Vast As The Sky

    By the age of 17, I was starting to fall in love with sports as I was discovering my physical strength, which I had been largely unaware of so far. I wanted to take it to the next level by becoming a boxer.
The training was harsh, much harder than I was accustomed to or what I would have expected. A moment of inattention and my trainer would open a hail of hits directed to my face and chest. He left me feeling helpless, desperate, wondering how to react to his blows – after all he was my trainer. Could I dare to focus on hitting him back or should I improve my strategies of defense and better my positions? This insecurity made me hate the boxing lessons and the training and my only focus was when the session would finally end, because all I wanted was for it to be over. I hated losing classes in school and felt like a stranger going back and forth between the training and my class. But most of all, I hated myself for considering giving up and possibly ruining my reputation as an athlete.
Yes, I seriously started to consider withdrawing, but deeply disliked the idea of all these efforts being wasted and having to tell everyone, family, friends, classmates, and teachers about my decision. I felt especially ashamed towards my PE teacher who had enabled me to go that far. How would I be able to face them after such a decision?  Telling them, would cause disappointment wherever I go.
While feeling that I was missing out on life, I stayed undecided and kept going. I even fought myself somehow through the preliminaries without particular effort or enthusiasm. Until the day of the finals arrived.

    To this day, I remember the moment of shock overwhelming me, seeing the ring close up and gazing at a sea of faces. Their focus is me. Some wishing me bad luck and some are on my side. I avoid responding to those hoping for my loss, but instead keep a smile on my face for everyone to see. Giving a promising look to my coach is trying to ensure him that I absorbed and digested every single instruction and trick that he taught me. I know what is expected of me.
I am climbing inside the ring, facing someone I have never seen before. I hear the bell and see him jumping towards me while I decide immediately to employ one of my most protective techniques, following his every move. Keep moving, keep moving! Here, I see a chance to reach to his face and I place my first blow, repelling him to the back. I let my arms do their work. My fists move back and forth as if they knew how and where to hit my adversary. Our roles have changed, I am the attacker, and he is in defense.
I hear the audience raising their voices in encouragement and slogans. I hear my name. Word travels through distance and I slowly realize that I won the round. I had imagined this moment filled with excitement, even some relief, but it feels nothing like that. Instead there is heavy pressure: I need to continue to preserve my temporary position for the upcoming round!
A few seconds later, we are back in the ring, starting all over, but this time with fewer injuries. I am thinking of my competitor who also received as many blows as me. It still seems even.  One unexpected blow, one second of inattention could cause you a lot of damage and injury at this point. I start changing my strategy, as I was instructed. The goal: To achieve the least encounters with the adversary in the second round to preserve my position and energy. With this, I succeed to win the second and third round through points. For the first time, a feeling of relief sets in as my defeat becomes more unlikely and I start to think of a possible victory.
Entering the fourth round, exhaustion is taking its’ toll. Despite my growing feeling of confidence, the question of “how long it is going to last and how far am I able to go” is present every moment. It is tempting to collapse because of endless exhaustion, pain and continuing hits. But there is also this feeling of déjà vue: the experienced pains and blows of my training and the promise of rest when the suffering finally comes to an end.  And here it is accompanied by the prospect of a sweet victory that seems to heal up any pain and erase the memory of all hurt and hardship.
The dimensions of time seem to have changed: fraction of seconds feel like minutes. I don’t see anybody but my adversary, my sole focus. I hear but myself, breathing deeply and harshly. Everything else slowly blends out. Any thought, any feeling I might have is connected to this very moment. There are no predictions and no memories.  I receive an unexpected blow on my upper lip and as my arms move I realize that I am retaliating with several heavy punches. With a feeling of surprise, I see it happening: him stepping back, struggling to regain his position – he is off! OFF! My punches threw him off balance!
For the first time in my life, I am winning something truly valuable - I am second position at the end of the finals. Winning the silver for the first time in my life, seeing my picture in newspapers and on billboards in the school appears  unreal at first. Everybody suddenly seems to know me, even in the most unexpected places. I experience a feeling of responsibility rather than reward. Now, I am obliged to watch for my attitude, behavior, and relationships towards classmates and strangers. Now, they know me and I am not allowed to make mistakes – I am not allowing myself to make mistakes!  I want to hold on to this position in every aspect of my life. In the classroom, my perspective changes and I start to prepare for my class rather than waiting for the lessons in class to prepare me. I am not a teenager anymore; I have grown into a rather mature adult.
From now on, I continue to repeat in my mind every single second of the harsh training and the time in the ring.  These moments seem to be burned in my memory. They are the ones that made me raise my bar of expectations in life, and taught me how to succeed.  Instances that taught me to never withdraw from anything and to stay the course till the end. Reminders of the efforts it takes to get where I want as opposed to just surrendering to momentary feelings, emotions, thoughts, difficulties or obstacles. They become my constant reminder in times of hardship and difficulty.
I was fortunate enough to have this happening at the beginning of my life journey, at an age where all the possibilities still seemed vast as the sky for me. It has formed my life and my achievements ever since.