Victoria's Personal Column

“You couldn’t have just played soccer or volleyball?” My mother was horrified about this new hobby that I had decided to pick up at school. Mental images of WWE matches and bodies soaring through the air blazed through her head like a wild fire and seemed to make her sick to the stomach. She conjured up the most ridiculous and farfetched scenarios possible to characterize the sport. What if I got injured or paralyzed for life?

Freshman year. As I was sitting at my locker, a huge, grinning African-American man came marching towards me. He introduced himself as Mr. Mason, an administrator for the school, but more importantly, the assistant coach of the boys wrestling team. He wanted to start a girl’s team at the school, so he was recruiting freshman girls for the job. I did not even give myself time to think before I made the decision. I wrestle. When Mr. Mason walked away I said those two words in my head over and over again. It was starting to sound less frightening and more electrifying.

I had never experienced the type of pain and exhaustion I felt on the first few practice days. Running four miles without rest, doing push-ups until our arms fell off, drilling wrestling moves repetitively until they came to us like second nature. The coaches were on a mission to make us tough and wouldn’t relent until we were mean, lean wrestling machines. “He’s not your teammate, he’s not your friend, he is your opponent.” During practice, my teammates and I would beat each other to little pulps. Bruises, aching body parts, it was all worth it to feel your hand raised by the referee at the end of a match, signifying your triumph over your opponent.

Coach Durning, the head coach, was a native Pennsylvanian, where wrestling is more than life or death. That man was the toughest being I had ever encountered. He bequeathed me with a new necessity to win. Every match, every tournament, every opponent was my enemy, and I had to either crush them or allow them to crush me.

 For only having participated in the sport for such a short amount of time, I performed exceedingly well. During the summer, when wrestlers change from folkstyle wrestling to freestyle wrestling, I won a medal in every tournament I participated. My most significant accomplishment was winning the district championships over a girl who had beaten me earlier in the year.

Wrestling was more than just a hobby or a sport, it was a lifestyle. My friends and family could not begin to comprehend why on earth I would chose such a barbaric sport, but I found it beautiful and exhilarating. Constantly trying to stay in shape, keep my weight down and polish my skills made me a stronger, more disciplined person. More than the medals, the true achievement was proving to myself that I am not weak, because if I could survive wrestling, I can survive anything.