MRI

I got an MRI for my right knee this evening. I'll get the word from my doctor Friday morning.

My knee is definitely stronger this time around than last--it can hold me up without pain to do push-ups. So I'm thinking partial tear, maybe.

Meanwhile, I'll try out the elliptical machine at the gym at work tomorrow. And a low-key martial arts class Friday. Sensei said he would give me a workout that kept my knee safe.

A Commodity In Short Supply

A college friend in touch with me via Facebook and old-fashioned telephone said to me, "It sounds like you don't do much beyond work and 'grappling.'"

I did figure out a while back that, on average, I have two hours a weekday night for everything I need to do--eat dinner, talk with my wife, do chores or bills or whatever needs doing. This two hours is what's left after work, commuting, martial arts training, an hour to get ready in the morning, and 8 hours of sleep.

And sometimes work intrudes into those two hours. At the very least, I'm checking the BlackBerry.

At a certain point, I can't keep this schedule up, and that happened last week. I missed class Monday because I worked late. Wednesday, I was exhausted but took two hours of class. The first hour, standup sparring, was the best sparring I've done in a long time. It showed that putting in two hours a week on sparring, and paying close attention to instructors, is paying off.

The next hour, grappling, saw me getting crushed by everybody, including some of the people I picked apart in sparring. But I did ask my sensei about why I keep getting put into a cradle by the big guys (weighting 30 or 40 pounds more than me), and he showed me that I stay too rigid when they pass my guard--I need to switch to a looser, more flexible defense at that point. Being rigid just lets the big guys manhandle me easier. Interesting; I'll see how that pans out. I'm sure it will take some trial to get it right, but definitely what I'm doing now ain't working.

But Friday, I missed class because of one of the few work-related parties I attend each year. I vowed not to get plastered, and indeed, I was able to hold the wine to a single glass, so I could get up in the morning for the Saturday 8:30 AM yoga class I enjoy with my wife--it's fun to share a form of exercise we both enjoy. (I did also get time in on the rowing machine at work Tuesday and Thursday.)

This coming week, between Thanksgiving and travel plans, I'll get little training in. But maybe a bit of a break will help me enjoy it more when I return.

Happy Thanksgiving to my friends in the martial arts.

Grappling: Psychological Questions

1. I was paired with a woman in our class Monday night, a lower belt who's doing well at grappling. My sensei said, "Don't crush her." I'm rarely paired with women. I wanted to let her work on her grappling. At first, I got her into an arm triangle forcing her to tap out. But then I let her go for submissions; twice she went for guillotines, and while I didn't give her the submissions, I also didn't try to power out of them or use really rigorous defense; I just tapped out. I thought it would be good for her to get the tapouts.
   Later I wondered, did I do the right thing? My sensei and very skilled black belts like Anthony don't allow themselves to be tapped out. Did I lose standing in the eyes of some classmates by tapping out to a lower-belt female? Or is it in my head?

2. I've come to realize I have a psychological block in grappling: When an opponent has good side control, is putting a lot of weight on me--especially when some of that pressure is on my mouth--I find myself becoming short of breath, worrying that I won't get enough oxygen. In short, I panic. And I tap out, even though I'm not in a choke or lock. It's happening with increasing frequency.
   I'll certainly talk with my sensei about it, but: How do I break that debilitating panic reaction?

Standup sparring is going well, I feel like I'm learning a lot by going to two classes a week. There's always lots to learn, but I no longer feel like I'm stuck on a plateau, not making any advances.

The Uses of Being Flustered

"Music is a gas," my old band teacher used to say, "because all you have to do is go around a corner and you run into somebody better than you." What a great attitude he had.

I was flustered last night in sparring class--my last before vacation--because the new sempai was just so much better than me. I found myself going back to bad habits from two or three years ago--bending down to avoid punches, narrowing my stance, even turning my back. To be sure, he had great control, he was not hitting hard enough to hurt me, but it did sting a bit, as it should. He would close the distance between us and I would get totally flustered.

In contrast, when I sparred with a couple of lower belts--even though they were much bigger than the new sempai, and roughly my height--I felt in control of the situation, able to spar at the distance I wanted. I felt safe.

So, when class was over--it was the last one of the night--I went up to Sensei and asked him for some things to think about over the next week, while I'm on vacation. Things he said:

1. When I jab, I should protect my chin with my shoulder, or move my head to the side.
2. He noticed that, when the sempai closed the gap with me, I would jab but move my front foot back so that I was standing on a very narrow base, and lose balance as he kept attacking. I had no idea I did that. So I need to move backward while jabbing by moving the rear foot back first. Basic stuff, but I don't do it when I'm flustered.

I said I need to practice, practice this stuff so that I can do it even when I'm flustered.

Beyond that, he said:

3. Stand my ground at times, don't back up. As he's closing the distance, I should even move forward sometimes, jamming his punches.
4. If he's in real close, push him away and throw a quick uppercut or hook as he's off balance. Sensei showed me how he practices that on a heavy bag.
5. And, as always, move my head, keep covered up.

Things to think about on vacation, and to practice, so I can do them even when I'm flustered or nervous about somebody closing the distance with me.

It was great that Sensei took the time to talk with me after class. I'm sure he wanted to get home.

