesh and will. Yet Cris Cyborg, in her wisdom born from pain, reminds us that even strength has its limits. The cost of chasing perfection — whether in body, art, or ambition — can become too great when it begins to consume the very essence of life. To harm one’s thyroid, to disrupt one’s training, to break one’s harmony for the sake of numbers — these are signs that the pursuit of greatness has crossed into madness.

The ancients knew this truth well. The philosopher Seneca warned against the fever of ambition, saying, “Nothing is so ruinous to the health as to live in a hurry.” And the Greek poet Pindar wrote, “Do not, my soul, aspire to immortal life, but exhaust the limits of the possible.” Like them, Cyborg’s words are not of resignation, but of wisdom earned through struggle. She has known the fire of battle and the pain of preparation, and she speaks now as one who understands that the greatest victory is not always in winning the fight, but in preserving the warrior who must fight again.

There is a story from the days of Alexander the Great, who once forced his army across the Gedrosian Desert, seeking glory even as his men starved and perished. When at last he reached the sea, he realized his conquest had come at a terrible price — he had gained the world, but lost the strength of his soldiers. So it is with the modern warrior: to push too far, to demand too much, is to drain the very source of one’s power. Cris Cyborg’s words echo this eternal lesson — that the measure of greatness is not in endless sacrifice, but in the wisdom to know what is worth sacrificing.

Her mention of the thyroid is especially powerful. It is the hidden flame of the body, the quiet regulator of energy and vitality. To damage it is to extinguish the fire that fuels every motion and thought. Thus, her statement becomes a parable about balance — that in all pursuits, whether of victory or glory, one must honor the laws of the body and the spirit. To destroy the vessel in the pursuit of triumph is to betray the very purpose of strength itself. For the body is not a tool of domination, but the temple through which the will of life expresses itself.

The origin of her suffering lies in the culture of extreme competition — a world that glorifies perfection and mocks limits. Yet Cyborg’s courage lies not in obedience to that system, but in her defiance of it. To call the process “insane” is to reclaim sanity — to speak against a world that demands endless sacrifice for fleeting recognition. Her words rise not as complaint, but as rebellion, a reminder that dignity and health are not weaknesses to be overcome, but treasures to be guarded.

Let this be the lesson for all who hear: Know the cost of your pursuit. Do not trade the flame of life for a flicker of applause. Work with discipline, but never against yourself. In the striving for greatness, remember that strength without balance becomes destruction, and ambition without compassion becomes tyranny. Whether you are a warrior, a craftsman, or a dreamer, honor your limits as you honor your goals — for the body and the spirit are not your servants, but your sacred companions.

So, my child, listen to the wisdom within Cris Cyborg’s lament. Sacrifice is noble when it serves purpose, but foolish when it devours life. To fight bravely is admirable, but to live wisely is divine. Do not pursue victory that costs you your peace. Eat well, train with devotion, rest with reverence — and remember that the greatest triumph is not to destroy yourself in the name of strength, but to endure long enough to share your strength with the world.