Would “the Heartbreaker” be a good WWE name for me?

Since returning home from Rio with some new hardware, an offer from the iconic wrestling/entertainment brand was probably the most surprising opportunity yet.

At the end of November I will head down to their headquarters in Florida and see if their star-making machine is for me. But the fun doesn’t end there. My gold medal has taken me to fascinating places like Iqaluit, to share my story with the kids there, and in December I hope to be drafted into the Indian Pro Wrestling League, which brings together the top freestyle wrestling talents from around the world to compete in front of millions of TV viewers.

Fun as all of this is, winning gold at the Olympic Games doesn’t guarantee a life of fame or fortune. Riches are especially not the point in freestyle wrestling, but that’s not what motivated me to stay in the sport for this long.

Nine years ago to the exact day, I followed the tradition of so many big dreamers and moved west, to Calgary, to chase after my big, crazy dream. I was wrestling at the University level for the first time, and I was completely and utterly pointless. Literally.

I had not scored a single point in two months, I was sore in places I never knew existed, tired, worn out, and questioning everything I knew about myself. Every day was a grind as I was pushed to my limits, mentally, physically and emotionally.

I had worked 10-hour days the previous summer to afford the move, and I was still taking on massive student loans. I had left behind my friends and family to chase after this dream of being the best in the world in my sport. I loved wrestling, but on this day I was failing.