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The Room
People say that the wrestling room is just some smelly, old, worn out room that nobody cares about. They think it’s just a room where they can do whatever they feel like doing. To me “The Room” is a special place. It’s the place where blood, sweat, and guts are found. It separates the boys from the men, and it determines if you have the heart to be a true champion. So if you think “The Room” is not for you, you shouldn’t be reading this.
When I walk into that wrestling room, it’s like walking into a different world. I can make this room my own creative place, just for me. As I’m walking in, I immediately smell that clean, fresh mat smell after being soaked in soap and washed off. Once I have notice this smell, I’m pretty much ready to go. It’s the only smell that has its own unique smell. I see all of the other wrestlers’ faces to see which one I might have to wrestle during practice. Will I wrestle that guy who sweats the most and just smells horrible? I could wrestle the guy who talks to himself and make fun of him while I’m wrestling with him. As I’m looking, I see that one wrestler who is the power-house of wrestling. This guy has got it all the huge legs, abs, hands, and arms. His veins are bulging out of everyplace on his entire body. This guy looks like Popeye after he eats his spinach. He looks like a bull getting ready to chase after me. His face is just so straight and he really looks focused on getting better today. Anything I can possible think of, this guy has got it all. I think to myself, “Man, I hope I get a chance to wrestle him.”
As I’m practicing, I can hear the coaches yelling to keep pushing yourself and just screaming at you. It’s like a military drill sergeant getting into my face and spitting all over me. It’s like they have a microphone attached to their throat and they’re just constantly yelling and your ears are just ringing. It gets to be so bad sometimes that I just want to be deaf so that I don’t hear the yelling anymore. The music is just going and it’s like my heart is racing and pounding out of my chest. It’s the kind of music that really goes deep into my heart and it finds that determination. I start to get that feeling and I feel that adrenaline kick in. The feeling of the goose-bumps and the feeling of the adrenalin is what keeps me going through the dreaded practice.
As I wrestle, I can feel those heaters just blowing. When I feel that heat, it’s like I’m in a steaming hot sauna, but worse. I can take a deep breath and all that I take in is the steaming heat. Theres no fresh air to take in and every breath is the humid hot air. My whole body is on fire from all the heat and I just want to go outside where its nice and cold and roll around in the snow, but instead I have to go two hours in that blazing, hot room.
Throughout the practice the inside of my mouth starts to get this sticky dry feeling. That is a wrestlers worst taste and they call it “cotton mouth”. It is not pretty once I get it because that is all that I’m thinking about. I just want to soak my mouth in that nice cold, pure, clear, delicious water, but instead I have the sticky, dry mouth. I get that taste and I feel like I’m an old person with no saliva in my mouth.
As the practice is going, I’m always with somebody for a partner. Not only is it that I’m just drenched in sweat, my partner is also. As I’m pushing and pulling him, their skin is just pure sweat. I’m trying so hard to get a grip on them, but I keep slipping. It’s like trying to wrestle somebody who is covered in slippery soap and I just get frustrated. I tell myself how can I keep this going? I’m tired, sore, covered in sweat, and the practice is just so intense.
After being tossed, turned, thrown, scratched, anything that I can think of, the practice is finally over. It’s the greatest feeling in the world when the coach says “Keep walking, good job tonight boys”. It is like I’m walking through the gates of heaven as I walk out the practice door. Instantly, I feel the cold air hit my body and face. It just attacks me, like the cold air swarms my body and I feel relief. My body starts to shiver a little because it’s just drenched in pure sweat. As I’m walking, I start to think to myself and ask questions. “Did I make myself better today? Did I make everybody else better today? Am I in shape? Did I practice hard enough to make my weight?” These are the questions going through my mind. In the end, I know that these questions are already answered. I did all that could do to meet my goals. I did all of this because of “The Room.”
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