It's Over.

In case you didn't already guess. Wrestling is over. It's been a long four years, and I'm glad that I'm finally done, but I can't help but be a little nostalgic. Because of wrestling, I've learned numerous life lessons, become a better person, become tougher physically and mentally, and gained some great friendships. One of my best friends, is actually a wrestler, and he was my wrestling partner. Without wrestling, we definitely would not have been as close. We've got some great memories from these past four years.

If there was some kind of happiness poll between the athletes of all the different sports, wrestlers would definitely rate the lowest. Wrestling sucks. It's the most physically and mentally draining thing I have ever done. You are constantly using every muscle in your body, but if you don't do it the right way, then you get yelled at. Cutting weight is horrible. You are constantly hungry, and sometimes you are even thirsty, without hope of being satiated or quenched. Hunger transforms from something purely physical to something mental as well, until the majority of your thoughts are laced with some form of food or nourishment.

It's miserable, but if I were asked if I would do it all over again, I would say hell yeah. So basically, if given another chance, would I take the red pill again? Yes. Like I said, it's miserable, but it's also so much more. In wrestling you learn how to break mental barriers that you never thought were possible to overcome. It's hard to explain, but straight-up wrestling is a messed up sport. Every wrestling match is like a fight. Each wrestler struggles for physical domination of the other. And in all honestly, once you get that feeling, when you are controlling the match, and you are dominating them, you feel really good, like a bad ass or something. I always thought of myself as a hunter and whoever I wrestled was my prey. But the other guy probably had some analogy he used to pump himself up. Who knows? Everyone did their own thing.

I did absolutely horrible in the CIF tournament. Throughout this year, I was known for having really good tournaments, wrestling really well, and wrestling fundamentally, but this tournament, the only one that counted for anything, was a different story. I wrestled really badly. I could have beaten both of the guys that I lost to. I just couldn't focus or concentrate. Couldn't pump myself up like I usually do. It's ironic. There were a few tournaments where I was the last guy on our team to be left in the tournament. I was the first one to be eliminated from this one.

O well. It's all over now. I achieved nothing spectacular in my career. My senior year record was pretty good, but no outstanding placings, no first place medals. I'll just slip through the cracks and join the ranks of all the other wrestlers who could not become legends. I did gain some personal insight though. I've gained a bit of confidence. I was good for a while, a force to be reckoned with. I got hooked on winning, and it felt good. And I've proven to myself that I could push myself and break barriers. So even if I didn't win league or place in CIF, I got something out of this season. I know that I got something out of my career.

I am officially done with my high-school athletic career. That chapter of my life is over. And a new one begins...

First Days of Freedom

On Monday, after school, I seshed, hung out with my friends, went to Fantastic Cafe, had a delicious breakfast burrito along with some chili fries, went to an ASB meeting, then came home and ate an entire box of tagalongs.

On Tuesday, I gave blood. I didn't really want to at first. I don't like needles. I wouldn't say that I'm scared of them. I'm not really scared of anything physical. I'm more scared of the unknown. I guess I could say that I am afraid of heights, but a more accurate statement would be that I am aware of heights. So like if I am really high up, I am aware that I am at that height, and to be careful, because honestly I am so clumsy that I will find the only crack in a 100-foot radius and trip on it.

But anyways, I digress. I don't like needles. They make me squeamish. I don't like the sensation or the sight of needles entering skin. But my girlfriend convinced me. She is the kind of person that just like jumps into things,especially challenges, which I admire in her. I like to accompany her on her adventures so I agreed to give blood. Also, I didn't want to seem like wimp.

So anyways, I am like super nervous when they were prepping me. Then like when the lady jabbed in the needle she missed the middle of my vein. So she called over someone else to help her and the guy was adjusting the needle the whole time and I was trying not to think about it but the sensation I was getting from the man moving the needle around was a little painful and more than a little uncomfortable. Sort of reminded me of the sensation of getting stitches removed, in a way. But anyways I was feeling pretty faint and they didn't even get a whole bag cause my blood ended up clotting. So major fail. But at least I tried. One bag saves three lives. Pretty sure I saved at least one. So that's legit.

After, I went with my girlfriend to get some free pancakes at IHOP, then we went to the library, I rented Alice In Wonderland and Through The Looking Glass to read before the movie comes out (I'm soo stoked to watch it). Then I went home and played some Legend of Zelda. Good day.

Today, I didn't really do anything after school. Cleaned my room.

CIF

I've thought of a couple of posts throughout the week, but I haven't been able to put them up yet. I've been both occupied and preoccupied, if you understand the distinction.

This weekend, tomorrow, is the final tournament of the wrestling season. CIF Division Finals. Last week were the CIF Duals, which is the team tournament. The tournament this weekend is individual.

All four years of my wrestling career has led me to this moment. Every practice, every tournament, everything, is based on getting to this tournament and placing in it. I've prepared and I've done all I can get to this point and to be ready for it. It's just really weird that it's finally here.

I'm expected to place in this tournament and win a CIF medal. And I want to, because winning a CIF medal will make everything worthwhile. And it would be an amazing capstone to my senior year. Whatever happens, happens, but I'm going there with a purpose.

Expectations

I know that I have been neglecting this blog. And for that I am sorry. I've just been really busy. Not just the amount and length of things I've been having to do, but the importance of them. Like my focus and attention has been very channeled as of late, causing anything outside of my tunnel-vision to be ignored. However, I plan to make amends starting with the blog.

In my last post, I talked about my bad day, and at the end I promised that in my next post I would discuss the bad night I had on that same day. However, I've realized that my night really wasn't bad at all. It was just my attitude. We tried to plan something and it didn't work out, but we ended up doing something else. I was still with my homies it just wasn't how I had pictured it - and just a little less than ideal. But I was basically just bitching.

Thinking, I traced my angst back to my father. He is a very structured man bent on always having a plan and always being organized. I've realized that being raised by him has limited my ability to be spontaneous. I would really like to be spontaneous, I enjoy it, especially because this lovely lady whom I adore is a big fan of spontaneity. I wish I could be more spontaneous, and I try; I'm getting better, it's just tough. I guess that I just have a problem when things don't goes as planned or my expectations aren't met. It's just the way I was raised. But I've come to realize that that is the way of life - expectations not being met or plans falling through. and trying to deal with the situation that follows. So I plan to be a little better about it.

Life is all about rolling with the punches. Bad things, or even just things different than were expected, are going to happen. The only way to deal with it is to keep moving putting one foot in front of the other and deal with it.



I mean look at this guy. I bet he never expected to be ripped in half by a giant stapler but he is still grinning. Perhaps at the irony or hilarity of the situation? That's the kind of man I plan to be one day. Minus the part about being in half.

I've realized that in life, people place insurmountable amounts of influence into you. Especially your parents, but also friends and acquaintances. And it is your job to sort through everything anyone has ever given you and chose the aspects that you chose to live with. For example, from my dad I get charisma, anal-ism, and skills in debating. I choose to keep the charisma and skills in debating and rid myself of the anal-ism. Does that make sense? Maybe not. But to me it does.

In other news, I found $80 will looking through letters that my ex-girlfriend gave to me. I must have hid it in the envelope and then put the envelope away without knowing. Hm. It was a nice surprise I guess. I was looking through the letters trying to determine if I should just throw them all away. Still trying to decide. More on that later. Along with Valentine's Day. Etc.