Category: Martial Arts

An 80-pound Oops To Complicate Life…

I’ve certainly never professed to being my own version of Mike Tyson, but decades of knuckle push-ups, striking exercises and frequent use of a makiwara have made it so I can pack a pretty decent punch. Not “break through concrete” kind of punch, but definitely a “fracture your bones or knock your shit out” kind of punch. Your body strength with strikes has always been a bit more of a forte for me than kicking. While I enjoy, employ and appreciate a good kick, I usually prefer punching. This fits well into my style’s generalized philosophy that if the opponent is outside arm’s reach, why would you strike? But that’s a whole different concept for another day. Today, we’re talking about my punches and the subsequent issue it caused me a little over a month ago. Quite a few years ago now, I invested in a standalone steel-framed stand and an 80-pound punching bag. I set all of it up on my garage, since our archaic garage isn’t big enough to house a modern vehicle and we mostly use it for storage. The garage has quickly become my refuge, allowing me space to enjoy the nice weather without being exposed to summer heat, puff on a nice cigar without disturbing my family and gives me an environment to burn through my inner rage on the bag without shaking the house’s foundations.

A little over a month ago, the weather started moving to a nicer temperature, which allowed me to move on a few different fitness steps. I cleaned up my bicycle, greased the chain and prepped my carry bag for what will hopefully be some reasonable mileage throughout the summer. But I also took the time to tidy the garage floor, clear away all the winter storage and clean the dust off of the punching bag. I started having my usual bag workouts out there a couple of times a week, which usually involves 30 minutes of 1-minute-punching-30-seconds-rest, followed by another 30 minutes but on the bike. It makes for a solid sweat, exhausts me nicely and allows me to burn off a lot of stress and pent up anger from the world outside. However, recently while working out on the bag, I may have allowed my zeal to take control and after a few focused strikes that really struck home (pun FULLY intended), the chain links holding the bag up onto the steel frame snapped, sending the bag tumbling to the floor.

My poor bag sitting on the floor… I know, I know, I heard it as soon as I said it…

Ignoring for a moment the fact that I don’t secure my frame to the ground, which would likely be helpful as it would keep it from sliding along the floor as you see in the photo, I was reasonably lucky that the bag simply fell straight down from the frame, the frame didn’t tip over or knock anything over and most importantly, nothing fell on me or injured me. As a side note, the bike got put back into place where you see it AFTER I stopped the workout because the bag fell. Now, I faced an interesting conundrum. Where to find a replacement for a double looped swivel link to replace the one that broke. Unfortunately, as I would come to learn, such a singular, specialized piece wasn’t so easy to find. I started with some local sporting goods stores where punching bags are sold. I don’t like leaving myself open to comments being interpreted as litigious, so I won’t name the stores, but I was somewhat surprised that none of these retail locations, which sell punching bags and related equipment, sold any replacement or spare parts of any of the hardware. Alright. Fair enough.

The broken link…

I had the option, of course, of purchasing an entirely new punching bag, which would include the swivel link I needed. But my current bag is still in good condition and will likely last another few years. My next step was to hit up some hardware stores. After all, what could be more basic than getting chain hardware from a hardware store, right? I stopped at two locations, one of which is a large, national chain that has orange as its primary color (wink, wink). I found similar chain links, but they had significantly low weight tolerance. We’re talking less than what the bag itself weighed. Factor in striking the bag repeatedly and sometimes having it swing in every which direction would mean this thing would barely last one workout. IF I was lucky… I don’t live in a MAJOR metropolitan center, but we are in a city of about 270,000 people. So, one would be inclined to think that there should be SOME availability of hardware like this. But nope, nope, triple nope… Couldn’t find it anywhere.

Finally, I resorted to my least favorite means of retail shopping: online. I’m not trying hard to age myself here, but I always prefer to do my shopping at an actual retail location. That way, I can see, touch and check exactly what I intend to purchase and I know exactly where to go if something needs to be returned, replaced or repaired. This is not always the case when one purchases online. But, it is 2026 and sometimes ya gotta do what ya gotta do, right? I found a swivel link on Amazon for $20. This thing is twice as thick as the previous one that came with the bag and has a weight capacity of (allegedly) 1,200 pounds. Perfect. Good price, good specs. That’ll do in a pinch. Add to cart and a week later, I got it in. I even had the foresight to order an extra one on the unlikely chance I managed to pop this one. With a little help, I managed to get the bag set back up and even followed it up with a family workout, using the bag, punch pad and makiwara as stations.

A punching bag is not only a good way to get some passive cardio in and burn off stress and frustration. I’ve long believed it’s a necessary training step for any martial artist who trains extensively alone. After all, you can only swing the brush through empty air for so long before you need to start touching paint to canvass. In the same vein, you can only do form and shadow boxing for so long before you need to strike an actual surface to start developing. And since I don’t currently train in any dojo, my sparring partners are few and far between. This makes the punching bag and striking pad all the more important. Plus, nothing makes you feel quite better than burning off steam on a bag after a long, hard day’s work. Totally meditative. I’m glad I got the bag repaired and cancel in action. It does humble one when considering the fact that given enough time and enough strikes, even steel gives way to flesh. Food for thought… ☯️

The Will Must Be As Strong As The Skill…

It’s a scenario that may be familiar to many… The alarm clock blares and shakes you out of what was likely a very deep sleep. You slap it silent with a deep tinge of annoyance. You stretch, roll and try to bring life into your still sleeping body. You throw your legs off the bed and sit there for a moment, wondering if you’ve lost your mind or whether you should just roll back under the covers for warmth and further slumber. As you finally will your body to move, you take the first tentative steps into the new day. The usual morning ablutions ensue, along with using the washroom and grabbing an energy drink to kick off your morning. The few sips of caffeine do nothing to clear the fog from your mind. You change into some fitness gear, still questioning whether you’re making the right choice or not. As you make your way to the workout area, you recognize that the rest of the household is still peacefully adrift in dreamland, a place you long to be at that moment. You stretch. You warm up. You break into some weight repetitions followed by your kata and some shadow sparring. You end it all with a quick, 30-minute run on the stationary bike. You finished in a hot, sweaty huff, no linger feelings the last vestiges of cold your body experienced by shedding your blankets for the world outside.

For some of you, this is pretty routine. It’s something you’ve trained yourself to do every morning and may have been doing so fairly consistently. For me, the concept of waking at an early hour to work out is difficult at best. For the most part, finding the time and opportunity to work out AFTER work is just as challenging. Once the work day is complete, I often face a plethora of different challenges that include but are not limited to, exhaustion from the work day, delays from stopping for groceries/errands, supper is ready when I walk into the door and the lethargy and full stomach that accompanies eating said supper. Pair this off with having a couple of young children in the house who are vying for daddy’s attention once he’s through the door, and my evenings tend to fill up pretty damn quickly. I often push against routine and make a point of hammering out an hour’s worth or exercise, but the consistently needed to maintain benefits (and karate skills) just isn’t there as it used to be. This presents challenges to someone who needs to work hard towards maintaining one’s health.

