I usually get anxious right before competitions.
But a week before?
I’ve spent the last year preparing for the Open. One whole year of my life.
I’m stronger. I’ve improved all my skills. I’ve added new ones.
But I don’t have all the skills. Nor all the strength.
And that worries me.
All it takes is one move to show up that
1) I either don’t have or
2) I suck at
And everything I’ve worked so hard for is thrown out the window.
My body has tweaks here and there. My right fingers are swollen. My right calf is tight. My massage guy is sick. My muscle activation lady is sick. I know my glutes are tight. I am bruised from Jason.
I remind myself that I choose this.
Because it gives me something to cling to when there’s nothing else in my world to cling to. It’s the constant and the rock in my life when all else is a storm. It’s something to strive for. To achieve. And to keep achieving.
It’s a passion. And passion is so rare in life that when you find it, you cling to it with everything you’ve got. You don’t give up. No matter the pain. The frustrations. The defeats. You keep going. One step at a time. With the belief great things will be achieved…