More than a week before Rick “the Pit Bull” Borowski’s fifth amateur cage fight, anxiety had set in.

A self-admitted “very nervous person,” the 29-year-old says he sometimes gets so worked up before a match he vomits.

The pre-fight fear that will “turn the toughest guy into a sissy” continues to escalate even after the cage door slams and the lights go on.

“You have no energy. Your legs feel like they don’t feel under you,” he said. “It’s exciting, exhilarating and it’s terrifying all at the same time.”

How did the Pit Bull overcome his fears to prevail in two of his five fights?

“Once you get punched in the face, that all goes out the door,” he said.

A two-year ethnographic study of mixed-martial-arts fighters by a sociologist at Indiana University of Pennsylvania attempted to shed light on the complex male psyche to understand how men manage their fears.

The study, led by assistant visiting professor Christian Vaccaro, suggests most fighters never fully overcome their fear of losing or getting injured.

But they do learn to manage it enough to enter the cage through a number of mental strategies to exude dominance and maintain their masculine identity, according to Vaccaro.

Some attempted to intimidate opponents, and others blindly convinced themselves they were more intelligent or more prepared because of their training or game plan. To overcome what they often referred to as “nerves” or “jitters,” they looked at the match as just another day in the gym or a learning opportunity, win or lose.

And when they did lose, they convinced themselves it wasn’t because the other man was a better fighter and they were unfit to enter the ring or even compete in the sport.

“While losing matches could make fighters fear that they were no longer cut out for the cage, framing their losses as valuable learning experiences often eased their fears and gave them enough confidence to continue,” Vaccaro explains in the study.

The men also went back to the same strategies they used to garner the courage to fight. They blamed a loss on the fact that they didn’t stick to the game plan or “nerves” and “pre-fight jitters” got the best of them, according to Vaccaro.

As Jeremy Bennett, 35, a former professional mixed-martial-arts fighter from Pittsburgh, explains, “The butterflies always set in and you have to learn that it’s energy; you have to realize that and turn it into aggression.”

Bennett, who has nine wins and seven losses in his career, said success or failure often hinged on his ability to manage the ever-present fear of losing and letting his family down.

“The fear is like your worst nightmare,” he said. “Especially later on in my career when my family would come watch me, I think I let it get the best of me, I let the pressure get to me.”

The realization of fear after a loss or the emotions, particularly shame, a fighter feels in the wake of a losing match is one aspect of the study that R. Tyson Smith, a sociologist fellow at Brown University, thinks is missing.

“That was one of the primary limitations of the study,” said Smith. “You have this high-stakes context and then the article revolves around managing and controlling emotions of fear in particular, yet we really don’t know what happens in the face of a loss.”

When Borowski was knocked out by what he describes as an “underdog” opponent in a fight in Ohio, he was disappointed in himself and felt like he failed his friends and family who drove hours to watch him.

“You question whether you ever want to do it again,” he said.

His feelings bring up an important question: Why do these men routinely elect to participate in cage fights when they fear it?

“These are not 12-year-old kids in the roughest section of Chicago who more or less have their back against the wall and must participate,” Smith said.

When Borowski pumps himself up by thinking he’s a better fighter who trained harder than his competitor, he knows his competitor thinks the same thing.