Ever have one of those days that you care not to remember?
Mine was the last day I stepped on the mat as a high school wrestler in Northern Virignia.
I was so focused on school and not wrestling my senior season that nothing ever metriculated from my hectic schedule more concerned about making it into the right college. Long story short, I lost. Pulled my warm-up suit over my face and cried. Cried pretty hard. No, not afraid to admit it.
I was crying because it was over. I knew I'd never step on the mat again in competition.
At the time, I wish at that moment, someone had a picture of me injured on the trainer's table crying my eyes out. No, I probably didn't want it immediately after my match but now... now, I wish I had that moment in a frame as a reminder. A reminder that life goes on. A reminder that it's what you do the next day, and the next, that truly count.
This young girl experienced my feelings of the last time on the mat. With tears streaming, and only wanting to be with her parents, she was held by them in the audience.
She will probably want this ten years from now. Laugh or smile.
It's too soon for her to understand the significance of this frame but I hope one day she requests a copy.