Part of Four Days in London. A memoir about trying to find a way to the Olympics, and finding something else instead. This takes place in April 2010.

“ We start with stars in our eyes

We start believing that we belong..”

A few months in Japan, a hard six-week training camp that included training with Dr. Rhadi Ferguson, and some tune-up competitions, it was finally time to compete. The draw is tough but manageable. My first round opponent is Masias. A capable judo player who beat me in a controversial match just two weeks before in Colorado. He felt beatable then and I’m confident it's my turn. After Masias, I will fight my friend Brian and then be matched up with my teammate Travis Stevens. Not the best draw, but I can do this. If I make it out of this side of the bracket, I can win a spot on the 2010 world championship team. Today will be the moment that I make the biggest step towards fighting in the London games.

Jimmy and I chat briefly. I’m on double deck, meaning I just need to wait for the next two matches to end. I’m nervous but all of those moments of staring in the mirror, repeating my mantra “My name is Christopher Round and I am the 2010 US National Champion” is working. I’m alert and ready.

We bow onto the mat. His left foot comes forward. My right foot comes forward. We clash briefly before going out of bounds. The next decision I make is to cross grip the bottom of his left sleeve with my left sleeve and pull it across my body. I turn hard to my right as my right hand comes around his back. I see my moment to win the match. His left leg comes in front of me before I can take the center space with my right leg. My heels begin to lift up off the ground. Then my toes begin to lift up off the ground. The first thing to hit is my shoulder blades. My back follows. Ippon is called and time seems to stop. Masias loses his next round to Brian.

— — — — —

A teammate loses in the second round. His opponent makes the semi-finals. By the rules of the tournament, he is allowed to come back and try to fight for bronze. They call his name and he withdraws from the tournament. I look at him, with tears in my eyes, and ask him why.

“What’s the point? I quit.”

At that moment all I can think about is how I would do anything in the world to have the same opportunity; to have made all of this worth it. I look at the defeated and broken shell of a man in front of me. My pain is momentarily replaced with rage and I storm off.

— — — — — -

I call my parents, emailed my aunt, and walk to the hotel bar. I can only apologize for what feels like an all-encompassing failure. I don’t know what else I can say to people. I don’t know how to interact. At the bar the only thing that stops me from getting drunk was Jimmy seeing me sitting there and explicitly asking me not to. I see different members of the judo scene come through. I get lunch with Travis. I chat with Carrie and Nick. I try to fill the hole in my chest with social interaction and it isn’t working.

I am overwhelmed by a sense of pain. I feel the pain in my shoulders, in my head, in my calves, and in a giant gaping hole in my chest. I cannot seem to stop crying. The only time I can remember a feeling like this was the death of my grandmother.

Four years later I ran into the film of the match by accident. I had never looked at it. I rewatched it several times to break down what had happened. After recognizing what exactly had transpired I realized it was the exact combination Sam, my training partner from Wales had used against me in Japan. A drop hits the screen of the camera. I place the camera down on my coffee table and realize I had started crying.

I will never watch that film again.

“…But every sun doesn’t rise

And no one tells you where you went wrong”

Waving Through a Window by Ben Plat

End Part 1