I don't remember much about Terry Millwood's Open Taekwondo tournament. I assume the incessant roars of a cheering crowd rang loudly through the air during my fight, but I can't say I remember hearing them. The judges stood beside me, then behind me, then in front of me, as I quickly maneuvered around the twelve-by-twelve-foot ring, but all I can remember is the fight. My opponent was as focused on me as I was on him, and just as ignorant of the world outside the ring. He was the only other guy in my division. There would be no second chances if I lost this sparring match. Like a machine gun, a barrage of punches and kicks, low, high and spinning, came towards me, but I maintained my courageous, but faltering, defense in the face of desperation. I was clearly overwhelmed, but giving up wasn't an option. As I was pushed to the edge of the ring, I became desperate. A ring out would have been considered a defeat, and I had already lost once. I gathered all the strength I had left and jumped, spun, and did the wheel kick as hard as I could. However, I also received a powerful kick, which knocked me out of the ring. Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on "Why Violent Video Games Shouldn't Be Banned"? Get an Original Essay For the two days following this loss, all thoughts about taekwondo were associated with a feeling of disappointment and failure. It wasn't so much the loss itself that bothered me, but rather the fact that I lost after many weeks of preparation. About two months before the tournament, my taekwondo instructor, Troy Bates, set a rigorous schedule for our class to prepare for the upcoming event. Our school had never participated in a tournament before this and we were determined to prove ourselves. Every day I went to practice, Mr. Troy wasted no time getting everyone lined up and immediately "getting to the heart of the matter." First came the stretches, then the running exercises, then the forms, then the hand techniques, the kicking techniques, the sparring, and whatever other "prep" he had in mind for us. Frankly, I was pretty tired of preparing for a tournament that I didn't want to participate in at all. Attending training had gone from a fun pastime to a difficult and repetitive task. Sure, it wasn't easy from the start, but now it seemed like Mr. Troy was being tough on us just for the sake of it. Every lesson was “Do technique.” Fixed technique. Repeat.' I didn't sign up for taekwondo lessons for this. I had only started taking lessons as a child to emulate my favorite characters from Dragon Ball Z and the World Wrestling Federation. Before the news about this tournament came, the lessons were fun and interesting and we still learned new techniques and improved our skills. Now we were just fighting in some stupid tournament hosted by some stupid old "Master Trainer" from who knows where. It had been almost a month of "do, fix, repeat" and I was sick of it. So I stopped. For the entire month leading up to the tournament, I didn't attend a single class. I was tired of the extra work and tired of the lack of immediate income. However, after receiving countless pleas from Mr. Troy, my mother managed to convince me to participate in the tournament. Remember: this is just an example. Get a custom paper from our expert writers now. Get a Custom Essay Obviously, I lost in the tournament. The second place trophy I received by default didn't make me feel any better. In the wake of the event, I mulled over my defeat and realized that.