Water break – Is only drinking when told so really good for training?

In most clubs where I have trained, there were strict rules regarding drinking during class. We were offered a short water break, and if anyone missed it, they weren’t allowed to drink. Sometimes this break was topped up with a series of “life lessons” on how we build character and toughness by withstanding thirst, or even how privileged we are, as the coach was not permitted to drink throughout the entire class in his time, which supposedly made them who they were.

At one point I had to double check what I was taught elsewhere about the importance of hydration, because the pattern just kept repeating itself in many martial art clubs I’ve visited regardless of the artform itself. So I double checked and here it is:

‘… Maintaining hydration status during exercise and competition is one of the most important nutritional strategies for any performance athlete. […] In addition, many athletes do not fully comprehend the far-reaching adverse effects of dehydration including exacerbated strain on our cardiovascular system, decreased blood flow to the brain, elevated core temperature, increased skeletal muscle glycogen use, increased fatigue and decreased mood and brain function’ (Sawka, Cheuvront, and Kenefick 2015) – source: humankinetics.me

This has been the mainstream scholarly view for decades on the importance of drinking water during training, which highlights the physiological damage caused when we push our body while denying the necessary amount of water it needs to operate properly. I was curious about why clubs promote the idea that abusing our bodies makes us stronger. It has no scientific base, it’s against professional training recommendations and yet it is widespread which suggests it has a social function. The number of similar urban legends relating to toughness is probably countless and I could only guess why they are so popular. There is no manual to life, or an exact self-help book on how to be stronger, or what strength is in the first place.

But it’s hard to see the benefits of training for dehydration, especially in competitions where grappling matches last just 10 minutes. Even that time without water feels pretty brief. In MMA or striking, there’s a chance to hydrate every 3-5 minutes. So, what’s the real benefit? What are we actually preparing for? It seems like it’s not what it was intended to be. Even though the goal is to teach self-control, this rule ends up just promoting obedience. It encourages following outside commands rather than tuning into our own body’s signals. This blocks learning how to recognize the signs when water is needed, as we aren’t trained to notice the signs of slowing down, feeling disoriented, or getting weaker from thirst.

Choosing not to drink just because someone else told you to doesn’t really develop your character. I get that the topic of how much authority we should give to a coach can open up a lot of debate. In martial arts communities, there is a practice where blind trust and obedience are often expected from trainees. This kind of submissive relationship might be fine for beginners, but anyone who has seen this power misused for self-gain, or has been injured due to a coach’s negligence would definitely reconsider.

Another issue with this approach is that the body doesn’t always react to challenges the way we think it will. It’s common knowledge that adaptation is just one type of response, while becoming oversensitized is another. Denying water to your body doesn’t automatically make it stronger. Often, dehydration just makes the body more sensitive, which can lead to panic reactions and a collapse of metabolism.

In the context of fight sports, the meaning of control is closer to maintaining boundaries and self-regulatory ability, as opposed to waiting for external orders. That includes learning your physical limits so you don’t injure yourself by overtraining or pass out from overheating. To reach this goal, a competent club would let you drink when you want and encourage you to recognize when your capabilities are dropping and act on it, so you’re able to keep your game up. Learning how much liquid you can drink without risking throwing up in competition is also an essential skill that requires practice.

The actual “toughness” that needs to be developed here is nothing else than self-management skills, for which the fighter would need to be granted full responsibility over their own condition, ideally with guidance provided by the coaches. When clubs order their trainees to ignore their bodily needs, because of their own view of character development, the trainee misses the opportunity to learn how to develop self-reliance.