Games

There I was on a varnished hardwood floor, barefoot, making aggressive eye contact with my opponent, the US title holder of women's lightweight Taekwondo champion. We had been intricately dancing, feints, complicated steps, goading the other to give up her tactics, strategies, and vulnerabilities. A muggy day outside in Detroit, my mother screamed in rage at the judges when they appropriately didn't score my big toe brushing the outside of her shoulder, but inappropriately scoring my opponent when she barely grazed my nose with her roundhouse. At black belt level, one had to prove and show impact. Head shots are the most obvious impact - the judges were familiar with her, not me, and were jittery to start scoring.

My insteps were taped, only single wrapped per regulation on a piece of foam cut from my first set of shin guards. My mouthpiece conformed to the roof of my mouth while also restricting the air flow I needed to execute an anaerobic combination of spinning, power, and high kicks for three 1 minute qualification rounds. I had tasted victory on my first match - my opponent's spirit and desire to finish gone after the first round and a half of my onslaught of combination double round house kicks to her flank (1 point each) finishing with a drop kick to her head (2 points). A week earlier I walked the lawn, receiving my Bachelors and celebrated that journey with my family and friends. With six days left until weigh-in, I fasted, jogged in as much clothing as I could, to sweat out the celebratory six pounds at the 2002 US Taekwondo Championships in Detroit. In the second match, I won't forget the taste of bile in the back of my throat, and I won't forget the journey that took me there (in front of a US defending champion) - 

getting knocked out a year and a half ago, my vision fading in and out in an ill-ventilated Richmond gymnasium, crying because I was scared and annoyed with myself. (The silver lining was getting closer to the tall dark handsome heavyweight on the Virginia team, as he doctored me with anti-pain medicine, care, and understanding). 

And then I came back for more, I placed and I went to my first US National Taekwondo Championship tournament in Cleveland. It had been a demonstration event at the Olympics and this year the stakes were higher, as it was rumored back in 2000 Taekwondo would become an Olympic medal sport. And so it did. Trying to get to the World Championships, cutting weight, lifting at the gym, six day work outs to include pummeling swinging heavy bags with my insteps and knuckles until they were raw, partner drills, sprints, long runs, endless practice sparring matches, bruises, and sprains. In 2004 I walked away from reaching the possibility of competing on the world athletic stage to represent the US in a different way. And now, 10 years later I watch in rapt attention the Olympic games. Those emotions, the athlete's families, the victories, the comeback, and my favorite - the underdog (go Slovenia!!!). To all who know, you can't be a champion if you don't ever begin.