Losing three in a row hurts. There’s no way around that.
It was never a matter of preparation or mindset. I’ve put in the work. I’ve sacrificed. But the gap between being a champion and feeling like an ultimate failure can be so small—and I still haven’t found that breakthrough I’m chasing.
This sport is a game of inches and milliseconds. Technique, tactics, timing, a little bit of luck, and a whole lot of faith.
In a lot of sports, a loss doesn’t carry the same weight. You may get another chance that week or the following weekend to make it right. In fighting, we’re fortunate to compete maybe two or three times a year. There are no seasons. No guarantees. We work day in and day out, sacrifice our bodies, and put everything on the line for 15 minutes to make something happen.
So yeah, losing hurts.
Not just because of the L on the record, but because of everything that comes with it—finances, opportunities, confidence, self-worth, and all the thoughts that try to creep in afterward.
But I’m grateful that fighting is not my identity.
My identity is in my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. My life is not my own. I’ll continue to be a living sacrifice and do my best to honor Him in whatever I do—whether I’m winning or losing.
Life is a vapor in the grand scheme of time. Cherish your people. Hug the ones you love whenever you get the chance. Give compliments. Lift others up. Give your best effort in whatever you do.
Those simple principles are what keep me grounded.
But damn… I want to win.