Being a professional athlete means I am constantly training, and growing up in a small town with barley any money means I had to get creative with where and when I was training.
There are countless stories I could tell you of a thousand thousand Sundays, Mondays, and all the rest, that I spent training in a strange spot, alone, getting weird looks from people, and even made fun of.
When people don't understand something, they don't like it. A lot of days, I was that thing, to misunderstood to be liked.
This isn't a sob story, I''m not trying to say ohh poor me it was such a tough time, I'm just trying to remember the good and the bad, and never forget where and what I came from.
Since this photo I have moved far away from that life, and now I train in state of the art facilities and live a life I truly love, but don't think for a second that I didn't love all those days spent being the thing misunderstood, and taking self portraits in the tennis court a town over on a Sunday afternoon while I trained for God knows what.