Brought to you by Time to Change
Dylan Evans has seen more of the shadows than most
“Some people are faced with adversity and that’s it, they stop appreciating the good things,” Dylan Evans says. “I could easily have done that.”
An understatement of the highest order. Evans knows personal horror, but he’s still moving. The 23-year-old amateur MMA fighter (2-4) left a full-time job to try and make it under cage fighting’s bright lights. Then, in January, he was diagnosed with Hodgkin lymphoma, a type of blood cancer.
In spite of that he’s flourishing, nine months later, by virtue of positivity and a steady hope that things will improve.
Flushing Dylan’s body with chemicals, rigorous chemotherapy burned the cancer off but also destroyed his immune system. Every fortnight he visited Lister Macmillan Centre for another dose. It’s a routine that cripples most people, rendering them bed-bound.
Somehow Dylan didn’t just survive. Exposure to bacteria permitting, the martial artist still got into the gym to hit pads and participate in strength and conditioning sessions. His description of that time is deceptive: “I spent eight months in a very dark place, I was in the shadows. But it’s move or die, it doesn’t matter how slow you’re moving, keep going.” As if his disease didn’t kill 304 people in the UK in 2016.
“Move or die” is Dylan’s mantra. It represents a total refusal to accept circumstance, even if it’s a death sentence. Not that Dylan’s diagnosis was ever terminal, but the conviction in his annunciation makes you believe he could survive a trip to the electric chair.
Enough grit to keep the M6 open in the depths of winter, then. But even the most robust of engines can be frozen to a halt.
Two days after his final session of chemotherapy the world was bright and Dylan saw a clear road back to the cage. Then he heard his best friend Conor had been killed in a fistfight in Ibiza.
“Plenty of bad shit happened to me before cancer,” he says. “After cancer, my best friend was killed. It’s an extremely detrimental thing to happen to anybody. It’s heartbreaking, it’s really affected me. It has damaged my life forever. But I’ll be damned if I’m going to be miserable about it.”
It’s one thing to say that and quite another to act it. In the weeks following Conor’s death Dylan withdrew into himself, training less and going out more. But he was open, talking about the emotions and mental struggle inevitable after loss.
On a visit to Liverpool he met with Vinny Shoreman, an accomplished mind coach who specialises in neuro-linguistic programming and hypnosis. During a session with Dylan, Vinny distilled a positive response to loss: “Would they want you to live like this? You honour it. My mum died, I don’t think she wanted to be here but she wanted me to live my life, so I honour that.”
It elicits a smiling response, like a little bit of Dylan’s grief just evaporated. “You’ve had dark days. Some people think they’ve had dark days when their car doesn’t start,” he adds.
Other sportsmen Vinny has mentored include eight-time world champion kickboxer Liam Harrison and former Cage Warriors champion Paddy Pimblett. A serious roster for a coach with an intimate understanding of combat sport, however, it doesn’t stop him quoting Doctor Who “It sounds sort of spiritual, but it’s very true, ‘great men are forged in fire.'”
He continues: “You’re using that horrific experience to inspire other people. The champion mindset is about giving people hope where others haven’t. There’s no luck involved in what you’ve done, it’s about mindset.
“You can have inspirational quotes or mantras but you need something tangible, you are that thing that people can hold in their hand.”
It’s a really important point. Dylan has been through an ordeal, but not everyone needs to experience a similarly traumatic event to feel the same way. Walking his path sets an example of how to deal with any mental difficulty, regardless of its severity or circumstance. Though that’s not to say it’s the only method for dealing with problems.
After this conversation between the pair on the mats of Four Corners gym, they go to a side. Vinny puts Dylan in a trance. In a low murmur and with the occasional tap to the top of the skull, the hypnotist talks to Dylan about his confidence and inner light, two themes he identified as recurrently important in previous conversations.
When he’s brought to by a snap of Vinny’s fingers, Dylan is in a light sweat. Vinny uses the word “confidence” in a sentence and Dylan’s breathing becomes visibly deeper by the compression and expression of his chest.
Not everybody experiencing mental health problems will have a mind coach to guide them, of course, but we can all play similarly important roles in the lives of our friends, family and others. Sometimes, all it takes is for us to ask that person how they are if we are feeling worried about them.
The session between Vinny and Dylan is one of many more to come. One more day for Dylan to contemplate grief and mourning. Vinny finishes: “I can’t guarantee you’ll win every time, I can guarantee I’ll give you the mindset for a fighting chance.”
