in the raw

When I started this blog I wasn't sure how real I was going to be about my journey to Beijing-I mean, some things should probably be kept to myself. I struggled with the audience and handed out the blog address to anyone and everyone, even people who would end up donating money to me. Somewhere along the line I felt that I had to keep some things to myself because I was afraid that donors would decide that I wasn't worth the investment and move on.

But I have decided that in order to align this blog with my personality and thoughts, this blog is and will continue to be "in the raw". I was built with emotions on my sleeve and with an honesty that often catches people off guard. That's me and that's this blog.

So who cares? Well on the one hand, I could tell you that I went to the first competition of the season and took sixth out of one hundred and three women. I could continue on with-I made some progress, I had a good time, and it was a good start to a long two year journey. Bullshit. Yeah, I said it, bullshit.

What I really feel is-if results are really proportional to the work that I put in then I should be winning. What I really feel is-why can't I just get past these walls? What I really feel is-I SHOULD be winning and not losing to people who's age is significantly less than the number of years I have been fencing. What I really feel is disappointment.

If you talk to my coach she will tell you that things weren't so bad and that I fenced really well all day long until my last bout. I made some big errors and the other girl won. So now we go back and diligently work on the technical and tactical things that were wrong.

You see, if I was someone else with a different past I would agree with her. But for some reason I can't and won't allow myself these mistakes. Shouldn't the girl that started her career with a win at a local high school at 10 years old, winning a world championship at age 14, shouldn't I be able to climb this mountain in one leap? It turns out that the past is a shadow that gets bigger and darker when it goes unchecked.

I woke up on Sunday morning and Monday morning with the same feeling in the pit of my stomach. A sinking feeling with a voice that said that I may never get to the top of that mountain. What if I have to confront the fact that I may not have what it takes? After all, these girls have been working while I took two years off to finish school. These thoughts get spiraling and getting louder and louder.

Here it is, the raw. This morning I felt tired. I'm not talking about physical or mental fatigue but a spiritual fatigue. A big part of me thought that this task was insurmountable. I wanted to give up.

Thankfully I have some tools. I went down the list-I called my sports psychologist, my coach, and then a really good friend of mine who also trained for the Olympics in 2004.

The sports psychologist told me to evaluate why I was doing this and come back to the process. Yeah sure I understand but I still didn't feel any better. My coach assured me that it wasn't that bad and that she would never walk away and would always support me. Sounded good but why didn't I feel any better?

Then I spoke to my friend. He said something very real that jolted me back into thinking with some perspective. I asked him the same questions my sports psychologist asked me earlier that day, "Why do you want to do this? Why would you put yourself through this process? Why would you want to break yourself down and put yourself back together again? What drives you? WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?" His answer was almost like a breath of fresh air, "There is no answer." Sometimes there is just why with no answer. You do this because you do it-you do this because you enjoy the sport. Maybe there is no grandiose point to the whole thing. The Olympics are a great thing but you fence because you want to.

What he said clicked my mind into gear with some thoughts with the same zen-like manner. There is no how and there is no why, sometimes there only is what there is. In reality, Ww are always on the edge of quitting. Stopping the machine before our workout is done, quitting the task that gets too hard, but you have to find the strength deep inside to continue to work through. Sometimes the reward is nothing but the process itself; it only is what it is.

I don't believe any of these mental walls I built and all these struggles will be resolved in a minute or with just one conversation, but it is definitely pushing me to become a stronger woman. If I walk away from this the same person then it would be a loss, but if I am able to gain strength of mind, body, and spirit, then maybe that could be my answer to why. I hope that one of these days my interior thoughts will match my exterior strength. Meanwhile, I am truly thankful to have friends who are strong for me when I am not strong enough.



"The first question which you will ask and which I must try to answer is this, "What is the use of climbing Mount Everest?" and my answer must at once be, "It is no use." There is not the slightest prospect of any gain whatsoever. Oh, we may learn a little about the behavior of the human body at high altitudes, and possibly medical men may turn our observation to some account for the purposes of aviation. But otherwise nothing will come of it. We shall not bring back a single bit of gold or silver, not a gem, nor any coal or iron. We shall not find a single foot of earth that can be planted with crops to raise food. It's no use. So, if you cannot understand that there is something in man which responds to the challenge of this mountain and goes out to meet it, that the struggle is the struggle of life itself upward and forever upward, then you won't see why we go. What we get from this adventure is just sheer joy. And joy is, after all, the end of life. We do not live to eat and make money. We eat and make money to be able to enjoy life. That is what life means and what life is for."

--George Leigh Mallory, 1922