“The Championship match is about to begin!” “First competitor to 5 points wins!” “Judges ready?” “Yes Sir!” is shouted out in unison from opposite sides of the ring. “Fighters ready?” A loud intimidating yell bursts out from each of the competitors and fills the arena. “BEGIN!”
I’ve seen this guy before. He’s good. He’s real good. Undefeated. And tall. I hate tall competitors! But I think I can beat him.
The crowd, they’re cheering loudly. His crowd is cheering louder than mine. Do I have a crowd? Is anyone rooting for me?
My back is sore. So is my neck. Took a hard hit in my last match, a headache is settling in. My Hamstring is still sore and tight from being torn a few months back. I wish I was feeling better. Enough thinking, time to start moving.
We’re feeling each other out. Finding our distances. I’m going to take a chance. Incoming flury!
“BREAK!” “JUDGES CALL POINT!”
Well that was a mistake, 1-0 him. Mental notes taken.
Some feints are thrown to see how the other will react. I shoot in quickly as if to attack, and then shoot back out. He throws out a front leg kick to defend. I now know his natural reaction, next point will be mine!
I jump in once more knowing he will throw that same defensive kick in attempt to keep me away. I roll out and block the kick as I pivot on my front foot and spin 180 degrees to my back looking over my shoulder to find my opening. It may seem like a split second, but it’s all the time I need to find an opening and counter with a kick of my own! My heel drives deep into his abdomen. Is that his spine I felt through his stomach? He keels over at the loss of breath and pain. I hear a mix of groans from those in the crowd who feel his pain and cheers from those who were impressed with the counter.
“BREAK!” “JUDGES CALL POINT!”
I knew the next point was mine! 1-1 tie.
He’s got his breath back….and doesn’t look happy. He’s just switched to the next gear.
He bursts off the line from the start and explodes into a flurry. I don’t think he cares about a point here, he wants to prove something. A scuffle of hard hits are exchanged.
“BREAK!”
There were multiple points scored here, which way did the judges see it?
“JUDGES CALL POINT!”
Damn, they gave it to him. 2-1 him. I caught a hard strike to the nose in that scuffle. I think it’s bleeding. I don’t know for sure though as I refuse to address it. Can’t make it look like I was affected by it.
He sees me trying hard not to want to wipe my nose. He knows I was affected by it.
I can see his confidence rising. He’s going to try something big, I know it.
The next flurry ensues. An amazing display of technique is flowing back and forth. Lightning fast kicks stretching their limits, turns, jumps, blocks, counters, counters to counters. It’s all coming out. A break in the action to regroup before the next flurry as no points are called.
Did I just tear my other hamstring in that last flurry? Seriously? Ugh. Keep moving, don’t let it tighten up. The sweat is dripping profusely from my forehead, around my eyes, down my cheek, rolling down to the tip of my jaw before it pours to the ground. May need to get out my floaties to finish this match.
He suddenly slides in at a strange angle.
I don’t recognize this movement.
As I stand, staring in amazement of what I’m seeing, he flips onto his hands as if to do a cartwheel. A foot or two, possibly three, strike my head.
“BREAK!” “JUDGES CALL POINT!”
What the hell was that?! Did he just break-dance kick me and score a point?! Yet another mental note taken. He’s up 4-1. Head kicks are 2 points in this tournament…even when you’re standing on your hands.
He’s not the only one with tricks up his sleeve.
His hands are getting lower from too much confidence…or fatigued from standing on his hands. Get your cameras out, it’s my turn.
I subtly slide back before launching into the air towards him. While in the air I load up a massive kick.
Is he floating in air? Are there cables attached somewhere? He’s been up there forever!
I believe I’ve spotted someone in the crowd checking his watch and taking a sip of coffee while up here. I know I’ve been up here for too long. It’s too obvious of a kick. Everyone in the arena knows a kick is coming. My competitor being one of them. That’s why I suddenly pull the kick back and land a punch to the side of his head!
“BREAK!” “JUDGES CALL POINT!”
Fooled you! I’m starting to sneak back! He’s still up though 4-2.
I slide in with a deceptive hook kick. It shoots out behind him, hooks back in with a direct path to the back of his head. He’s too good to take that hit though…and I know it. He ducks under the kick as expected. The kick suddenly reverses direction while in air just as it passes his head and drives back in connecting with his forehead.
He wasn’t expecting that, he was off balance when he ducked. He is now unwillingly sitting on the ground with the assistance of my foot to his head.
I smile.
He smiles.
I help him up.
The crowd is cheering. They clearly no longer have a favorite. They just love the action.
“BREAK!” “JUDGES CALL POINT!”
I’m catching up, 2 points for the head kick. It’s all tied up 4-4. It’s sudden death. It doesn’t matter though, I’ve already won this. I see it in his eyes, he’s done all of his tricks and I’m still standing. I on the other hand, still have more surprises. I’m exhausted though; do I have enough in me? And then it hits me…
There it is. It’s what I’ve been waiting for. It’s where every athlete wants to be. I’m in “The Zone”. The place where points don’t matter. Where all movement is done with ease and without a thought. Where winning and losing is no longer a thought. The pain? What pain? I feel nothing. Only appreciation of every limb, every finger, every toe and they way they all move. I don’t believe I’m standing on the ground anymore. I’m just hovering, moving with ease. The crowd noise? What crowd noise? I hear nothing but what I need to hear. My breathing? I’m fairly certain I’ve stopped breathing through my nose and mouth and have evolved into just soaking the oxygen in through my skin. My competitor? What competitor? I have no competition. I can’t be defeated anymore. That would involve winning and losing, there is no such thing because there is no future. There is only now. There is no more “me” controlling my body. There is no more separation of body, mind and spirit. There is only I as a whole. The fifth point is only a number, no longer an attainment.
Why do we do what we do? Why does a football player sacrifice his body to play? Why does a skater attempt to ride that rail despite falling a hundred times? Why does one jump out of an airplane for seemingly no reason. Why does a gymnast or a cheerleader sacrifice life and limb to soar through the air? Why do we do this to ourselves?
It’s how we find our limits, just to learn we have no limits. It’s to find that moment when we seemingly leave our physical body and survive only as one being. No longer separated or at odds with ourselves. No more mind holding back the body. No more body deflating the spirit. No more Spirit limiting the mind. It’s how we go beyond surviving in this world and actually live and feel alive. This is why we do what we do.
Oh, and It’s also because we know that pain is temporary, glory lasts forever and chicks dig scars.
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