Working out first thing in the morning would seem to be the obvious option, although finding it obvious and willing one’s body to get up and comply are two entirely different things, hence the scenario described in the opening paragraph. While I’ve tried, on occasion, to get my crusty ass out of bed in the wee hours of the morning to exercise, various factors will come into play against that concept. Most nights, at least the ones where I’m not constantly shaken awake by PTSD nightmares, sees me having fluctuating blood sugars, frequent visits to the washroom to urinate, restless leg issues and the various pains and discomforts that come with almost four decades of full contact karate and operational policing. All of these things have a tendency to not only inhibit and prevent a proper night’s sleep. It usually leaves me in a state where, once the alarm rings, I find myself unable to will my body to respond or find the motivation to actually get up and get moving. In fact, the prospect of having an additional hour’s sleep, given all of the above, usually wins out.

With respect to this issue, I’m reminded of something Sensei told me about a year ago, while we were catching up. He commented on the fact that he wakes every morning, goes through his usual routine and then hits the road on his bicycle, working in a significant number of kilometers before returning home and facing his work day. Sensei has often asked himself if it was worth it to keep pushing in such a manner, and whether it wouldn’t just be better to sit back and relax during his morning. But then, he asks himself if he enjoys the freedom of movement, the continued mobility and the health he has maintained. The answer is always a resounding yes. He then asks himself if he wants to continue to maintain those standards to continue reaping those benefits. Another resounding yes faces him in the mirror. And for that reason, Sensei continues to push himself forward and workout first thing in the morning, regardless of fatigue, weather or how deeply the bed beckons him back to slumber.

Now granted, Sensei doesn’t have to contend with Type-1 Diabetes or many of the health-related obstacles I described earlier. But that’s the catch-22; BECAUSE of these health concerns, it would be in my best interest to wake, rise and sweat. Also because of those health concerns, I’m usually exhausted and without energy to engage in them. It makes for a conundrum as to how to address this properly. A bit of a chicken or the egg scenario. That being said, and I’ve written about this before, a lot of it is like becoming the little engine that could. Once you manage to get yourself up and moving and start doing it, the following morning seems just a LITTLE less torturous. This is because you’ve lost the element of unknown that comes with trying to get yourself started. Once you’ve overcome that first step and have actually hammered out a workout, the next morning may still suck. You may still want to just roll over and go back to sleep, but at least you’ve started. Once you’ve begun doing this regularly, your body will adjust and you’ll begin to feel that it isn’t such a big deal, getting out of bed while your family sleeps, breaking out a healthy sweat and then showering and getting ready for your overall day.

While using this early time in the morning to workout may seem tedious, there are several benefits to doing it this way that can be very beneficial for one’s health. In an online article posted by HealthLine.com entitled, “13 Benefits of Working Out In The Morning,” the positives of working out during the early hours can include facing fewer distractions while exercising, getting your workout in before the day’s heat kicks in, increased alertness and setting a positive tone for the rest of the day, better mood, focus and overall energy. There’s also some indication that earlier workout can help support weight loss and help with appetite control. Taylor morning workouts can also help with blood pressure AND blood sugar control, which is obviously an important factor for me. The article also suggest that it might help improve your sleep, citing, “After the morning workout, the participants spent more time in deep sleep and experienced fewer nighttime awakenings. It also took them less time to fall asleep.” Obviously, I would recommend reading the full article by clicking the link above, in order to get the fulsome information.

There are plenty of benefits to exercising early in the morning and many advantages, such as better time management, besides all the health perks. After all, you’d get all of those if you just exercised consistently, regardless of the time of day. But if you use this time where it may be quieter, less distractions, kids aren’t vying for your attention AND it gets you going and energized for the rest of the day, it’s a win-win. Pair that with the possibility that it will help with your overall sleep quality at night, that’s an easy recipe for better health. The challenge, at least for me, is getting past that first instance and actually getting my tired old ass out of bed long enough to get that first workout in. But once I can get myself started, being like the little engine that could or a rolling dynamo, it just might be the edge I need to have more energy, shed a few more pounds and have some will to do more with my evenings than binge-watch Netflix and fall asleep early. Who know? I may even end up encouraging some of my family members to rise with me and start early. All part of the journey towards better health and better Diabetes control. Food for thought… ☯️

There Is No Mold…

We often hear sayings like, “They sure broke the mold with this one…” It usually refers to someone who operates or behaves outside the norm or the typical social paradigm. But what’s interesting is that this can skid apply quite often to martial arts students. One of the most interesting things about training in a karate dojo is watching the progression and growth of the other students around you. Most people never take advantage of this, solely focused on developing and training themselves. But much like observing the world around you, watching how other train and progress can provide important insight, not only on how to train better but to recognize the very important aspect that everyone learns, develops and absorbs knowledge in different ways. This becomes especially important if one is to ever become the teacher. Not many do, but the practice of observing others can also be important when it comes to sparring or practicing one’s skills on the mat.

It’s also important to remember the old saying about never judging a book by its cover. This can often be learned the hard way. I have a couple of examples. I used to train with a younger man, a boy when he started, really. He was headstrong, full of the ol’ proverbial piss & vinegar. Plenty of attitude and personality, he started out being a bit of a thorn in everyone’s side. During his first couple of months of training, I remember thinking he wouldn’t progress far. While it’s normal for a student to lack discipline when first coming to the dojo, this kid exemplified everything one should NOT do while in the dojo. Farting in class, flirting with the female students and making sarcastic comments at the worst of times, I had assumed he would wash out within his first year. When he didn’t, I was absolutely certain he would wash out during the second year. However, someone started to happen during that time. He got stronger. He got faster. He began learning the skills he was being taught and putting them positively into practice.

As his training continued, he grew to become the dojo’s most senior student (second only to his instructor and myself, on the occasions I visited their dojo), beginning to teach others and even take over class when the sensei was absent. Everything that emerged was indicative that this student would grow and flourish and rank up quickly. There were discussions on the possibility that he would become an instructor and potentially have a dojo of his own someday. This is often the pipe dream of most senseis, since the idea is that eventually the student would go on to teach in a dojo of their own. But that isn’t what happened in this instance. Instead, things came to a head when the students attitude and personality took him one step too far in the wrong direction. On an unfortunate night when the students attitude was training at our main dojo, he was part of a circuit training we were doing where one of the stations involved sparring with Sensei (my instructor, not his from his own dojo).

During an unfortunate session where he was sparring with Sensei, he started to get a little cheeky and sarcastic, choosing to cross boundaries with a man who could literally wipe the floor with anyone within the dojo. Sensei kept warning him to mind his tongue and focus on the sparring. The students response was to try and take a cheap shot and make a snarky comment in the same instance. Sensei had had enough. He delivered a very precise front kick to the gut, which sent the students attitude reeling back and tumbled to the floor. He left the dojo, citing he couldn’t breathe. His own instructor, they had attended class with everyone that night, commented later that he had the breath knocked out of him and didn’t plan on coming back. What was sad to see, was that this student had a lot of promise, had progressed quite well and was on the fast-track to testing for his next belt grading. Unfortunately, instead of recognizing the lesson and the important aspect involving dojo etiquette, he chose to let his pride get to him and walked away.

