So when I get a phone call from Ultimate Fighting Championship's public relations person, who tells me that my interview with Dana White has been moved to a different location and a different time, I'm not surprised. White, after all, is the president of UFC, a man in constant motion. I can only imagine that, right now, he's addressing myriad concerns: discussing commercials, signing off on production elements, handling fighters, running his staff ragged. This is what he does on a day-to-day basis. This is why he and UFC are so successful now, why the brand has a choke hold on the coveted 18-to-34 ­demographic. White is, if nothing else, an accomplished businessman who took UFC from nearly defunct - from nearly outlawed - to a sport that's all the rage.

When I first met White, about six months ago, he barely stopped to breathe. He was in meetings all day, and in between, he ran errands. I was totally convinced that he was undead, some sort of B-movie creature destined to roam the earth without need for sleep or food. Which is why it's so surprising that, when our rescheduled meeting happens, it's at a restaurant where, gasp, he actually stops to sit and, you know, eat. Physically, he looks the same - clean-shaven head and a stocky (solid, not fat) build that's hidden beneath a black polo, a long-sleeved white shirt, and faded jeans.

There's something different, though: He looks happy. Not that he didn't look happy before - the man presides over a multimillion-dollar corporation and takes home millions himself (I assume; the UFC is notoriously cryptic about its earnings, and so is White). What's not to be happy about? Except that the man deals with fighters, and he has a lot to oversee in terms of ­everyday operations, so the first time around, he seemed maybe not stressed but definitely preoccupied.