What coaches and trainers really think about cannabis in combat sports is more complicated than a simple thumbs-up or thumbs-down. Their views are being reshaped by changing science, shifting anti-doping rules, and the lived experience of fighters who use cannabis for pain, recovery, or anxiety.
First, many old-school coaches still see cannabis through a performance-impairment lens. A 2020 systematic review on cannabis and sport concluded that available evidence suggests little performance benefit and possible negative effects on coordination, reaction time, and cardiovascular output. For striking coaches and conditioning experts whose job is to protect athletes from avoidable risk, that’s a red flag. They worry about slower reactions, dulled timing, and compromised lungs during high-intensity training or competition.
On the other hand, regulations have softened, and that’s changed the tone of the conversation inside gyms. The World Anti-Doping Agency (WADA) now bans THC only in competition and only above a relatively high urine threshold of 150 ng/mL, a limit raised specifically to avoid punishing casual or out-of-competition use. The UFC went further: working with USADA, it stopped sanctioning most positive marijuana tests in 2021 and has now fully removed cannabis from its prohibited list, framing it as a health and recovery issue rather than a classic “doping” drug.
These policy shifts matter because they give coaches more room to be honest. In private, many striking and grappling coaches acknowledge that some athletes use THC after fights or hard sparring for sleep, appetite, and “turning the volume down” on pain. They’re often more comfortable with CBD, which is non-intoxicating and widely marketed for inflammation, joint soreness, and recovery. Surveys in broader athletic populations show that more liberal attitudes toward cannabis are strongly linked to greater knowledge about the plant and its potential benefits, suggesting that education is gradually pushing views away from pure stigma.
Still, most high-level trainers draw a hard line around timing and intent. They may be open to controlled use on off-days or during camps for sleep and stress, but they warn fiercely against showing up to practice or competition high. Beyond safety and performance, they know that athletic commissions and promotions can still punish athletes if they appear intoxicated or violate local rules—even if league anti-doping codes have relaxed.
College and amateur coaches face a different set of pressures. The NCAA’s decision in 2024 to remove cannabis from its banned list and lean toward harm reduction and education reflects the same cultural shift seen in pro sports. But many school trainers remain cautious; they’re responsible not only for performance but also for student welfare, liability, and university image. For them, cannabis is often grouped with alcohol and other substances that require education, clear boundaries, and support when use becomes problematic.
Behind closed doors, there’s also a generational divide. Younger coaches who grew up in states with legal medical or adult-use markets are more likely to see cannabis as a tool—one that might help a nervous fighter sleep the night before weigh-ins or take the edge off chronic aches between camps. Older coaches, especially those who came up when even a trace of THC could end a career, may still default to a “zero tolerance” mindset.
In the end, what coaches and trainers really think about cannabis in combat sports isn’t simple approval or rejection. Most are moving toward a pragmatic middle: skeptical of any claim that cannabis is a performance booster, wary of intoxication around hard training or fights, but increasingly open to carefully managed use for recovery, pain, and mental health—so long as it fits within modern rules and keeps fighters safe.