The student continued to train off and on for about another year after that but soon let go of karate completely. He came to regret it, years later, as we’ve discussed the past and our training. He often wishes he had stuck with it. The parties involved, to this day, still argue who may have been at fault and who should have been the bigger person. Regardless, karate isn’t a knitting circle. There’s etiquette and protocol involved and one needs to learn these aspects as part of their training. Not always easy for someone with a “colorful” personality. There have been times throughout the years that I’ve offered to train with him. But he’s declined. Now, the student who showed promise has become an inactive lump. This is an example of how the student who shows promise ends up going down an incorrect path and leaves the art. Now, for an example that demonstrates a bit of the opposite.

Another student, whom I had the pleasure of training with and watching grow, was not what one would call a shining star. A bit on the quiet side, carrying a bit of added weight, he was the personification of the kind of student you see at the beginning of a feel-good martial arts movie; where the quiet, harassed youth becomes proficient and brings it back against his antagonists. But over his first year, it was hard to imagine there would ever be anything around his waist but white. Sloppy and inefficient, he showed aspects that the student from the other story did not. He showed up, he was disciplined, he learned the dojo etiquette and had great respect for the skills being taught to him. What he lacked in skill, he made up for with discipline, commitment and clear desire to learn. Even through some of the harshest drills I had put him through and some of the roughest sparring he dealt with, he just kept coming back. Unfortunately, I had achieved black belt and moved on to my policing career and left the area before I could have a fulsome view o said progress.

It wouldn’t be until a couple of years later, while visiting family and friends back home, that I would join a larger class and did a double take as a I realized that the student was wearing a green belt! Given my previous perceptions, I was pleasantly surprised, as much so as I was once I trained that night and saw his determination, increase in skills and discipline within the dojo. I was impressed with his growth and his ability to deliver the techniques that not so long prior, I had felt he may never master. It was humbling and impressive, all wrapped up in the student still being somewhat soft spoken and quiet. A perfect combination. Another three or four years down the road and I was further taken aback when I visited and saw a brown belt wrapped around his waist. To say I was proud and impressed is the least I could comment. The distinct irony with these two stories, is that the proficient student from the first story who quit, helped teach and coach the shy, timid student that didn’t seem to have the drive. And yet, the first one walked away while the second one stuck it out and progressed.

The lesson here, is simply what I noted at the start of the second paragraph. One should never judge a book by its cover. The same can be said of people. Did I imagine the first student would grow and progress to become a black belt and subsequently an instructor? Absolutely. Did that happen? No, an unfortunate byproduct of many different spawned, challenges, etc. Did I assume the second student would progress? I’m ashamed to say that I judged quite harshly in the beginning and assumed he would become one of the many hundred who joined, trained for a time then moved on. But he proved me wrong and climbed the grading system. It’s unclear to me where he’s at today or whether he still trains. But he reached a point where he could conceivably keep training on his own. This is particularly important, since Sensei has closed his dojo. But as I mentioned before, one of the most interesting things about the dojo environment is that you can simply never tell. Every person is different, with their own paths ahead. Not everyone is meant to be karateka. And some whom you believe may not be suited will often surprise you. That’s why it is so important, as part of your dojo training, to observe. Watch. Learn from others. This is just one small piece of the million-piece puzzle that is karate. Good for thought… ☯️

Does That Really Work…?

One of the questions I get asked most frequently when karate comes into the conversation is, “Does that stuff really work, though? Like, push come to shove and in a real fight, does karate really provide you any benefit or advantage?” The easy answer is yes, yes it does. The explanation behind it is a little more in-depth and significant and may not be able to be covered in one post. But there are some integral differences between what you may have seen on screen (movies & television), what you may have seen in the dojo and what actually happens in the street. And that’s what I’m going to try to cover in today’s post. Not so much the question of whether it works or not. Rather, the differences between environments and why they matter. AND why you should focus on continued training to bridge those environments. But before I branch off on too many tangents, let’s get on with it, shall we?

Let’s start with the portrayals of fights on the big or small screen. Now, I’ve written entire posts about this in the past, and there’s nothing that irks me more than when someone asks me if I’m as good as any given action star that they may have seen in the latest flick. And don’t get me wrong; I LOVE a good action movie and despite knowing the ins and outs of empty hand combat, I enjoy the fights and the action scenes as much as the next person. However… What’s important to bear in mind is that the people you see portrayed on the screen, engaged in beating the living shit out of each other, are actors, not fighters. And that twenty minute fight sequence you just wet yourself over was likely filmed over weeks, not minutes. In reality, such a fight would rarely, if ever, happen. The reason for this is quite simple; the human body can’t take it. The average real fight that takes place on the street will usually last somewhere between two to ten minutes. That’s it. By that point, one of two things will happen. Either one of the combatants will take a solid punch to the head or some other soft area, which will end the fight. OR, they’ll end up on the ground, grappling and struggling with each and both combatants will lose steam.

One can hardly blame the film industry for this approach. After all, it would be a big middle finger to the audience if, after sitting through a two-hour long film and waiting for the climactic fight at the end, the protagonist and their opponent fight for two movies and either get knocked out or gas out and give up. It would rather spoil the movie, right? It sure would, but the unfortunate after effect if that people believe that shit. Most folks genuinely believe that a trained fighter can hammer through and fight full tilt against an opponent, often a superior one in the movies, for thirty to forty minutes and actually come out successful. There are some exceptions, where organized fights like boxing will last an hour. But this is usually in digestible two to three minute rounds with breaks in between. And even then, fighters train EXTENSIVELY to last for this periods. I think it was Mickey in the Rocky movies who explained it best. I believe he said, “for a 45-minute fight, he has to train for 45,000 minutes.” This is just to build up the stamina and endurance to last for those multiple rounds. And you get the benefit of sitting, resting, sipping water and being tended to. None of those advantages will exist in the street.

Next, let’s discuss the dojo. Now, here’s where I get a little more particular, because I’ve spent the majority of my life (more than 75% at this point) training in various dojos and formal training halls. A dojo has structure, discipline and tradition. From the moment you step into the dojo, it all hits you. You must remove your shoes and bow as you enter. You may not step on or off the mats without your Sensei’s permission. Stand in a straight line at attention. No food or drink in the dojo. Obey all instructions and do as I say, not as I do, are common elements in most traditional dojos. When casual passerby’s are watching a class train in the dojo, they’ll often see drills, katas and structure where it would be reasonable to ASSUME that none of it would apply in a real fight. Guess what? They’re right… I should probably explain that a little bit better. For the most part and for the majority of what you may see in the dojo on any given night, all of those formalized movements and exercises are intended to develop structure, framework and muscle memory.

