“Courage is Grace under Pressure” – Ernest Hemingway
This past Friday I was to have my second Muay Thai
match. I was looking forward to field
testing some theories and concepts and techniques that I cannot practice on my
training partners. I wanted to attempt some things on a body I did not have to be nice to; on a body I did not have to hold back on; on a body that did not have on a belly pad and focus mitts.
As the event was about to begin one of the athletic
commission officials informed me that my opponent would not be participating in
the evening’s planned activities. He
said she was having a panic attack of some sort and has chosen to pull out of
the fight.
Disappointment. I
try not to show it, to maintain composure.
There is a part of me that understands how this could happen and a part
of me that feels compassion for her.
Then there is the part of me that wishes she would find her breath and strength
and step into the ring with me. Of
course I am sure there is a part of her that wishes for the same thing.
Disappointment. Friends are at the venue and others on
their way to watch and support. The ones
that are here have paid and the promoter at the gym has chosen to have poor
relations with me rather than to refund their entrance fee. I will not be fighting at the Muay Thai Kick
Boxing Gym on Cabrito Road in Van Nuys, CA anymore.
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| photo by Jill Morley |
I would love to take credit for being so intimidating
that she became physically incapacitated but I doubt that was what occurred. Her battles with anxiety are her own. We are not all built to be fighters.
Fighting is a heightened experience for sure. Though you have your team and your corner
rooting for you with unconditional love it is still just you in the
spotlight. You and your opponent are the
focus of all eyes watching. There is no
one to pass the ball to, no one to hide behind, no injury to fake, no space to
get lost in, no bench to warm, no one to blame if things go wrong. The feeling of responsibility and the weight
that goes with it can be overwhelming.
Since the beginning of this fight life people have asked
me if I am afraid. Yes. Yes, I am afraid. But not of my opponent. She cannot do me more bodily harm than my
body can handle. She cannot break my
heart. She cannot take my will. Only I
can relinquish that. My fears are of
letting down my coaches and teammates; of poorly representing them and friends
and family. These anxieties are quieting
as experience is being gained, hollow whispers in a passing breeze.
No one is
leaving me. We are bound by what all
humans feel. We are bound by love and
time shared and a common goal, a common journey. As fighters, as teammates and training partners and
coaches and competitors we are bound by Blood, Sweat and Tears. We are bound by defeats and glories, trials and tribulations, passions and pains. For the Love of Fight, We are bound. Win, Lose or Draw, as long as we walk the same
path and continue to learn and grow with each other, we are bound.
For me I am grateful that always when the lights come up
all doubt disappears from me. I have
worked diligently and excelled in rehearsal and it is now showtime. The curtain
rises. All fears fade and I am confident I will proceed in the systematic
destruction of my adversary. I believe in the writing. I believe in the
director. I have studied my character and understand my role in this
production.
