Articles

Wresting with a fighter's life


By: Janet Podolak
jpodolak@news-herald.com

October 1, 2006

Lana Stefanac's mother wept when she discovered that her daughter really loved fighting.

She had figured her academically talented daughter would become a doctor after completing her studies at the University of Wisconsin.

But three years ago, Kirtland native Lana Stefanac, 30, quit body building and took up Brazilian jujitsu. In April, she became the 2006 Pan American Games champ, winning a gold medal in the martial art. She's been undefeated ever since.

She's now "Lethal Lana" and a professional fighter.

In June, Stefanac broke new ground when she and another woman fought in the first sanctioned mixed martial arts "Bay Area Brawl," a cage fighting event in Oakland, Calif.

Despite early misgivings, her mother, Jane, and brother Mark were there with other family members to cheer her on.

"I'm just glad Mark's wife won't let him go into the cage," their mother says.

In that fight, Lana defeated three-time World Heavyweight Boxing Champion Martha Salazar in less than three minutes, confirming her "Lethal" nickname.

"She's a prodigy," said co-manager Bob Donaghy of Mentor. "She's won every bout she's ever fought in."

He's co-manager of Stefanac with Phyllis Lee of Toledo and predicts great things for her.

"I still don't like it, but I'm behind her," Lana's mother said.

Stefanac, who's 5-foot-9 and usually weighs around 200 pounds, worked hard to gain weight before that cage fight.

"Martha is much bigger and weighs about 250 pounds," she said. "I ate steak and rice every day and got up to 237 in a month," she said. She's since reduced her weight to 190 — all muscle.

In this country, mixed martial arts almost always gets the generic name "cage fighting," a no-holds-barred brawl between two fighters locked in a 6-foot steel cage.

It includes elements of kick boxing, boxing, wrestling and martial arts such as muay Thai, which teaches the fighter to use the entire body as a weapon.

"But you really aren't hurting your opponent," Stefanac says. "You're making him cry uncle."

In boxing, when a fighter hits the ground and stays there to the count of 10, the round is over, she explains. "But in MMA, the fight doesn't stop when you hit the ground," she says.

Crying uncle, in this case, is done by "tapping out," or slapping the mat with the hand.

"They had to devise something universal, since cage fighting typically involves many people who don't speak the same language," Donaghy explained, noting that the sport began in Japan when people wondered who would win if Hulk Hogan fought Bill Goldberg.

Wrestling is, of course, scripted as entertainment, but its stars have real skills. "The marketing guys were maximizing the opportunities," Donaghy said.

Stefanac says the referee in the cage with the fighters is not just looking for someone to pass out or break a bone. "If someone is getting beat too bad, they'll stop the fight."

Although she's broken a finger in practice and occasionally bloodied her nose, she's never been hurt in a fight.

"The funny thing is, I detest violence," she said. "As an athlete, I know it's not about violence but about skill and technique."

She believes, however, that America loves violence, and the sport is promoted in such a way as to capitalize on that.

"It's like a football game," she says. "Players act like they really want to hurt each other. It's a great show, but we're all really friends."

People have different reasons for getting into fighting, she said. "Some of them are jerks, and others are athletes. People who are there because of anger and aggression need therapy. I won't be with those who aren't fighting with good intentions."

She encourages other women to train in self-defense sports. "It gives a sense of security so they don't need to be afraid."

She believes her early body-building training in the gym has helped her build stamina — something that permits her to train for hours while barely breaking a sweat.

"It's the physical challenge I like," she says. "I have good endurance, and I am a natural when it comes to knowing how to use gravity and body weight. I've beaten men twice my size in training."

During the month she will spend visiting family in Kirtland, Lana plans to revive the roofing business she established here before she moved last year to Oakland, Calif.

Because cage-fighting matches typically take place in cool-weather months, she's able to earn her livelihood in the summer. "In California, I signed on as a subcontractor with different crews over the summer," she said. "It worked well because I like to train every day."

While she's in Northeast Ohio, she's training at GriffonRawl Ohio, a gym on Pinecone Drive in Mentor that specializes in muay Thai and mixed martial arts training.

In watching Lana train, the sport appears dance-like — graceful and controlled. Her nearly waist-length hair is bound out of harm's way into a tight bun.

"She likes to keep it long," Jane Stefanac says. "Her brother tapes it down when she's in a match.

The siblings were born on the same day two years apart and are very close, their mother said.

"Mark is my corner man," Lana says. "He got me started with kick boxing. We train together, and he's always there for me."

Mark is the Brazilian jujitsu instructor at Griffon-Rawl.

The family has long been active in the local Croatian community, and Lana carries the Croatian words "Heroj zizi zauvjek" on the back of her sleeveless T-shirt.

Translated as "Hero lives forever," the words are a tribute to her friend Jerko "Jerry" Zovko of Euclid, who was killed in March 2004 in Iraq.

"I believe things in one's path come together to form a person's life," she said. "I was so sad and so sorry to see him die, and in my first tournament, I was determined to win for him."

And win she did — and she has ever since.

When Tapout magazine writer Daynin Dashefsky asked Lana about the stereotypes men have about women in fighting, she didn't duck.

The writer explained that women are commonly viewed by men as either in the sport to check out the guys, or if they're good, they're not feminine and look like men.

Lana explained that for a woman to take the sport as seriously as a man does, she must train as hard as a man. And like a man, her body will change with extensive training and diet.

She told Dashefsky that being the best requires sacrifice, and if she's sacrificed some of her physical femininity to be the best, it doesn't change who she is inside. She said that's good enough for her and for the people who care about her.

The rest don't matter.