Beat Yourself Up
Venue of: The TAGB Southern Championships |
For a
competition morning, it’s not too early. Step to the car with the sun raising
an orange eyebrow at us, like we’ve disturbed it. A pelt of cloud is slung
above the road. I drink thermos coffee, think of this as a travelling café. The
cloud won’t fool me: inevitably, if I have chosen to spend my spare day in the
maxi-sized box of a leisure centre hall, the sun will rise and stretch and
shine. Fire doors are chinked open, to draw some fresh calm in, to release some
steam and fear. I see the light outside: I know. But we have our own world in
here, our own glorious perturbing friendly
fist-and-foot fast wielding
world, propelled by lists, protocol, courtesy, the audacious desire to win. The opportunities of
losing aren’t always overlooked; a dinked ego can let some good in. (Treat with
a sting of honesty, or a balm of the knowledge that you tried the best you knew
how. If you’re unsure, you can ask one of our medics.)
The
shiniest medals I saw today were the ones that came as a validation for the
confidence to try. The real competition is always with your self.
Silver for Ladies Black Belt patterns, as won by my Fabulous Niece |
Comments
Love to you this morning, my dear Lils.