Generally speaking, the majority of this training is meant to build the foundation on which one’s martial arts prowess will flourish. what that means is, you likely wouldn’t use a particular stance you see in a kata during a real fight. But all of those steps and stances develop your legs and techniques to allow the proper flow of what you WOULD end up doing in order to defend yourself. While some of it may look strange and possibly useless when watching it, every step, every movement and every technique taught in the dojo is just one more piece of the overall puzzle needed to develop one’s martial arts skills. There are some aspects of the stamina training I referenced higher up. If you don’t believe me, you may want to watch when a dojo has their students perched on their knuckles for 30 minutes or in a horse stance for just as long. OR when we’d spend almost an hour simply repeating the same technique, over and over, in order to ensure it was embedded into our muscle memory.

It’s safe to say that the dojo takes a significantly indirect approach towards ensuring the practitioner can develop and if necessary, use their skills to defend themselves or others. It’s not always neat or clean, and it almost certainly takes years, but the result is being functionally capable of offering some sort big defense against an opponent, when necessary. For myself specifically, I have never competed. Sensei didn’t believe in contrition or training for points. But I can tell you that in real life and on several occasions, both on the job and in my personal life, karate was leaned on to defend myself and others. I have a singular benefit of saying that I have never been overwhelmed by an opponent and I have my extensive training to thank for that. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had the crap kicked out of me, I’ve had sprains and fractured ribs, even. Karate doesn’t make you indestructible, nor does it shield you from injury completely. The reality is simply this; if you fight, you’ll likely get hurt. How hurt you get will depend on how hard you train.

So, does martial arts work? Absolutely. Can one become proficient and carry it with them for the rest of their lives to defend themselves? Oh, fuck yeah! But how effective it’ll be will depend on how hard you train, how much you invest of yourself in it and how well you maintain yourself. This will mark the difference between walking away relatively injury-free, or suffering severe injuries. And that raises a good point. It may sound a little cliche, but a traditionally trained martial artist usually won’t WANT to fight. While some opponents will often view this as a sign of weakness or unwillingness to fight, most karateka simply acknowledge that unless there is no other choice, bringing significant injury to someone else, even if they’re an opponent, isn’t worth it. And if possible, it’s always better to walk away. Like any other weapon, just because you’re packin’ doesn’t mean you’ll pull it at every opportunity. Karate is no different. Food for thought… ☯️

My Black Belt Is Not For You…

I’ve never been much of a sports guy, which has surprised most folks through the years by even more so when it comes up that I study the martial arts. “So, you ARE into sports…” No… No, I’m really not. But the distinction between martial arts and sports is a discussion for a different day. At this point in my life, I’m slowly starting to forget a time when I didn’t study karate and use it in my daily life in some way, shape or form. Karate, along with its consistent training and lessons, has sustained my health, made my Type-1 Diabetes more manageable and allowed me to defend myself and others, both in my personal and professional life, more times than I can measure. But the irony, especially when my studies come up in conversation, is that there’s really only one aspect that people always seem to focus on; my belt. For the most part, the same question is posed by everyone I cross paths with, even if it’s just conversation. “Oh, so, are you a black belt?”

A karate black belt is a quasi-magical thing for non-practitioners. For the most part, they believe that a black belt is the pinnacle of mastery, the top level, the “be-all-and-end-all” of karate. In truth, a black belt is really only just the beginning. The many, many years of training that preceded achieving black belt level was really just the beginning. And don’t kid yourself; it should take many, many years. And testing for your shodan is traditionally, a student’s way to formally ask their Sensei to teach them karate. But when people hear or know you have one, they assume you’re deadly, you’re a master at your respective style and that no one should rock your proverbial boat, for fear of gettin’ an ass whoopin’. I mean, the latter could have some element of truth, I suppose, if one has little or poor control over their temper. But again, this is a separate issue.

But most of that is smoke and mirrors. For the most part, and even if you train traditionally and hard, there will gaps. An important lesson to life, in order to remain humble AND because it could potentially save your life is a self-defense scenario, is that there’s will always be someone with more skill, more speed, more strength… The key is to be the best YOU can be, and continue to build upon yourself and improve. Your progress is no one else’s but your own, and holding a standard based on to color of your belt may hinder you more than help. For myself, promoting to black belt was one of the best days of my life. But it would prove to be just the first step in the next phase of my martial arts training. Many aspects of my training quickly turned to the philosophical, examined the why, almost as much as the how. I began looking at why we do techniques the way we do and learning how to impart that development on others, as opposed to simply mirroring what’s been done by Sensei for all the years that preceded my black belt.

Becoming a black belt is about more than status, prestige and the various “oohs” and “ahhs” you may get from folks. It’s about genuinely learning the art, researching the background, the material and the specifics behind how things were developed and why they continue to be used in the manner they are. The history of one’s style and how it came about, is at least as important as your ability to throw a punch or block a kick (although by black belt, you won’t last long if you can’t do those particular things). And in truth, I’ve seen and trained with many people who wore a black belt who could barely keep up or hold their own. And that’s kind of the key takeaway and the point of this post. It’s rarely about the rank. It’s almost always unilaterally about the drive and skill you develop. Unless you’re in a damn McDojo and you’re looking at someone who’s trained for two or three years and already has shodan around their waist.

People love the concept of a black belt and usually see it as the achievement to strive for. This is true of non-practitioners and practitioners alike. But the reality is much more difficult to accept. The belt around your waist says nothing of what your actual skill level is. Do you know what does? YOUR ACTUAL SKILL LEVEL!!! You, and only you, know how your training is going, what level you’re at and what improvements you need. And no doubt your Sensei. They should likely know what level you’re at, too. But when someone expresses fascination at your black belt, or asks how good you are, it’s important not to feed the perception. Typically, when I’ve been told comments like “Wow, you must be pretty good, huh?” Or, “You’ve been training that long? You must definitely be a black belt…” My usual response will simply be that I am what I am, and I am only as good or skilled as I will allow myself to be.

And that’s the big secret behind karate. It’s not about the specific style or what rank you hold. It’s about how hard you work, how much of your blood, sweat and tears you put into it, and how hard you’re willing to push yourself in order to keep moving forward. One’s martial arts journey is a never-ending one. As long as your lungs still draw breath, the learning isn’t over. So, don’t gush over someone being a black belt. For all you know, their belt may mean nothing, they may lack the skill that movies and mainstream media have suggested that rank carries, or they may have bought the belt at the thirst store and have no training at all. Smoke and mirrors. If you want to know whether a practitioner, regardless of rank, has any reasonable skill, talk to them. Ask them about their teaming, their background, their techniques. The knowledge and confidence with which they discuss it will tell you far more than a colored piece of cotton across one’s mid-section. Am I proud to be a black belt? In some ways. But mostly, I’m humbled that I was able to push myself and make it to this point through. My own efforts. My karate is my karate, and will never change. The color of the belt means little. And at the end of the day, the belt is really just there to hold your gi in place. Good for thought…☯️

Tighten Those Belts, But Wash ‘Em First…

You know, I’ve been doing karate for over 35 years at this point, and have trained in more dojos and locations than I can recall. I’ve seen some really good clubs and met some really solid people. I’ve also been exposed to the majority of cliches that we see in modern martial arts. McDojos, inexperienced senseis, bullies and worst of all, the wayward student who walks out of his dojo and opens his own school without his Sensei’s consent. Brutal. My point is, like every other thing one can join, they come in all shapes, sizes and philosophies. I’ve written on occasion, about the importance of cleanliness with gym equipment and dojo gear. Most people don’t think to clean things like punch mitts, sparring gloves and pads, but everything that can be touched, should be cleaned. This includes a very overlooked item in the karateka’s bag; the karate belt.

