It’s 8:26 AM on Saturday, June 6th. I’m sitting on my porch, coffee in one hand, a joint in the other, thinking about tonight. In about 10 hours, I’ll step onto the mat for my first NFC match. What’s crazy is that this isn’t just another tournament. Most of the time when I compete, there are multiple opponents, multiple matches, and a gold medal waiting at the end if everything goes right. Tonight is different. One match. One opponent. One opportunity. As I sit here reflecting, my mind keeps going back five years. I remember sitting in the crowd at NFC events, watching my teammates, my friends, and the guys I looked up to walk out under those lights. I remember thinking, “Man, how cool would it be to do that one day?” And now here I am. Ten hours away from doing it myself. The thing that’s hitting me hardest this morning isn’t the nerves. It’s the time. When you’re in this game every day, it’s easy to get caught up in the next stripe, the next belt, the next tournament, the next achievement. You’re so focused on what’s ahead that you don’t realize how much life is passing by while you’re chasing it. Then one day you wake up and realize something. The higher the belt gets, the more the years attached to it matter. You stop thinking, “I’ve got plenty of time.” You start thinking, “I’ve got one less day.” And somehow that makes days like today feel even more special. Tonight I’ll step onto that mat in front of my family, my friends, my teammates, and everyone who’s been part of this journey. Win or lose, that’s not something I take lightly. Because at 39 years old, being able to say I competed on one of the biggest stages in jiu-jitsu is pretty damn incredible. Not because of the result. Because of the journey. Because there was a younger version of me sitting in those seats wishing for this opportunity. And today, that guy gets his chance. So I’ll enjoy every second of it. The nerves.The excitement.The walkout.The handshake.The battle. All of it.