If I could tell my younger self, in the coming years, you will compete in the second largest Jiu-jitsu tournament in the world against the number one ranked guy in your division and last the full five minutes. I am almost sure that he, being my younger self, would say, “What the hell are you talking about? No way." But it did happen, and that experience, that trip, will forever remain memorable.
When I first started spending time on the mats, vulnerability seemed at its highest peak for me because the safety net of four wheels was no longer there for me to rely on, just me, the people who would become teammates, and the mats that at the time felt like concrete but boy did all that change for the better. Wheeling in that arena, that vulnerability returned, this time with so many pairs of eyes on me. I was not too nervous until the moment came to gear up and do what I had trained for. There was no turning back, so I accepted everything: every feeling, every thought. I went out there and tried the best I could with the cards handed to me. Accepting who you are at that moment and your surroundings will lift a measurable amount of weight off your shoulders. Thus allowing one to focus on the task at hand.
Though victory was not in my favor, I still won. I won by having people who pushed me to my breaking point, and when I did not succeed, they met me with open arms to say, "Great job out there." Something people don’t hear enough of these days. I won by being there to support them in the thrill of their wins or the agony of their defeat. I won by having the fuel of people who underestimated me to keep my engine of determination running.
Being involved with any martial art is not about how many wins or losses you have; it’s about facing your opponent no matter the outcome, regardless of how you feel or what you think. Consistently learning from your losses instead of dwelling on them. A lesson that transcends life.
Beyond grateful for the team at Walters Jiu-Jitsu.
OSS.
Peyton.
