This first wound was dealt to me when I was 17. It wasn't the first wound I ever received, but it was one of the most defining ones I had up to that point, and it had a huge impact on my life.
I was an athlete for most of my life. I started playing baseball in first grade, like all young kids I dreamed of playing in the big leagues but I didn't have the talent. When I was in seventh grade, my middle school started seventh grade sports, up until that time it was only eighth grade. They had this trophy case and in it there was a three sports award for students who played three sports with the school, I was young and figured it would impress girls, so I wanted my name on that plaque. (For two years I played three sports and my name still isn't on that plaque for some reason). I always wanted to play football, so I played that, the only spring sport the school offered was Track, so I ran distance, the two winter options were basketball and wrestling. Since I was never any good at basketball I went out for wrestling, and I fell in love with the sport.
I loved the hard work, it is still to this day the most physically demanding thing I have ever done. I loved the competition, being out there on the mat, grappling with an opponent, writing about it makes me want to lace up my shoes and go three rounds. I loved the individual side of things, it was just me out there, no teammate to pick up the slack if I messed up. I loved everything about the sport. I had some pretty crazy goals, the big one was that I wanted to be a four time Ohio State Champion, starting in 7th grade in the middle weights meant this was impossible, but I had good coaches who didn't squash my unrealistic dreams (I later had another great coach who did let me know the reality, but did it in a way that challenged me to work harder, thanks Deke).
Poured myself into this sport, training year round, running, lifting, wrestling anywhere my dad could find open mats to take me, sometimes as much as 6 hours a day. I even worked out with state champions, state placers, even an Olympian, all in the pursuit of my goal, which had become the more realistic ambition of winning a single State Title. My hard work paid off, I got better and better, beating guys who had been wrestling longer that I had, and my junior year of high school it looked like I would be heading to Columbus for a shot of my goal.
I still had some work to do, but I could taste it, fully believing that at the very least I'd make it to State and place. I had a good coach who had invested in me throughout the year, even sending me to the Naval Academy over the summer to take part in a 9 day SEAL wrestling camp, and arranging for me to work out with former champions at his house. I was in the best physical shape of my life. I was strong, fast, could go all out for six minutes; I could score points and take a beating, and I was at the point where I didn't deal with being nervous before a match and went out and just had fun. I knew that it wasn't going to be easy, getting to that point hadn't been, but I had seen the results of my work, and knew that I had what it takes to be one of 16 guys on the bracket in Columbus.
And that's when the wound came...
Fight the lion, 1 Peter 5.1-11
TO GOD ALONE BE THE GLORY!
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