I’ve been seeing a lot of online articles about one’s belt, and whether it should be cleaned or not. I’m not clear on why this has come up so much or why it suddenly appears to be the flavor of the day, but the reality is that I’ve now seen it on four different pages through social media, from different sources. Most people recognize the need to wash one’s gi after each use. Granted, I’ve trained with a lot of people who would only wash their uniforms once a week, which often led to some awkward training when you got paired up with them. Nothing like that mildewy scent to distract you enough to let that technique slip through! Hey, maybe that’s why he did it! But I digress… We’re talking about belts, here…

The karate belt, or obi, as it’s sometimes called, is a thick belt that wraps around the practitioner’s gi to help keep their top closed and properly cinched to the body. At some point, it also began being used to signify rank within the dojo, with black being the most recognized rank to most outside folks. This started with the styles that were on mainland Japan. If you look at some of the older, historical photos of retaining in Okinawa, it was usually bare-chested, with shorts or short pants. But in modern times, the belt has become something of an icon in martial arts circles, not only serving the expected function of holding your gi closed, but slid to signify rank, seniority and most cases, experience. I say most cases for a reason, but I won’t get into that here, since it’ll be a topic for a different post.

Most karate belt are made of the same durable, stitched cotton materials that the practitioner’s gi is made from. That being said, some styles and brands have them made from different materials like polyester or, believe or not, silk or satin. I can’t imagine wearing a silk belt. Can you imagine??? How would that fuckin’ thing eve stay tied? Wouldn’t it slip free after a bit of movement? I wouldn’t know because I’ve never worn one made of silk and I don’t plan to start. My point is, they can be made of different materials but are generally made from cotton. Moving on. The issue with the belt, and if the wearer is training the way they should, is the tightness around the waist means the belt is in prime position to be exposed to some of that lovely back sweat that comes dripping down the nape of your back during heavy workouts. Eventually, the belt will soak this sweat up and it’ll dry on there.

Generally speaking, cotton garments are great for soaking up sweat and allowing your skin to breathe. This is why most trainers will advise their clients who wear moisture-wicking materials or get-fit garments to wear a cotton t-shirt over it, if they’re jogging or cycling outdoors. This is so that the shirt can absorb the expelled sweat, instead of letting it linger on the garment. One does not have this benefit with a karate belt. As I mentioned in the opening paragraph, I’ve written posts in the past about cleanliness, and this has included the washing of one’s gi. Because it’s usually made of cotton, the gi soaks up all the blood, sweat and tears (usually literally) that are shed during the two-hour workout in the dojo (yes, class should be at least two hours). If allowed to sit and dry, eventually and after only a few wearings, your gi will start to smell like that squirrel that fell into your rain barrel and drowned over the summer. This is why it’s important to keep your gi washed and clean between classes, to prevent ruining it, prevent the smell and prevent the inevitable rash you’ll give yourself from wearing something riddled with bacteria.

It’s often boggled my mind how most practitioners never think to wash their belts. This is something that’s come up in quite a few social media posts lately, on some of the karate pages I subscribe to. Most traditional practitioners have heard the story or have followed the belief that you start with a white belt and as it taints and gets dirtier through the blood and sweat, it eventually darkens to a blend belt, signifying the wearer’s experience and knowledge. First of all, not only is that completely fuckin’ disgusting, if you wear a white belt through filth long enough for it to turn black, but it’s also somewhat incorrect. When I was a white belt starting out, I had asked my Sensei at one point if I could just drop my belt into the washer with my gi. I got a slightly different iteration on the story I mention here, but the message was simple: don’t wash your belt. As a result, my original white belt (which I do still have despite almost 40 years passing) is a patchwork of off-white and slightly dingy yellows. While it shows the hard work and efforts I’ve put into my karate training, it’s gross to look at, even now, and still carries a musty odor that no wearable garment should carry.

Once I graduated to green belt and I noticed the green starting to shift colors, I changed up my practice a bit. While I didn’t want to chance laundering a green belt with a white gi for fear of the color running, I also had to contend with the rubberized electrical tape Sensei would use to signify stripes on one’s belt. This meant that tossing the belt in the washing machine would be a no-go, since it would probably cause the tape to peel off. As a result, I got into the habit where at least once a week, I would use a small container of cool water would. Touch of laundry detergent, and I would hand wash my belt using a small nail brush. The size of the nail brush made it ideal to scrub along the length of the belt. The cool water helped maintain the color and the laundry detergent helped wash it out. While somewhat faded from the years, my green belt is in a much better shape than my white belt. I did the same for my brown and black belts, respectively.

One of the social media posts that I read referenced visiting Okinawa, and how the karate practitioners there find it puzzling that Western practitioners don’t wash their belts. Having visited some dojos in Okinawa, I can reflect that comment in saying they don’t believe in the concept of not washing the belt. So, despite the stories, legends or doctrine of your specific dojo, you SHOULD be maintaining trooper cleanliness and hygiene practices and wash your belts regularly, whether by hand or otherwise. It’ll preserve the state of the belt and prevent bacteria, rashes on skin, and the unpleasant odor that accompanies ANY training equipment that doesn’t get washed and/or sanitized. Your karate belt is included in that. The only aspect I agree with and am on board with, is that most senior practitioners wear their black belt until it basically falls of them. Different styles will have different approaches, but my style is consistent in this practice. My black belt shows some of the wear and tear markings of years of training. Those are my badges of honor and I would replace them. Some folks will obtain a new belt every few years as the previous one starts to wear. That’s a preference.

At the end of the day and what the main message to this post is all about, is make sure that you help keep yourself in good health by observing good cleanliness and hygiene practices with ALL of your training equipment, including your belt. It’s part of the process, it’s on you and others will inevitably notice if you’re unclean. Especially in an environment like a martial arts dojo. And it really sucks to train and work so hard at developing and bettering yourself, only to have you get a rash, infection or be shunned where no one wants to train with you because you smell like a mildewy clothes hamper. Not a good look. So wash up, clean and keep yourself healthy. Light knows that during the second hour, the sweat is already flowing enough without your added funk getting into the mix. Food for thought… ☯️

The Way Of The Jumping Idiot…

I haven’t written a post in a couple of weeks now, and I thought I should get off my ass and do something about. By virtue of this, I wanted to touch on something that I saw over the weekend as I was watching something on a streaming service that relates to the martial arts. As I’ve written in the past, much of what we see in shows and movies are exaggerated or unrealistic, which makes sense, right? I mean, it’s a show! It’s meant to entertain, not be realistic. But there are some things that are quasi-factual, even in fictional environments. Whilst some shows that feature karate may be unrealistic with their approach in how many times someone can get kicked or struck and keep on fighting, a lot of the training and methodology can be somewhat realistic. But in the real world, there are styles and training methods that are a bit over the top and seem unrealistic and useless in a fight. And that’s where some of the confusion comes in.

