This is a pic from the 2016 Paris grand slam. Jimmy told me this tourney was my test run for Rio; That I should treat it like the Olympics and find a way to win no matter what.
All day I was on fire. Winning all of my matches in dominant fashion. Mentally I was ready To finally win that elusive Paris gold.
In the final I faced my long time rival, Mayra of Brazil. I felt good, I felt relaxed, I felt like I was going to win. But I didn’t. I got bombed about 1:30 into the match.
I still think about that day and I still watch that match more often than I probably should. Although it pains me that I never won Paris, it brightens me to remember how much that loss fueled me for the last leg of my career. I woke up the next morning before the sun was up and went for a run. I didn’t skip a day or a session or a minute of training from that cold February morning until Rio.
Nothing burns hotter than the heat of failure. I was a woman obsessed.
It would be the last match I ever lost.
So just remember- Sometimes the sting is just a wake up call.
The memories aren’t always pretty, but they can always be motivating.