Pressure: it transforms coal into diamonds. It can lift you to new heights, or it can send you crashing down.
I crave being in the lead of a golf tournament. I’m out there alone, being chased by a pack of wolves, who want nothing more than to swallow me up. It’s the ultimate chance to prove myself. I have to keep my thoughts in order and deal with the shot at hand as my chest tightens, my arms feel heavy and my breathing gets shallow.
I feel a sense of calm pass over me when I’m having a good day, picturing the flight of every shot before I hit it. It’s the quintessential feeling of control, but I can only reach that place by surrendering my will to fate.