One good example of this is Tae Kwon Do. For those of you who may not know, Tae Kwon Do is a Korean style of empty hand fighting that focuses on the use of the feet as its primary attack method. Known for its flowery, complicated kicks, you’ll often see demonstration of practitioners who are kicking and breaking boards that are held quite high above the average adult’s head. Developed about 80 years ago, Tae Kwon Do was created using basics from karate and Chinese martial arts, although like every other style, there are likely those who practice it that would have slightly different origins for it. In looking at Tae Kwon Do, one needs to ask oneself, what is the value or the purpose of flying through the air and kicking a board that’s ten feet up from the ground? Any traditional martial artist would likely agree that t3here would be little or no application for this technique in an actual fight, right? And just remember that we’re not discussing athletic prowess here; we’re strictly discussing practicality of the technique.

This is only one example of this phenomenon. Another good one would be Brazilian Capoeira, which blends a combination of dance, acrobatics and kicking techniques. While it looks impressive on its face, the waste of time and energy in the constant movement tends to boggle my mind. This obviously makes sense when one considers that I’ve spent the majority of my life studying a small circle style of karate that focuses on direct strikes and conservation of movement. I’ve been trained to understand that if the opponent is not within reach of my foot or fist, there’s little point in striking or attempting to. There are instances where I’ll cross small distances but certainly nothing extreme like other styles. Shotokan, for example, will almost cross half the dojo in executing a technique. All of this made me extremely judgmental when I was younger, where a loyalty to my style mixed with youthful ignorance caused me to judge these styles as opposed to studying and understanding them to get clarity. Luckily, that veil lifted years ago and I understand the concept and origins of these other styles much better now, and can accept them in the form that they are studied. While I may not favor Tae Kwon Do as a self-defense style, I’ve fought against some practitioners and I sure wouldn’t want to fight one in the street.

The point to this post, and it won’t necessarily be a long one, is that different styles will have different methods of training and for different reasons. Depending on what you’re trying to accomplish, different styles will get you there in different ways. For myself, my focus has always been defending myself and others, maintain my health and fitness AND helping to control my blood sugars and Diabetes. Effectively in that order. I don’t need to spin through the air or have both my feet leave the ground in order to do that. One also needs to recognize the inherent risk that comes with training and practicing this way. When you spin kick in such a way that both feet leave the ground, you leave yourself extremely vulnerable. If that kick doesn’t land or they manage to strike you while you’re airborne, the level of damage can be catastrophic. Even high kicks, where the practitioner is kicking to the head or something of the like, is very risky and opens up the inner thigh and groin areas to potential attacks that are otherwise un-blockable while you’re doing the splints in mid-air.

Everyone’s style and perspective are different. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve stayed away from judging other styles based on what they’re doing and how they demonstrate their training. But I’ve also grown to assess and analyze fighting styles to determine what I believe would be most effective. From the athletic prowess side of things, many of these styles are quite challenging and will help you develop and get in shape. From a practicality standpoint, they may not be so great at mainstream self-defense. That being said, ever try getting kicked in the head by a Tae Kwon Do practitioner’s spinning kick? That shit fuckin’ hurts! I don’t recommend it. As I’ve often written in the past, it becomes critical that when looking for a dojo to train with, you take your time, watch what they do, how they do it and hold it up against what it is you’re trying to do. Looking to commit yourself to something and just train for the exercise? Most of this likely won’t matter. But if you’re training for a specific reason, the details matter. And martial arts can never take a cookie cutter approach. What works for one may not work for another. Food for thought… ☯️

“One More Round…”

The title is an excerpt from Rocky V, where the main character, tired and beaten down by a younger opponent, stands up one more time and asks him for “one more round.” Widely panned by audiences and critics alike, I never really understood all the hate Rocky V received and in some cases, still receives. While I agree that it wasn’t the greatest out of the series of movies, it still had a reasonable storyline and some decent fight scenes. What struck the biggest chord for me in watching this movie, was how Rocky and his family basically came full circle; having gained riches through being a world boxing heavyweight champion to losing everything and moving back to the rough streets of Philadelphia where he got his beginnings. It’s an important life lesson and certainly one that wasn’t lost on me in my youth.

What’s even more extreme, is Rocky Balboa, a stand-alone movie released in 2006 that sees an aged Rocky living a life without his beloved Adrian and running a small bistro. Because of the rising unpopularity of the current reigning champ, an exhibition fight is set up between the champ and Rocky himself, bringing him out of retirement for one final foray in the ring. What’s a bit difficult in watching this movie is recognizing an aged Rocky, in his 60’s, going to town training like he did in the original Rocky movies. For old dogs like myself, it’s reminiscent of the old training montages you’d see in the original Rocky films; solid training music, working out, sweating, putting in a maximum effort to put on the best show for the crowd. It’s definitely motivational albeit a tad unrealistic. It reminds me of the recent fight between Mike Tyson and Jake Paul. Although the fight in Rocky Balboa showed significantly more substance and heart than the Tyson vs. Paul fight did.

The point to all of this and where I’m going with this post, is that much like the alpha lion stepping back from the pride so a new alpha can take the lead, there comes a time when one begins to realize that the fight is over. That the long hours of hard training and combining martial arts into one’s daily routines for maximum training and efficiency have started to pass. And eventually, one needs to recognize that there can’t always be “just one more fight.” Eventually, one needs to recognize that the last fight really was just that; the last. That’s probably the biggest and most difficult obstacle for a martial artist to face; realizing that one’s karate journey isn’t at an end but needs to significantly change to accommodate the needs of the practitioner. This recognition doesn’t come easily and is often only learned through hardship and injury.

My experience came rather painfully and roughly about three years ago. Granted, at the time, I weighed nearly 30 pounds more than I do now, and my gut definitely played a role in my speed and ability to execute techniques. I had joined a local karate dojo in the hopes of training in the dojo environment and connect with some like-minded practitioners. And with this particular dojo, I found just that. It’s without a doubt the only dojo that I found that managed to show as much interest in my style as I had in theirs. I was treated like a student as opposed to an invitee, and the instructors had as many questions for me as I had for them. It was almost symbiotic, from the karate standpoint, and I grew to enjoy training. But i did notice that it was difficult for me to keep up. Given that we were at the tail end of the COVID pandemic, it was also very difficult to breathe, since all the practitioners were required to wear face masks WHILE training. But I was getting a strong sweat going, working out and learning some new forms. I was in glory. Until I wasn’t.

