Vacation from Myself

2 more days of contact/sparring.

4 months of preparation draws to a close.
Cancelled fights. Wasted bloodwork and eye exams. Opponents backing out.
Untold hours, dollars, exertion spent.
Every time I couldn't go out with friends, enjoy a quiet night on the couch/relaxing, see a movie, every morning up early. Every peaceful drive home after slaving in the hell of the gym.
Very soon I'll stand underneath the bright, hot lights and smile. Because the fight is the payoff. Small gloves will be strapped to my hands. Punishment will be meted out. The fight is the reward for my blood, sweat, and tears. It's a taste of glory in exchange for every morning awoken beaten, battered, bruised, tired, and aching. It's a taste of glory in exchange for every failure, for every tap out, for every bump, bruise, drop of sweat, puke, tears, blood, and the burn of vaseline in my eyes.
It's a taste of glory in exchange for my willingness to face fear, doubt, and failure.
The familiar feel of my mouthpiece, blood, sweat, tears, vaseline and the white hot burn/scream of my muscles will embrace me. A feeling of being alive few understand will envelop.

I'll have 3 rounds of freedom.
I'll be on vacation from myself.

:)