When the Worrier is in control, attacking my mind with endless repeats of unhelpful thoughts, I feel weak and defeated. Two decades ago, I would have instinctively turned to food for comfort but 16 years ago I have found another way to disrupt the endlessly turning wheel of misery and grief: kickboxing.

My very first lesson started with the instruction to flex our ab’s.  Just as I was wondering if I had any and where to find them exactly, our trainer started kicking the first person in line into the stomach with what I now know as a front kick. When it was my turn, I braced myself for the hard impact and humiliation. My trainer however, had the sense not to push too hard and I learnt one important lesson that day: It’s enough to just stand your ground.

From that day on I became not the best but the most loyal student. When a kickboxing lesson was scheduled I was there. When I fell, I got up again. When I had pain, I endured and carried on. It made me realise that I could take a lot more than I thought, that I was stronger than I had ever imagined. During my first husband’s terminal illness I punched and kicked myself through the weeks and months of debilitating hospital visits. During the lessons I could be myself, forgetting for a while that tomorrow we’d go for another chemotherapy or hear bad news from his doctor. 

Since then, kickboxing has become my constant companion, my lifeline pulling me through dark times, keeping me physically and mentally strong in the knowledge that I do not have to win, be the strongest or best because all of that will one day fade away. I just have to be there, turn up, stand my ground, face my fears. Then the Worrier doesn’t get a chance to pull me back into its endless cycle of pain, grief and self-pity. That is enough.

Read the complete entry on my blog.