I definitely started to notice that recovery time took a lot longer. I was tired and slept more during my down time and I started having difficulty finding the motivation to attend the dojo. I kept going, because I’ve been trained never to quit or give up. But I’d be lying if I said things got EASIER, the way they usually would or should. Rather, they started to get harder and more exhausting. As a result, I allowed my anger at the situation to fuel my motivation and keep pushing me harder. The penultimate event that changed my way of thinking came on a Sunday, of all things, on a day when we usually didn’t have classes. We had a weekend seminar, with several high-ranking instructors visiting the dojo to put on the seminar and provide instruction. Starting on the Saturday, it was a wonderful event. Everyone worked out hard, broke a solid sweat and enjoyed themselves. On the Sunday, we started the morning out with another workout and some instruction. Then, came the sparring…

As part of an instructional exercise, the lead instructor had two students face off within a ring. They would spar until the instructor either called one of them out, or one of the two managed to land a strike, which would eliminate the one who got struck. Then, a fresh opponent jumped in. In order to understand why this activity was a bit of an issue for someone like me, you need to understand my mindset. In my head, all the knowledge is still there. The techniques, training and muscle memory are all just as intact as the first year I trained in a dojo. As a result, and much like the aged dog growling in the corner, I’m often of the opinion that I can still respond and move just as fast as I used to. I would be proven quite wrong. I was called into the ring and sparred against my first opponent. Got him out. Second opponent, out. Third opponent? Fuckin’ out… I was on fire and became overconfident, feeling I still “had it” and couldn’t be topped. Then, one of my counterparts (in rank and experience) stepped into the ring next and everything went to shit.

While engaged in a rather spirited exchange back and forth, I overconfidently threw a left-hand hook punch that should have landed. However, my opponent ducked, redirected the hook punch and responded with a very well-placed uppercut punch straight into the lift side of my rib cage. An explosion of lightning burst from behind my eyes and my left side seized from immediate pain. Mercifully, the match was called and I stepped out, since the technique landed against me. I managed to maintain my composure long enough to walk to the edge of the circle and kneel on the floor. Once my body rested downward, the pain became aggravated, since the weight of my body was now adding stress to the injury. I realized at that point that something was very, very wrong. A doctor’s visit and some x-rays later, and I had three fractured ribs. I was on pain killers for quite some time after that.

The experience taught me several important lessons for the future. Not least of which included that the time had come for me to start slowing down and recognizing that fighting someone the same way I did twenty years ago wasn’t likely. And that in any fighting art, overconfidence and vanity can get you injured, or worse. It took several weeks and many pain-filled sleepless nights for the ribs to mend and the muscle wall to heal. After that, I made the conscious decision to continue my training in the privacy of my home. Part realization, part embarrassment, my karate journey has been a solitary one, ever since. This doesn’t mean I won’t still train with others. It simply means that I’m not trying to pretend I’m still a 23-year old black belt who is still in his prime. And that’s the important key to all this. I’ll never stop training. Martial arts is a life-long journey. But the way I started that journey can’t be the same way it ends. I’m getting older. My body is changing. And some of the amazing things I could do with karate decades ago are not the same things I can do now. And we all get there. Realizing is just one important aspect of the journey. An important piece of the puzzle. Food for thought… ☯️

Weapons of Opportunity

My specific style of karate has never focused much on weapons. After all, karatedo means “way of the empty hand,” not “way of the weapon.” But there’s no argument, from my perspective, that learning and gaining proficiency with some form of weapon is not only important and a valuable addition to one’s overall self-defense toolkit but has the potential to be life-saving. Generally speaking and for the most part, martial arts will focus on manufactured weapons that either provide blunt impact or a cutting edge. Prominent examples would include kali sticks or Bo staffs for the former and swords, spears and knives for the latter. There would be no measurable way to start going through all of the weaponry associated with the various styles of martial arts in one post. I’m sure they number in the thousands and that’s likely a conservative estimate. Ever hear of a weapon called the manriki-gusari? I guarantee you’ve likely seen one in comic books, movies or martial arts shows and didn’t even know that’s what it was. My point is, there are tons of weapons out there that allow for comprehensive and formal training with specific weapons.

During my formative years in karate, I began to recognize the need to have some training in something else. These days, most martial artists I speak with tend to supplement themselves with the opposite of their home style. Practicing a striking art? Maybe take some grappling or throwing, like JiuJitsu or Judo. Already engage in one of those grappling arts? Maybe supplement with some striking art, or kick boxing. It allows one to become a well-rounded practitioner who is prepared for the eventualities of the fight falling to the ground or already being there and needing to strike the opponent to end the threat. And that last part is an important takeaway; end the threat. At the end of the day and for a genuine practitioner of the art, we’ll never be the ones to start the fight. But you’d better damn well believe that we’ll be the ones who will end it. And that becomes an important detail. So, what if you have multiple opponents and you know you’ll be overwhelmed? What do you do now? Roll over and just let it happen? Accept one’s fate? Yeah, screw that noise.

In such a scenario, I would find something, anything, that would allow me to gain a martial edge over the opposition. If I weren’t already in possession of a weapon, I would find a broom stick, a pocket knife, a broken tree branch… Anything that would allow me to even the playing field against multiple opponents OR an opponent who has a weapon themselves. Ever try to defend yourself bare-handed against an armed opponent? We train for it. It’s possible. But it’s also sketch as hell and there’s no guarantee you’ll be successful. If you’re lucky and manage to defend yourself, good for you. But all it would take is one lucky shot, whether with a stick or an edged weapon, for your opponent to put you down and then you’re completely at their mercy. Not a position I’d want to be in. I prefer to be prepared. And a big part of the preparation is ensuring you have some familiarity with a weapon.

Most of the techniques in martial arts is rooted muscle memory. The concept of practicing and drilling a technique into one’s mind so completely that it can be recalled and executed by the body without thought or hesitation. This is one of the many reasons why you’ll see karateka practicing the same technique dozens and even hundreds of times before moving on to something else. If someone attacks me on the fly, my body will instinctively react, block and strike. It’s been drilled into my very soul and over the years, I’ve never really been caught completely unaware as a result. Setting aside the possibility of unwanted hyper-vigilance, this is an important approach to whatever weapons you choose to train with. The idea isn’t to get caught in a scenario where you suddenly find your fate dependent on the use of a club or stick; rather, ensuring you have familiarity with the feel, reach and possibilities of any given weapon is what will make the difference.

In the dojo, we frequently trained with knives, practicing certain blocks in order to avoid getting cut. Outside of that, we never really focused on weapons to any extreme, much as I indicated in the opening paragraph of this post. There is one notable, unspoken weapon not opportunity that I’ve trained with independently over the decades; the BELT. No, that isn’t a typo. A belt makes an effective weapon, both for blocking and in some instances, striking. Let’s start with IN the dojo. Your belt, or obi (depending on your style), can be an effective tool for blocking and diverting your opponent. Usually made of thick, durable cotton-blend materials with deep stitching, using your belt to block an opponent’s incoming attack, followed by grappling and entangling the opponent’s limbs, the karate belt is an unspoken and unhandled hero of the unarmed. And this practice can be extended to many household items that have the same functionality. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve had my sons come “play” while I’m doing dishes and grappled my sons’ wrists using the dish towel. All in good fun, of course but it keeps me in practice.

