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.

Bad Day.

Everyone has them. Mine started at 6:00 AM and ended at 12:00 AM. The reason that my day started so early is that I am a wrestler. I have been wrestling, along with playing football, for four years. Football season ended with my team having an 0-10 record. Wrestling is soon coming to an end and, like football, the team is having minimal success. In the past years, these teams have been good, but no longer. I am starting to wonder if I have some sort of reverse-Hand-of-Midas-effect. But even I don't think I can be that important.

Yesterday was the last wrestling tournament before League Finals, which is the first tournament in what is called the National Qualifying Series. If you get 1st or 2nd in League Finals, you go to CIF, if you place in CIF, you go to Masters, if you place in Masters, you go to the State Meet, then Nationals.Anyways, the tournament yesterday was small and inconsequential in the scope of things;however, I really wanted to do well. In the past season I have placed 7th at every individual tournament and the only tournament where I was going to place higher than 7th was ended early because it was poorly run.

So I had placing in mind. 1st through 3rd place. The beginning of the tournament went alright. I had a bye (that means you don't have a match but you move up in the bracket) then I won my first match, which landed me in the semi-finals. I lost my semi-finals match but I wasn't too upset because the guy was really good. I won my next match in the consolation bracket which got me into the match to wrestle for 3rd place.

Throughout the tournament, I had my eyes on a wrestler from La Sierra. He had been my only loss in the last tournament we had gone to, and it had been a really close match that I should have won, so I wanted my revenge. As fate would have it, I would be wrestling him for 3rd place. I was stoked because I really wanted to beat him and I knew that I could have. So when the time for the match came, I was pumped up.

We put up our singlets and put on our headgear and step into the circle. The ref tells us to shake hands, he blows the whistle, and the match starts. We circle for a bit, pushing it at points, testing the waters. Then we collide and fight for the tie. He puts his hand around my neck and I grab his wrist with one hand and his bicep with the other. I now have control of his arm. I turn him to the side. I'm confident now. I push his arm into him and go for his legs. I don't shoot in hard enough. He catches me in puts me in a headlock. My arm is stuck and is pushing against my neck. I should know how to fight it but I panic. I put my hands on the mat and tried to muscle out of it - big mistake. I then noticed that I was choking and loosing air. I was close to passing out, but I didn't actually think I would. I was fighting it, loosing awareness, then...

All of the sudden I came to. I jumped back up into my wrestling stance. Ready to run back to the center and continue wrestling. Then my coach yelled at me to sit down. I sat down and he came over and he asked, "Do you know where you are?" and I said, "Centenial." "Do you know what this match was for?" "3rd place". I realized that these were the questions that coaches ask when someone passes out. Then I realized that I must have passed out. I think I told my coach that I was okay, but maybe I was just thinking that. My coach helped me up and I went back to the center. The ref asked if I was okay and I said that I was. He then raised my opponents hand - he had won. I was shocked. I thought we were going to continue wrestling. But apparently, I had gotten pinned. I got my clothes on and stormed out of the gym hiding my face.

So much for "fate" to get choked out 30 seconds into my revenge match. That's not what you would have seen in some sports movie. If I was on the Mighty Ducks or the Titans then I would have defeated my opponent at the end who had beaten me earlier and it would have been a glorious happy ending. But this is real life. And this is how things turn out sometimes. It's curious - how fate works - if there is such a thing as fate.

I was upset, but also confused. I'm not really sure what I was confused about, I was just confused. I bought a smoothie from the snack shack and I sat outside on a table looking at the mountains that surrounded the high school that we were at, talking to one of my closest friends, and fellow wrestler, about wrestling, life, and the connection of the two. After the awards ceremony, I received a medal for 4th place, we left. I was eager to be rid of the place.

I was looking forward to having a good time with my friends later that night. But it didn't really work out. More on that later.

VS.

Life is driven by conflict - both external and internal. In this important stage of my life, I find that I am mired with internal conflict; however, it may just be that I am more aware of it now. There are several different wars waging in my head right now. Fortunately, none of them are horribly wretched, they just give me something to think about.

• Doing what is right vs. what is easy

• Keeping the balance vs. upsetting the balance to do "the right thing"

• Living in the present vs. trying to preserve the past

• Listening to my heart vs. listening to other people

I realize that those are extremely vague, but that is the best way I could categorize it so that it made sense. Perhaps people with similar troubles will understand. I was thinking about a few others over the past couple of days, but I can't remember any of them now.

Many of my conflicts depend on knowing what the right thing to do is. That's why the second bullet point has parenthesis around the (right thing). The point is, I don't know what the right thing to do is. I thought I did, but then when I told others, they didn't feel the same way. Basically, I wanted to tell someone something, because I felt obligated, but I don't talk to them anymore. Most of my friends said that it would be a bad idea to start up a conversation with a person I haven't talk to in three weeks just to give them some bad news. I bet it's pretty easy to guess what it is.

In the end it all comes down to one decision, one question: do I want to have this person in my life anymore? I don't know. There was a time when I couldn't imagine myself asking this question. But things change. Is it possible to avoid change? To avoid losing someone? Is it possible for someone to go from being one of the most important people in your life to being someone you don't talk to? Is any of this up to us?

Stalling is always a good method to cope with the problems you can't really deal with. I have other things to worry about right now. I have decided to deal with this later, though later may be too late. I guess in that sense I have made my decision. The present comes before the past.

Hello, World

Hello Everybody. I am officially starting up this blog. Starting up a blog is akin to bringing a baby into the world and raising it, a bit. When it first comes into the world, it has all of its mechanical, technical, or bodily, functions, but it is severely lacking thoughts, ideas, and possibly feelings; then, you pour all of your own thoughts, ideas, and feelings into it and then it truly becomes your creation and it starts to represent a part of you. Similar.

I don't necessarily have a theme for this blog. Well not yet at least. A theme may come up later, either in a certain time frame or in specific blog posts, but mostly I am planning to play it by ear. I'll just write about what I feel like writing about. I seriously doubt it even matters because it's not like many people will read this.

I mean, blogs aren't really meant to serve the people reading them, but rather the people who write them. I read somewhere that most blogs are "serve-serving malarkey" and I don't doubt that. The internet is filled with a mass of useless information. Just thought I would add some of my own input. If anyone is reading this, enjoy.