One heck of a fight!

Heading into last week, I knew that there would be a number of challenges ahead of me. Some would be a bit daunting ,however I believed there were none that I could not handle. and so it was,I faced Monday morning determined to handle all that came my way with a smile and an air of confidence.
Then Tuesday morning happened!
Without going into detail,I was met with a hay maker of a blow that sent me reeling. Like a boxer who just took a shot square on the jaw, I felt my knees go weak as I headed to the canvas . A voice inside of my head starting counting...1-2-3- Oh no....this time I may be going down for the count. I regained my composure,wiped off my gloves and nodded my head to the ref as if to say I'm okay and continued on with my week.By the end of the day Tuesday, I had made it to my corner,back home safely. I was still wobbly and in a lot of trouble.
Before I new it,the bell rang. It was Wednesday morning and I was back in the thick of the battle. My legs were unsure underneath me.My vision was still blurry. I could barely catch my breath and my arms felt as if they were too heavy to lift up to protect myself. I was determined to fight on and managed to gather my wits about me enough to protect myself from further damaging blows. Shot after shot came at me through out the day,beating me down and wearing away at me. As any fighter knows, all you need is to stay on your feet , protect yourself,keep moving and jabbing and you will survive.As the week continued,and I got deeper and deeper into the fight, my head cleared . I new that I had it in me to make it to the final bell,the weekend.
Thursday brought more punishment .
 I grew more and more tired as the week went on. By Friday,my shoulders were slumping, my breathing was labored and my body as well as my spirit was battered and bruised.I was however still standing. And as long as I am still standing I knew I had a shot.I had emptied my proverbial gas tank. Try as I might, I could not mount any real offense. I could not find that big punch inside of me to earn a knockout. I did not have the strength to mount a furious offensive flurry which might swing the fight my way and lead me to victory. And still I kept fighting. I would not give in. I would not go down.
It's Saturday afternoon. I am sore, tired and still aching from the battle of the week that just ended. My head is a lot clearer now. I am not 100% sure,just how much damage was done and how it will affect my performance moving forward. I do know that by all accounts,the week ended in a draw,which in this case is much more than just a moral victory. Looking back at what transpired over the week, the fact that I am upright and breathing is much more than I could have expected.I have the rest of the day and all day tomorrow before I have to get back into the ring, where I will undoubtedly find myself once again on Monday morning.
I live to fight another day. That's what fighters do.They climb into the ring in search of another win, another victory,another championship.
And when all is said and done,I guess that's all I can hope for!

Shabbat shalom!