My 15-year-old son ended his sophomore wrestling season with two disappointing losses in the state tournament. The end to an 11-4 season was less than pretty. My heart aches for the kid, because he worked his heart out for this season. He lifted weights and moved from the 172-pound weight class to 220. He was on the light side of the new weight class at somewhere less than 210 lb, but he had amassed a good 35 lb of added muscle—mostly in the legs from squatting and deadlifting (the exercises least favored by teenage boys who prefer bench press and arm curls). He pinned 11 kids this season. Two of his losses were to ranked kids, who will likely place today in the final rounds. He had a great season. I am always proud of him (and my daughter).
This weekend is also the conclusion of the Olympic trials in Track & Field. These competitions and the end of the wrestling season remind me that very few who try ever come out on top (that is, “win the gold”). Nearly one-hundred percent “lose” their final bout/race. This does not lessen the accomplishment.
I reconnected with my high school wrestling coach after many decades. I carried a burden of having let my team down my senior by selfishly refusing to take my place on the team at 185 lbs (in the days before the 195 and 220 lb weight classes; when there was only 185 and Unlimited). I was dealing with a lot of sh** and had come out of an equally sh*tty football season with a pinched nerve in my neck. I didn’t want to lose the 30 pounds of weight that I had lost and gained over the previous two seasons. I wanted to wrestle heavyweight, where we already had a capable wrestler. Unfortunately, we were too comparable for me to take the position, and I rode bench as a result. Finally, wised up and dropped the weight (at this point 17 lbs) to make weight for a match for which the 185 pounder (who could now move to 165) was sick. I lost the weight in 24 hours (something that can’t be done anymore in wrestling) and remained there for the rest of the season. Dropping weight like this is certainly unwise, and, though, I wrestled well in that first match, it showed for the rest of the season. I really let my team down. After nearly forty years, my coaches only response to my regret was “you showed up.” I still regret having been so selfish, but this eased the burden.
Life is about showing up. It is about being our best today (even when today’s best isn’t as good as we hoped) and being better tomorrow. It is about the doing. It is not about the winning. They say, “in wrestling there are no losers, only winners and learners.” This is why wrestling is such a great analogy for life. In life there are so few “winners”, but there are countless “learners”—IF we allow ourselves to be.
Yesterday was rough for my son (and the sons of many other wrestlers—Friday was the girl’s tournament or I would have included “daughters”), but today is a new day. Tomorrow will be, as well. He is already planning what he needs to do for next season. There will be more weights and conditioning. There will be more work on technique. As we went to go to bed last night, my wife discovered that our son was not to be found. We soon learned that he had gone for a run. It did not seem as self-punishment. Rather he ran to clear his head. He learned yesterday.
We are going to lose more than we win. It is our choice to learn or to be defeated.
Be your best today; be better tomorrow.
Carpe momento!
Enjoyed this and it is quite true that it is our choice to learn, even through defeat. Thanks Jeff.