Did I Do My Best to Be My Best?

A question came up recently:

"What do you guys do in the days before your fight to get into the right headspace?"

I've competed in wrestling for most of my life, and I think that prepared me pretty well for the mental side of competition. I've always been able to get relatively relaxed before competing. I'm not someone who needs to spend the entire day pacing around the room, psyching myself up for what's about to happen.

But there is one question I've always asked myself before an important competition, and especially before a fight:

Did I do my best to be my best?

That's the question I want answered before I walk into competition.

• Did I prepare as well as I possibly could?

• Did I take any shortcuts?

• Did I do the work when I didn't feel like doing it?

• Did I prepare for the things I knew I needed to prepare for?

• Did I give myself every reasonable opportunity to perform at my best?

If the answer is yes, then I feel pretty good about where I am. That doesn't mean I know I'm going to win. It doesn't mean I know exactly how the fight is going to go. It doesn't mean I suddenly have control over everything that is about to happen. It means I've done my part.

And at some point, that's all you can do.

The Part You Can Control

This is probably one of the most important things competition has taught me. There is a point where preparation ends and competition begins.

Up until that point, you have an enormous amount of control. You can train. You can study your opponent. You can improve your conditioning. You can work on your weaknesses. You can prepare your game plan. You can eat properly, sleep properly and show up ready.

You can make decisions every day that either move you toward being prepared or away from it.

Once the fight starts, things change.

• Your opponent gets a vote.

• Maybe they are better than you expected.

• Maybe they do something you didn't prepare for.

• Maybe you make a mistake.

• Maybe you get caught.

• Maybe the referee makes a decision you don't agree with.

• Maybe you have the best performance of your life.

• Maybe you have a terrible night.

• There are too many variables to control all of them.

That's why I don't spend much time worrying about the outcome before a fight. I worry about whether I did everything I could to prepare for it. If I can honestly answer yes, then I've done my job. Now it's time to compete.

And Then the Butterflies Show Up

Of course, knowing this doesn't mean you don't get nervous. Eventually, you're backstage. The fight is getting closer. You can hear what's happening outside. Your body knows something is about to happen.

The butterflies show up.

I've learned not to fight that feeling. Instead, I try to change the way I think about it.

I visualize those butterflies actually being inside my chest. Then I imagine that I'm an iron furnace. I light a fire from somewhere deep inside me, and that fire starts to grow. It gets hotter. It gets bigger. And eventually it burns those butterflies up. What I'm left with isn't fear disappearing. It's energy. It's life. It's that feeling of being completely awake and completely present because there is something important about to happen.

I actually like that feeling. I've spent enough time competing to know that I don't need to eliminate the nerves. I need to use them.

You Don't Need to Feel Fearless

I think sometimes fighters believe they are supposed to walk into competition without fear.

I don't think that's realistic. You're about to voluntarily get into a cage with another person who is trying to hurt you. Your body should probably notice that.

Being nervous doesn't mean you're mentally weak or unprepared. It means you understand that what you're about to do matters. The goal isn't to eliminate the butterflies. The goal is to become comfortable carrying them.

That's part of competition. Eventually the walkout comes. The cage door closes. And all of the preparation, all of the visualization, all of the nerves and all of the questions about what might happen become irrelevant.

That's when I come back to the same thought I've carried into competition for years:

Did I do my best to be my best?

If the answer is yes, then whatever happens next is out of my hands. And that's actually a pretty freeing place to be. Now it's just time to go compete.

And, of course, having a killer playlist doesn't hurt.