Wow. After only reading the first few paragraphs of the article, my mind was already racing back to my youth experience as a competitive chess player. It really struck a chord with me. Obviously my accomplishments were not even close to the magnitude of Fish, but I can relate intensely to the performance anxiety and urge to <i>quit</i> rather than compete. Wanting to choose flight over fight, so badly.<p>When I was a teenager, I became quite a good chess player for my age, culminating in me winning the U20 championship for my province (pop. ~13 million). I was at a level where I could compete well in adult tournaments, but I dreaded the youth tournaments simply because the expectation was generally that I would finish 1st and not lose (or even draw) a game. Anything less was a disappointment. This pressure did not come from my parents, they were very relaxed and did not push me at all. The expectation just built up over time, each 1st place finish built up more expectations for the next time. I remember getting very close to physically ill before many matches. Not wanting to eat anything. The overwhelming feeling of <i>relief</i> when it was all over.<p>The tournament where I won the provincial championship is one I will never forgot. It was a round-robin between 6 of the top players in the province. I was so nervous. Even though I was one of the lowest-ranked players in the group (I was tops in my region, but not the province), I couldn&#x27;t shake the expectations and nervousness. I lost my first two matches and felt devastated. I didn&#x27;t belong there. I had been a complete imposter up to that point. I had just been lucky. Those were my (ridiculous) thoughts. I had dinner with my dad and cried and cried and told him I wanted to make the 3 hour drive home and just forfeit my remaining matches. My parents never pushed me, but my dad <i>would not let me quit</i>. He talked me off the ledge. Through something that has always felt a bit like fate or divine, I won my remaining through matches and somehow the rest of the competitors managed to the perfect storm of results such that I finished tied for first. Miraculously I won the playoff for the championships.<p>I ended up leaving competitive chess when I was 18 to focus on my engineering studies. That&#x27;s the reason I tell myself and most people, anyway, but to be honest, part of it was being able to <i>quit</i> and leave that competitive world behind. I love competing and playing sports where I know expectations of me are reasonable or none at all, but in a competitive setting where the stakes are high, my body chooses flight over fight every time.<p>I&#x27;m also extremely grateful that this has not extended into my professional life. My mind does not view work, or competing professionally for business, the same as it does competing for trophies.