In June 2024, we had a small dinner with the DCU boxing club, one of the lads was moving abroad, and I found myself sitting across from Oran, my club mate and sparring partner. We reflected on the season with mixed feelings about our performances.
I had entered the Porto Box Cup at 71kg and had lost my opening fight against a bigger, more skilled opponent who went on to win the tournament.
Despite losing our respective competitions, Oran and I believed that with focused preparation, we could return next year and compete at the level we knew we were capable of.
I kept training 3 to 5 times a week, testing new techniques in sparring and exhibitions throughout the summer and into the autumn.
In September 2024, I had an exhibition in Manchester that left a mark. It was my first stoppage, where the fight was ended early because I was being overpowered. Last-minute changes before the bout threw me. I entered the ring scattered and tense, my thoughts in a frenzy. My performance reflected that state, and the disappointment stung. I’d hoped the fight would show my progress. Instead, it exposed my shortcomings.
Afterwards, I sat down wondering how I’d lost composure so quickly. Over the following days, it became clear that mental preparation mattered just as much as physical. If I couldn’t maintain composure under pressure, I wouldn’t perform, like shooting a cannon from a canoe. I doubted whether I could handle pressure at all, if I was someone who always caved.
I began learning about sports psychology and how athletes like Michael Phelps used mental rehearsal to prepare for the unexpected, like his goggles filling with water during the 2008 Olympics final, and still went on to win gold and break the world record.
In November, I started a mental visualisation practice to help me stay composed when things didn’t go to plan. I wanted to build the kind of mindset that could hold steady under pressure, to manage fear and get the job done, no matter what came up.
Over Christmas, I took a complete rest from training, as I had finished an aggressive weight cut in the start of December and I needed time to recover. At a family dinner on New Year’s Day, boxing came up. Before I knew it, I said “I’m aiming to win the Porto Box Cup in April.”
Saying it out loud reinforced it and made the decision real. I’d always wanted to pursue something ambitious in sport. But until now, nothing had stuck. Boxing was different. It offered a chance to test myself physically and mentally, with no excuses.
In the past, I often told myself I’d ‘try my best.’ But in hindsight, I realised I wasn’t aiming to succeed; I was playing it safe. This time, I was fully committed, no half measures. I wanted to win. Porto felt like it was just within arm’s reach, and I believed with the right preparation, I could produce a performance I’d be proud of.
At the heart of it, this is the story of pursuing a meaningful goal, one that invigorates and intimidates you. It either pulls you forward or quietly lingers until you’ve done something about it.
This is part one of a 10-part series, released weekly, tracing the twists and turns as they unfolded.
On January 2nd, the countdown began. I had 13 weeks. Next week’s post picks up from there. I’ll walk through the first five weeks, where the plan started to take shape, and how early progress gave me confidence.
In the meantime, think about one meaningful goal you’ve pursued before.
- What made it meaningful?
- What was at stake for you, personally?
- How did it change you?