Am I an Optimist or a Pessimist?

It is said that only 6% of the population can be considered optimists while a whopping 42% are true pessimists, leaving 52% of the population somewhere in the middle. That is a pretty revealing statistic, although I am a bit skeptical seeing as though 68% of statistics are made up on the spot to prove a point favoring an ideal.

So are you a glass is half full or half empty? Is the grass always greener on the other side...but then where is the other side? If you move from one side of a fence to the other don't you find yourself looking back and wondering if that move was right? That's what my discussion to today's question is about...

To put any doubters or worry warts at ease I will tell you flat out that I believe I am an optimist. I strongly believe that and will admit more often then not I lean toward that middle 52%, but feel that most of the time I lean toward that lonely 6% out there.

I could go on a rant about what a great life I have and how much I enjoy each aspect in it's own way, but I don't think that will be an interesting read. It will be too much babble and not enough of getting to the point of why I feel the way I do.

Instead I am going to tell you a little story about a day in the life of my days training as a professional wrestler (That full story is for another day) and how looking back at this event has made me an optimist. So buckle your seat belts and enjoy the journey. Come along with me will you?

-----------------------
There was a drill that lasted about 5 minutes that we would do and incorporated both of these moves, plus a few others. The goal was for you and a partner to perform these moves in one fluid motion once taking the bumps (when you are tossed around and fall on the mat) and also once giving each move. It was a basic beginning of a match with all the fundamentals.

I was partnered up with one of the more skilled trainees this time and we were last in line. As we watched each pair of people go our instructor (Wagner Brown who always helped train while Walter "Killer" Kowalski watched from his post outside of the ring) seemed to be getting more and more annoyed. The action was just not working. People were messing their spots (when you do a certain set of moves to one another) left and right.

By the time I was up I think Wagner had lost faith in the class for that day. I was determined to get this routine down. I had done well with all the other drills that day and felt good. I just kept telling myself to let things happen and not worry about each spot. Once you start to think too much about what you are doing, it starts to look like the action is choppy.

Myself and Jake (I can't remember his name so Jake will work) paced around the ring. We locked up arm in arm. I grabbed his wrist and twisted it into a wrist lock, moving from there I swung his arm and wrenched it behind his back. Within seconds I pushed his shoulder in and pulled him into a headlock.

Jake pushed me into the ropes but I charged back knocking with his shoulder to mine making him crash to the mat. I jumped over his carcass and rushed toward the ropes springing off them. Jake kept low so I jumped over him laying on his stomach and hit the opposite ropes. Coming back he took a mighty swing at me.

I ducked and bounded again to off the ropes. This time I was ready as I swung my arm across his chest, clothes-lining him to the mat. He quickly got back to his feet and turn toward me. Just as quick I reached and scooped him up into the air in front of me and then body slammed him in the middle of the ring.

Jake ached in pain and forced himself back up. I locked up with him and push him into the far turnbuckle. A CHOP right across his chest rang throughout the building. I grabbed his arm and through him toward the opposite turnbuckle, but his quick thinking and brute force stopped in the middle of the ring and grabbing my arm whipped me toward the other turnbuckle.

I crashed my back into the turnbuckle pads. Looking up I saw I had seconds to react. Jake was charging toward me. I did the only thing I could and rolled out of the way sending him crashing chest first into the turnbuckle.

My knee popped as I rolled. Something was wrong. The adrenaline kept me going.

I bounded up from the roll and turned back to the middle of the ring. Jake was turning around in a daze right at me. I hooked his armpit and Hip Tossed him over me. He instinctively got back to his feet in pain being tossed toward the other corner. He turned toward me, but I was ready.

He swung lazily to the air dazed, but I was too quick. I had grabbed his arm and Arm-Dragged him straight across the ring. Dizzy he fell back into the corner. I show-boated to the the onlookers around the ring and that was my mistake. As I reached to pull him out of the corner of the ring I found a poke in the eye instead.

Within seconds I was locked back up in the middle of the ring with Jake. It was his turn now. The motions were smooth. Everything was repeated, but I was now the one taking each succession of bumps left and right. Clothes-lines and CHOPS to my chest making a red hand print on my skin kept me going.

Move after move was performed with ease and yet I knew something wasn't right. It didn't matter. I was Hip-Tossed and Arm-Dragged across the ring with ease. I got up in a daze and fell limp in the middle of the ropes. Jake charged at me with immense force and clothes-lined me straight over the top rope and out crashing to the floor below.

It was over. I remember echoes of claps ringing out in the loft and whoops and cheers of amazement. We perfected the drill. I got up on my feet and the adrenaline drained...I took and step and slipped. I could not put any pressure on my left leg. I had injured myself and this was an unique injury that would plague me for years to come. (Maybe I will go into detail on that at a later time if anyone wishes to hear it)
-----------------------

You are all probably wondering why this makes me an optimist. Well, I'll tell you. I look back at that day, even now when I sit here writing this after just recently feeling my knee pop and having to hobble around for 5 days and think to myself, I did it.

I may not have been the best trainee in that room, but that moment and that day I was. Even if my knee kept me from continuing training and having fun with that hobby, I still look back and say I did it. I was able to do something that I told myself I could do. And that, my friends, is all that matters to me.