Just found this knocking around my work laptop, a piece written in 2014 for the SDSMA Newsletter. Handy as it saves me having to think anything up at this moment in time. I do have plenty to talk about but have a very mushy head so will wait until that’s cleared before getting my blogging head back on…..
There be Dragons
The Serengeti roars to the sound of the Lion, the vast Canadian forests echo to the growl of the Grizzly, on the Russian Steppes the howl of the wolf pack is a thing to chill the heart, and down in Moorside on a Wednesday night the darkness rings to the sound of Old Dragons crying out “oooh, ouch, yep, can feel that…”.
This final animalistic sound is the product of martial arts for the middle aged. I myself am included in this merry band of diehard’s that persist with the stretching, the warm ups, the drills, when sensible people our age sit in comfort in the wings while their young offspring perform the splits, run around with boundless energy and lash out those kicks at a height that is an impossible dream for the 40 something.
However, while we realise that we will never get to represent our country at a World or European championships, or train for the chance to get to an Olympics one day, the personal prizes that can be gained by taking up Martial Arts later in life are strangely even more rewarding than fame and glory.
I decided to make the first naive steps out onto the blue and red floor of the Dojo in order to encourage my tiny 6 year old daughter to get through those first few lessons. It is a scary place out there for a small person with all those shouty people running about in red pyjamas, so I felt she would need a familiar face next to her during those tentative first few lessons, albeit a face much redder and sweatier than she is used to. 12 months later and I am training at least 4 times a week, more if body and time allows, while the daughter has to be dragged along to her 2 classes a week and only on the promise of a slushy afterwards.
Those first months are very hard, much more so than your own preconceptions have you believe. I can remember joking with the wife when starting the first class in September 2013 that I’ll be a black belt by Christmas. What a fool.
At first Just getting the arms to fold the right way on a basic block is a total mind melt once you have been legging it round the hall for the 20 minute warm up, let alone trying to work out how to raise your leg more than 8 inches off the ground for a round house without rupturing yourself. And you drag yourself from the mats at the end of each class knowing full well that tomorrow is going to be painful to sit still let alone move around! But it very quickly becomes an addiction and you find yourself training with more gusto and greater eagerness week by week. The aches are pleasant ones, the pains seductive. You very quickly sign up for unlimited training, buy all your gear, start up the sparring classes, consider a competition ‘just for the experience, just a one off, you know, to try it out, won’t make a habit of it…’
You even start looking round the curtain at those BJJ boys, wondering if a cuddle on the floor with a huge bloke in black pyjamas is the next challenge to set yourself.
It doesn’t take long, almost unnoticed at first, and your fitness improves, your flexibility improves (a little) and your sharpness in training improves. The drills start to become instinctive and you know what block is coming up when the Korean term is shouted at you by the Sensei. It all starts getting a little easier. And then you grade, a nice new belt, and you have to start learning new moves, more steps of the first Kata. You spend weeks getting that right then you grade again and a whole new bunch of challenges arrive with that new coloured belt, a greater expectation to be getting it right. And the cycle continues, grade after grade, belt after belt.
Then you realise you still haven’t been doing it right, getting lazy? Getting sloppy? The Sensei will catch you out and expect you to fine tune all your basic kicks, blocks and punches, square the shoulders, lock the arm….and it goes on, challenge after challenge.
The more you train the more you appreciate just what it takes to become a black belt, the hours and hours of training that’s involved. And while it seems a very long way away, almost too far at times, you make a silent pledge to yourself to make it happen or die trying. My target is to be 1st Dan by the time I’m 50, knees permitting…
Hope I haven’t put anyone off, aiming for the opposite in fact and have placed my experience into words as a rallying call to all the mums and dads who have yet to try it. I would highly recommend it to all those parents who sit it out each week, it’s an excellent family bonding exercise with added health benefits. And besides, It’s a total buzz…
Jason, 44 years young, 9th Kyu (Orange)