Outside the dojo, one’s everyday leather belt is even more effective. Usually containing a buckle or fastener made of a metallic compound, swinging the belt and having it strike with the metallic end is not only a significant deterrent to an oncoming opponent but is also an effective enough striking tool to possibly end the threat. Able to block and deflect attacks in the same way as your karate belt, you also have option to wrap the belt around your knuckle and wrists to help protect them during hands strikes. And let’s not forget the potential for whipping. As they used to say in the old days, nothing deters a threat like a good ol’ fashion “whoopin’.” It’s kind of like snapping a wet towel. You ever get struck by the crack of a whipping belt. That shit hurts like hell. There are some styles and schools out there that focus on training and practicing belt techniques and I consider it to be one of the most underused methods of self-defense.

All and all, while this post rather feels a bit like it’s all over the place, the important takeaway here is that there’s plenty of opportunity to increase your self-defense toolkit by indulging in methods that aren’t empty-handed. Protecting oneself and others is key, and it would be a shame if one were unable to do that because they were focused and limited on only one means and one style. Yes, one should dedicate themselves to one parent style as “their” style. I’ll be a practitioner of Uechi-Ryu until the day this life ends. But one must be open to exploring and expanding. True learning can never happen by limiting oneself. So, get out there and see what you can learn. Some skills are inherently transferable. I promise you that if you train in Kendo, Kenjutsu or Iaido, you’d be able to swing a club or a stick and defend yourself just as admirably, even if the club or stick doesn’t have a cutting edge. So branch out and learn. As the old saying goes, if you’re breathing, you should still be learning. Food for thought… ☯️

To Fight Or Not To Fight… That Is The Question…

Given the direction that the world is heading in, and some of the thoughts and opinions that seem to float around out there, I feel that this is a topic that is not only near and dear to me as a martial artist, but as someone who was terribly bullied as a child. In fact, if you can think of it, I’ve probably had it done. From wedgies to practical jokes, all the way to having a group of three peers beat the ever-loving shit out of me for having the audacity to speak up for myself, being thrown fully clothed into the gym showers first thing in the morning and even having my car vandalized and moved on me. On one occasion, which could be a story for another post, I was even attacked by a fellow student with a pocket knife. That knife successfully found purchase in my wrist. Karate saved the day on that occasion. And this bring me to today’s topic.

In keeping with the social climate, I need to point out that this post solely reflects my opinion on the subject. And bearing in mind that I’m speaking strictly in generalities and none of what’s written here should be construed as legal advice (especially since I’m not a lawyer), you should definitely do your own research and maintain your own opinions on this subject. Recently, I’ve seen a number of posts in social media where a person or in some cases, a couple, would hold up a placard that reads something akin to, “Stop sending your kids to school and telling them that if someone hits you, to hit them back. You are part of the problem.” In all seriousness, this line of thinking breaks my usual serene sense of calm and pisses me off beyond rational thought. Part of the problem? Are you kidding? Maybe we should start by addressing the fact that someone insisted on starting that scenario by hitting first. For my part, I’ve always taught my oldest the important steps of ask, tell, make.

If someone hits you, start by asking them to stop, followed by telling them so, if asking doesn’t work. If you’re in school, seeking the assistance of a teacher or adult can help. But you still need to be able to defend yourself and prevent harm or injury to yourself if none are available. This is where fighting back comes in. For 37 years now, I’ve trained in the martial arts. I’ve both benefited and been forced, to use my skills in real life scenarios where I’ve had to defend myself or others from harm and in some cases, mortal danger. Sounds dramatic. That’s not the intent. But the reality is that bullying is not a new concept. The attention on it is, with every armchair warrior and/or peace advocate strongly believing that we should all embrace peace, love each other and avoid violence at all costs. And trust me, true believers, I’m right there with you. I commit my life to the elimination of suffering in my life and the world around me. And embracing peace while avoiding violence would seem to be a logical step in that direction. However, logic is often lacking in someone who makes the conscious decision to bully others.

For over 35 years (probably longer, but the mat eludes me), I’ve trained in the martial arts. This has been an extremely important tool for me to promote and maintain my health. What most people don’t understand is that it was also a means of ensuring I could protect myself from those who sought to harm me or bully me. There had been instances, during my youth, where teachers or my parents got involved but the result was exactly what you would have expected to see in any 1980’s brat pack comedy film; it usually made maters worse. Eventually, my skills in karate not only allowed me to protect myself but it allowed to end the fights that others started. It took very little time for the bullies to start realizing that I was no longer an easy target and that they would likely suffer just as much injury as I would, just for the sake of a laugh. So, would one be correct in thinking, in those circumstances, that I shouldn’t have hit back? When one considers the fact that the bullying and abuse wouldn’t have stopped otherwise, I would say it was an important lesson for the bullies. I like to think that some of them may even have changed their bullying ways. Maybe that’s just hopeful thinking, though…

Telling people they shouldn’t teach their children to defend themselves when someone brings harm or injurious behavior their way is tantamount to encouraging “victim shaming,” where the victim is blamed for the outcome instead of bringing blame to the bully who initiated the situation. While I wholeheartedly agree that one never knows what may be happening in someone’s life to elicit this behavior, I believe even stronger that this singular fact doesn’t grant them the right to attack or bully my child. There are mechanisms in place to help you assess and find a way to channel those feelings, that anger and that energy. And I believe that in order to become a productive and successful member of modern society, my son will need to learn the importance of standing up for himself, up to and including defending himself. To do otherwise would make him a perpetual victim for the rest of his life; something I swore I would never be myself and I would never allow for my children.

Sensei often told me during my formative years never start a fight or use your training to harm others. But if someone brings harm or starts a fight with you, make sure you finish it. Doesn’t mean you have to cripple someone for life to get your point across, obviously. But under no circumstances should someone ALLOW themselves to get struck or injured just for the sake of being passive. Stop telling your kids to hit back? Maybe start telling your kid not to hit in the first place. That would solve one problem. But when it comes to bullying, sometimes you just gotta pop them like a balloon for them to float away. That’s not mine; that was from Rocky V. But a better one might be a reminder that “the only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing.” While I might not agree that a bully is inherently evil… misguided, perhaps, but not evil, it doesn’t mean that one should do something about it.

Again, this is a pretty charged topic and I know some folks have their own thoughts and opinions on it. The important thing is that an opinion is comparable to being a smoker. Smokers don’t care that non-smokers DON’T smoke. Because it causes them no harm. But to the non-smoker, the smoker is causing them all sorts of damage, if they do it on their vicinity. It’s the same thing with bullies. They continue to operate as they do until someone brings the harm to the forefront and makes them stop. So the lesson here is, even if you’re not the one who starts the fight, don’t allow yourself to be bullied, taken advantage or harmed. End the fight. Protect yourself. And for the naysayers who believe that scenario can be avoided, you may want to spend a bit of time in the real world before you assume friendship and hugs will fix your problems. Food for thought…☯️