Sat here in Skavsta airport with four hours to wait until my plane leaves. I don’t think that I have ever been here this early before, and much to my surprise it is incredibly busy.
My mind should be relaxed, but it’s racing. After four months of solid training, my match is just two days away. I understand that I will be tired when I arrive in London, and the pace of life there will not help matters much. I am just hoping that I can get some sleep on the flight and coach to Victoria, but with RyanAir I have little hope.
Will me meeting my parents for lunch today which will be nice as it will only be the second time I have seen them in a year. Will try to find a small pub somewhere off the bustling streets of central London that do a nice Sunday lunch. I crave a Pork roast right now.
Tomorrow I will just do what I usually do in London, attend a few meetings, catch up with some friends and go for a stroll around Hyde Park. Tuesday though I will be a totally different person.
I know that it has been a while since I have been in a martial arts contest. Seven years almost. It’s not the fact that I am fighting a guy nearly half my age that is making me nervous for the first time.
The fear comes from knowing it’s the last time I will ever compete. Maybe there is a tinge of sadness that it’s my last fight. The result is irrelevant in my mind, win or lose I don’t really care.
What matters the most is that when that final bell rings (or buzzer as it is these days) I know that I can look back on pride of all those years I did the sport. All those runs and gym sessions in the cold, wind rain and sunshine. The broken bones and the bruises, my battle scars for eternity.
There will be a smile on my face as I can then go out and eat and drink what I want to without worrying about not making the 190lb weight limit.
Martial arts, it’s been a 25 year plus journey. I will miss you.
