At the wrestling wall.
At the taped boundaries.
“I wanted to see if I still belonged somewhere.”
“You belong.”
“That's easy for you to say.”
“No. It isn't.”
Renee looked at her.
Miriam continued.
“People think quitting means you were weak.”
“I know.”
“Sometimes quitting is the strongest thing a person can do.”
Renee looked down.
“I didn't quit because I was weak.”
“I know.”
“I quit because I was scared.”
Miriam didn't respond.
Renee's fingers tightened around the edge of the mat.
“Eight years ago, I was training for the national trials.”
Miriam knew this part.
But she let Renee continue.
“I was twenty-six. I thought wrestling was everything.”
“You were good.”
“I was very good.”
Miriam smiled.
“You're allowed to say it.”
Renee laughed softly.
“I was very good.”
She paused.
“I had been wrestling since I was twelve. By twenty-six, I knew exactly what my body could do.”
“And then?”
“And then it did something it couldn't.”
Renee's right knee had a thin scar.
Miriam had noticed it before.
“I tore the ACL,” Renee said. “Then the meniscus. Then I tore something in my other knee compensating.”
“That's a lot.”
“It was.”
“You had surgery?”
“Two.”
“And rehabilitation?”
“Fourteen months.”
Miriam waited.
“But you came back.”
“Yes.”
“So why quit?”
Renee looked toward the far wall.
“Because I wasn't afraid of losing.”
Miriam understood.
“You were afraid of getting hurt again.”
“No.”
Renee shook her head.
“I was afraid of what happened after I got hurt.”
Miriam frowned.
Renee continued.
“Everybody kept telling me I was inspirational.”
Her voice became bitter.
“Doctors. Coaches. Sponsors. Teammates. People online.”
She laughed once.
“They all wanted the comeback story.”
“And you didn't.”
“I wanted my life back.”
She rubbed her knee.
“But every time I stepped on the mat, I wasn't thinking about wrestling anymore.”
“What were you thinking about?”
“The next injury.”
Miriam said nothing.
“I could feel it coming before it happened. Every shot. Every scramble. Every takedown. I was waiting for something to break.”
“And eventually?”
“I stopped.”
“Just like that?”
“No.”
Renee smiled sadly.
“It took me two years to stop.”
Miriam looked at her.
“So why come back now?”
Renee stood.
“Because I realized something.”
“What?”
“I wasn't afraid of wrestling.”
She looked down at the mat.
“I was afraid of becoming the woman who used to wrestle.”
Miriam understood.
“That woman doesn't have to come back.”
“I know.”
Renee stepped onto the mat.
“I just want to find out who I am now.”
The Challenge
Tuesday's training was normal.
Wednesday was not.
Ethan approached Renee after class.
“You free Friday?”
Renee looked up.
“For what?”
“Open mat.”
“I'll probably be here.”
“I meant with me.”
She smiled.
“I thought we already trained.”
“One round isn't enough.”
“For what?”
“To settle something.”
Renee's expression changed.
“There is nothing to settle.”
“You caught me off guard.”
“You attacked me six times.”
“I wasn't serious.”
“You were.”
Ethan crossed his arms.
“Okay.”
Renee waited.
“I want a hard round.”
“No.”
The answer came immediately.
Ethan blinked.
“Why?”
“Because I don't want one.”
“That simple?”
“Yes.”
“You're worried?”
Renee laughed.
“No.”
“Then why not?”
“Because you're angry.”
“I am not angry.”
“You're competitive.”
“So are you.”
Renee shook her head.
“That's the difference.”
“What difference?”
“I used to compete because I needed to win.”
“And now?”
“Now I train because I like being here.”
Ethan didn't like that answer.
It sounded like wisdom.
And he didn't want wisdom.
He wanted another round.
“You think you're better than me.”
Renee's expression hardened.
“No.”
“You don't?”
“No.”
“Then what do you think?”
She looked at him.
“I think you're good.”
“That sounds like a compliment.”
“It is.”
“But?”
Renee hesitated.
“You're trying to prove something that doesn't need proving.”
Ethan laughed.
“You don't know me.”
“No.”
She picked up her bag.
“But I know that look.”
“What look?”
“The look of someone who thinks one loss changes who they are.”
Ethan froze.
Renee walked away.
He stood there, angry.
Not at her.
At how accurately she had described him.
Pressure
Friday arrived.
The competition class was full.
Miriam announced the rounds.
Ethan was paired with a visiting black belt.
Renee worked with Tyler.
For three minutes, Renee controlled the round.
Not by dominating.
By solving.
Tyler shot.
She sprawled.
He recovered.
She passed.
He reversed.
She escaped.
When the whistle blew, Tyler was exhausted.
“You're insane,” he said.
Renee smiled.
“You're young.”
“That doesn't make sense.”
“It will.”
Across the room, Ethan watched.
His opponent noticed.
“You want to pay attention?”
Ethan snapped back.
“Sorry.”
The round resumed.
Ten minutes later, competition class ended.
Most people left.
A few stayed for open mat.
Ethan stayed.
Renee stayed.
They avoided each other.
For twenty minutes.
Then Ethan walked over.
“Can we talk?”
Renee nodded.
“I owe you an apology.”
She looked surprised.
“For what?”
“For assuming you couldn't handle the pace.”
“Okay.”
“And for pushing.”
“Okay.”
“And for looking you up.”
That made her smile.
“Did you find anything interesting?”
“Too much.”
Renee sat down.
Ethan remained standing.
“I saw the articles.”
“I figured.”