The hook: even after many competition experiences in various sports throughout my life, I still feel angry when I don’t win, but this time I had a different vantage point.
I took time to witness my feelings as they occurred. As my competitors sparred each other, I watched the movie of my mind play. I listened like a curious therapist to my own internal dialogue, and felt the psychological rush of emotions in my body. What a rollercoaster!
Anger, frustration, self doubt and self pity, jealousy… pounding heart, heat, furrowed brow, muscle tension, jaw clenching, lip starting to quiver, swallowing…. and on the other side an internal coach attempting to steer the emotions in the opposite direction. Take a deep breath. Relax shoulders. Injecting gratitude for the opportunity, and an able, healthy body; pride for having been brave enough to try in the first place, and for having been committed and consistent in my training to support that courage. Gratitude that my husband joined me and my children also got to experience the incredible international community of the Traditional Tang Soo Do Federation. Affirmations of self worth. Everyone in this room is worthy regardless of whether they win or lose. In fact, in most cases, no one would ever question that including myself, so why do I do it about myself?
My internal coach acknowledged all the many other reasons I took up this sport that have nothing to do with my results in a tournament (fitness, mobility, mind body connection, brain exercise, family activity, etc.). It pointed out the illogical nature of my negative reactions. I noticed I wanted to give up and throw it all away because I felt disappointed in myself, but I also know it’s a ridiculous notion to give up after only one tournament result in a sport that is literally based on discipline, commitment, and dedicated practice toward continuous improvement.
I felt angry that the referees did not count a number of my points (from my perspective) and counted several points for my opponent that had hit my arm, not the scoring area (the coach has no positive counter for that one, haha). It made for a great discussion in the car later, including a brainstorm of ways to solve this issue using technology.
Coming from a background of team sports, boxing, and popular individual competitions like running, I still have some mixed emotions about the lack of matches competitors in martial arts. Often the medals are awarded based on a single fight or two against only a few people. I suppose that’s not too different than boxing, except that boxers are matched up with a competitor especially selected as a good match based on skill, weight, and age. I had mixed feelings about the results in this tournament because of the difference in belt rankings in my group. Not surprisingly, there aren’t many middle aged women at lower belts in martial arts. Most started young and so the black belt group has a disproportionate number of females compared the other belt ranks (many of them still very young). The math itself explains why the groups break down the way they do - it’s as close to fair as realistically possible.
Our group only had 3 sparring competitors. A yellow belt, an orange belt (myself), and a green (with red tag). The outcome reflected the ranks, which I predicted might happen. Though I’m aware there’s always a chance a less experienced fighter could beat a more experienced one, I also consider it an exceptional case. The competitor in me feels it’s a hollow victory to win against a lower ranking belt. On the flip side, I also fought a higher ranked fighter than myself, so I had both high hopes and realistic expectations. Maybe I had the easiest set of expectations as the middle ranked fighter.
In the spirit of martial arts, I suppose the yellow belt getting bronze, the orange getting silver, and the green getting gold was the theoretical best outcome because it directly reflects the idea that more experience, practice, and dedication translates to better skill. The yellow belt walked away with experience fighting higher ranked fighters and the hope that continued dedication will result in improvement. The green belt walked away knowing that their effort and dedication has paid off. And the orange belt got a bit of both. “At the end of the day, you just got to say it’s alright…”
I may have taken for granted the years of experience in other sports like soccer, that taught me how to be a good sport. This tournament challenged me physically, mentally, and emotionally. It also showed me that my yoga and meditation practice have changed how I experience my emotions. I am a good sport - but that doesn’t mean I can’t still feel all the messy emotions of winning and losing.
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