Pinning down life: The prayer

Redshirt junior Lelund Weatherspoon takes down a Central Michigan opponent at 174 pounds at Hilton Coliseum Jan. 31. Weatherspoon would go on to win the match 8-3.

Sarah Muller

As Lelund Weatherspoon steps onto the mat before a match, he bends down and says a prayer he’s been saying since he started wrestling in the third grade, “Lord, give me the strength and protection.”

A prayer that was taught to him by a lifetime of faith that rooted through his parents.

Lelund’s parents bring two different perspectives to his life. Vincent, Lelund’s father, will speak to him before meets and make sure Lelund is completely motivated with his eyes on the prize. He calls his mother after to release the built-up tension from the match.

While his two biggest cheerleaders influence his performance, it’s God who gains Lelund’s praises. One of his favorite Bible verses remains inked on his chest today: Proverbs 3:6 states, “In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.”

God directed his path further into wrestling, creating an intensity in Lelund, he said. Being aggressive on the mat has formed a personality that doesn’t reflect his other wiser calm nature.

Off of the mat, he is an obtainable human being. Once his feet hit the rubber and foam, he evolves into an unleashed beast. 

Carrying two identities, Lelund faces the battle of placing his mind within the presence that is most appropriate for the moment. Over time he has learned to take advantage of this mental game by having it act like a switch.

“On the mat, I have to take myself to another place,” Lelund said. “That’s where the cocky Lelund comes in. I’m very selfish on the mat.”

A time comes when he must restrain the intensity and return to reality, which he does by taking an antidote of common conversation with his friends and family.

“I never knew how to separate the two. It just came naturally,” Lelund said of his alternate personalities.

The beast on the mat did not enter Lelund’s life until he was in seventh grade, when he started to collect undefeated seasons. The beast became hungry to win, and Lelund yearned to satiate it. 

When Lelund finishes a match, he realizes there’s always a more difficult battle to come, which makes him believe he has accomplished nothing in the long run. Bluntly, he never feels fulfilled.

The two personalities are separated by a fine line of cockiness and confidence. Lelund claims his everyday personality doesn’t need to prove itself, remaining confident. Yet, the beast needs success as if it were a drug.

“If winning isn’t everything, then why do they keep score?” Lelund said.

The strain between the two can at times be almost too much. However, relaxation comes to him when he realizes God’s power.

“I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for God,” Lelund said. “I feel like he has helped me separate the two people.”

Lelund explained that gifts such as stamina, moves and nutrition were given to him by God to help him succeed at his passion. If Lelund’s efforts dwindle, God will not reward him in the same ways.

But Lelund’s spiritual strength and promising wrestling career came to a sudden halt with one crushing snap.

In December of 2014, Lelund took the matt during the Cliff Keen Invitational in Las Vegas. Clear headed and ready, Lelund let the beast take over.

Lelund felt confident as the match began, for he had wrestled his opponent before. Pulling all of his signature moves, Lelund benefitted from knowing his opponent’s weaknesses. 

As the match progressed, Lelund was in the lead. That’s when ISU coach Kevin Jackson yelled out for Lelund to get his leg down.  

Both Lelund and his opponent descended onto the mat with Lelund’s leg extended and vulnerable to his opponent’s body slamming onto it, pushing Lelund’s knee upward and tearing his meniscus.

Lelund let out a scream and crumpled to his side. Both of the wrestlers were terrified of what this could mean for Lelund. Jackson ran up to Lelund in a panic.

Lelund could barely move his leg.

Even though Lelund thought he was out for the tournament, Jackson encouraged Lelund to push through the pain and finish the job he came to do. Lelund hobbled around, having doubt in his mind and fear in his heart, but trust in his coach.

The opponent tried to snatch the weak leg, but Lelund hopped out of his trap quickly in a miracle move and finished out the match with a win.

But the celebration was short lived, lasting from the mat to the trainer. 

After the tournament, Lelund discovered his tear. The doctor told him this injury would put him out for two to three weeks; however, the doctor explained if they found other issues with his knee, and they would need to clean it out and Lelund would be done for the season. 

Lelund felt his heart sink to his stomach.

“I’ve been training nonstop for this and this is what it comes down to: a stupid injury,” Lelund said.

He broke down to his mother, unsure of where to turn. She forced him to keep his head up and pray. Lelund felt a quiver of impatience, not desiring the answer he received from her and wanting a more substantial response.

“Last year I feel like he wasn’t putting it together correctly,” Doletta said. “I told him that there are certain things you have to do if you want God’s blessing.”

Before this moment, Lelund admits he had been insensitive and childish. Doletta reminded him that he was given his athletic abilities by God and that Lelund needed to praise him after wins, other than taking them for his own selfishness. 

“It was more about ‘me, me, me.’ I wasn’t listening to anybody and being arrogant for a while,” Lelund said.

Throughout Winter Break, Lelund built up strength and endurance through rehab and with support from his teammates. The hardest part of recovery wasn’t the physical pain. It was his inability to hit the mat with his teammates.

“My bros are out there battling,” Lelund said. “I’m not contributing to help them out.”

Come January 2015, he wrestled again, but over the course of the next few months, he began to feel his leg deteriorate. But it was not his knee. After the Big 12 Tournament in March 2015, his leg became dramatically worse.

He questioned all of his moves, made sure he stretched out and still couldn’t find the issue. Returning to the doctor, they identified the source of his pain: a hernia. Lelund decided to perform at the NCAA tournament and received surgery after.

“It was the most painful thing ever,” he said. “Try having a knife stab you in your leg … throughout the whole entire tournament.”

Lelund won a single match and lost two. He was heartbroken, feeling as if he had not accomplished the job at the NCAA tournament.

“After my match, I cried,” Lelund said. “It was the craziest thing. It all came and it all went in the blink of an eye.”

It was in that moment Lelund recognized his recklessness. He felt as if he had lost the Lelund he was trying to hold on to so dearly. He was losing and couldn’t figure out how to fix it. Turning to his mother again the night of the NCAA tournament, she returned to her suggestion from months before.

“She said, ‘You know what you’re doing wrong … why would God bless you if you’re not bettering yourself?’” Lelund said.

Lelund began stepping forward, not only trying to take responsibility in his faith but in his maturity. Lelund balanced his social, academic, spiritual and wrestling lives. He opened up conversation with his parents, began attending church more frequently and even attended one of his coach’s bible studies.

“Everything has to be in line. If one thing is [messed] up then everything is messed up,” Lelund quoted coach Jackson.

While Lelund said he’s confident in himself on and off the mat, he admits that he is still learning through his peers and loved ones such as those who lead him.

“I’m a Christian. I believe in God,” Jackson said. “I believe that there are more important things in life than just wrestling, but sometimes we get consumed with just wrestling.”