We're All Sorts of Greek Tragedies
One of my biggest enemies during my high school diving career was the double front flip. It wasn't that the skill was particularly hard(most of the other divers got it with relative ease), but it was just one of those flips that was mentally demanding. Every time you got on the board, you would look down at the edge, imagining yourself hitting your back or head or some other fragile object of yours. Of course, then, you would find the courage to stop thinking and just do. You would run through your hurdle, jump up as high as you possibly could, and you would throw yourself forward in a divine effort to stick the landing. Your surroundings would just turn into rapid colors, and if your face wasn't contorted into a devlish tapestry of panic and adrenaline, one would've thought you were dreaming. Right as you were about to go past the one and a half mark(of the flip), suddenly you lose all your energy. The willpower that signed you up for this sport, pushed you to do things
