The first thing that catches my eye is the breath, because in a split‑second the body is still trying to decide which way to lean. If I could freeze that instant, I'd zero in on that inhale, that tiny shift in muscle tension, that silent cue that the body’s about to act. It’s the quiet before the flurry, the moment when everything else pauses. Once that’s steady, the rest of the contest feels like a path of frozen snowdrifts waiting to be stepped through.

Glad it landed, but remember, even a perfect inhale still hides the next breath—so keep watching the subtle shift, not just the pause itself. The arena will feel more like a familiar track than a new battle.