As I sit here staring at this screen, I think about the day that I've just experienced. My body brused, sore and hurting. My knees red and my back in pain. As I sit back and remember the walk I had to take, the guys I had to fight, my body sore from 250LDS of flesh and bones pounding on my face, I remember. I think of how it felt when I felt the first punch of life on my face, the sting, the disbelief, the shock. As I try to return the punches, I realize I am unable to, not because I won't but because I can't. I sit here and remember when he knocked me on the ground, and how mad I got. I remember everyone yelling, "get up", I remember him standing over me saying, "come on". I remember getting up and wanting to fight back, I remember him pounding my face, left punch, right punch, rib blow, stomach blow. I remember me thinking I can take it. I remember the stings of the punches and me getting mad, damn near biting my mouth guard in half, eyes filled with water, sucking in air trying to breath. I remember him staring at me with the look of death in his eyes saying, "come on". Finally tired of getting beat, I ram into his body and get a clinch as the coach says, "STOP". As the fighter pats me on my back I walk away still mad, upset, pride hurt I began to hypervenilate. I get to a corner and the tears fall from my face, not because I am hurting but my pride. I think, "Damn I know I am a girl, but I should have beat him". I turn away and I say to myself thank God it is finally over.