New Black Belt in the School

It's always interesting when a new black belt arrives from outside the school. On Monday, I met this new sempai, and he was a credit to his belt--he was polite, respectful and amazingly skilled. I would guess he's in his late 20s; he's training with my sensei for competitive fights, and he's going to be in our school for a while.

He could tie me in knots in grappling, but he was deliberate and safe in his movements--he stopped at one point when I grunted to make sure I was okay. (I make a lot of noise when I grapple, unfortunately!)

I'm sure I'll learn a lot grappling with him, I just have to retain it in my head. One of the most challenging things about grappling is retaining/calling up when necessary what I've learned--it's a very technically complex art. There's also the challenge of embedding what I've learned into muscle memory.

Standup (kickboxing) also has a muscle-memory element. But much more so than in grappling, the biggest challenge for me is getting past sensory and emotional overload (excitement, fear) in order to do what I have learned to do.

Stepping It Up

It's been very hard to be consistent lately with MMA classes and other workouts. Last week was my 28th anniversary and my son's birthday; I've worked both last weekend (made it to Saturday class, guiltily) and this weekend (missed Saturday class, guiltily).

I will boost my classes to four a week; Monday, Wednesday and, on Friday, two classes in a row, to try and build conditioning more. I'm going to schedule an hour out of work to be at the gym on Tuesdays and Thursdays. On Sunday, I'll try to find something to do at home. I know this will be very tiring initially, and work and life will interfere. But you set goals, and you shoot for them.

My main focuses are 1) health, and 2) getting better at MMA.

Point 2 is simple: In striking, I need to move more, especially laterally, and relax a bit. In grappling, I will be taking two classes a week, which should help me really learn more techniques, at the muscle memory level; there too, I need to relax more, my sensei says. Another focus, picked up from a friend at work who used to do Gracie jiujitsu, is to either give the other person no space, or to take any space he gives me.

My Saturdays will be free. I'm hoping this means I can spend more time doing things with family. My Saturdays have been very hectic.

It would be nice to have a Saturday where I don't have to work. Pray for a slow news week.

Hero

I don't know about my friends, but I think one reason I am drawn to martial arts is I want to be a hero, or at least have the ability to be one. It's not something I generally think about, but I do think it's buried in my psyche.

I recently learned about my daughter's memory of a sad event when she was little. A relative was in the hospital, when my daughter was in early elementary school. Although it was hard for my daughter to understand what was going on, she understood the tension and sadness in the family.

While we were visiting at the hospital, she and I were separated when a fire alarm went off and a door between us automatically closed and locked. We could see each other through the door's window.

As soon as the alarm was over, I pushed open the door and went to her, I remember. But her (metaphorical) memory of the event was that I "ran like a hero through the flames and took my hand and saved me."

I do hope I can get back to sparring. This week I had a frank talk with the sensei at my old school about how at-risk I was starting to feel in our sparring classes when I took a break from the school three months ago. He listened attentively, we talked about what he's been trying to do to rein in the hot-heads, and we worked out a plan for me to start getting accustomed to my school's style of sparring again, a step at a time.

But it's deeply satisfying to know, whether sparring works out or not, I'm already a hero in somebody's eyes.

Nothing More Tiring

I had two hours of class today. In the second hour, among many other things, I went three rounds boxing with my sensei. It's like trying to block lightning. He has full control of his punches, but you feel them.

My wife said I looked miserable when I got home. I told her I was very, very tired.

"There is nothing more tiring," I told my wife, "than getting hit."

Eyebrow raised, she said, "I have no idea why you enjoy this."

I said, "I'm not sure I would if every time were like this."

I did learn a lot, however. In grappling, I was reminded of the D'Arce choke, which I'd forgotten how to do even though I'd mentioned it before; I also learned a way of flipping an opponent who has me in side control by grapevining his leg.

And in the black belt class, we worked on two ways of setting up the uppercut; 1) Draw the opponent's right hand to the side of his head by throwing two open hand hooks, then go into position to throw a very hard hook--but throw a front-hand uppercut to the head, followed by a cross; or 2) slip the jab, take a stop towards the opponent, then throw the backhand uppercut followed by the front hook (then move away).

Finally, sensei told me I was dropping my hand BEFORE throwing my jab, which was allowing him to come over the top with his cross. And I need to keep my hands up even when a speedster like him is out of reach, because he can move in and hit my head so quickly.

Very tiring.

Unexpected Responses from Sensei

Last night, I talked with my sensei about what's next after getting my black belt.

I started off by telling him I wished he had seen me grappling at the black belt test (he was judging students in a different ring). I wanted him to see because I enjoyed it and did well... and because I had a feeling he wasn't very confident in my grappling abilities before the test.

His response: He had been more confident in my grappling skill than I was.

I was very surprised. But given how hard I can be on myself--and how nervous I was about grappling before the test--it made sense. After all, he wouldn't have sent me to the test if he didn't expect me to pass.

I told him I want to cut back a bit on training for a stretch to give more time to my family, and he said, that's fine, I earned it.

But I want to continue to learn. What's next?

Next is the second degree. But he said not to rush. In our school, there is a deliberate process that has to be followed to earn higher degrees to the black belt, and it can easily take two or three years. I expressed concern at how tough the ring is where candidates for higher degrees compete at the test; he said I would have the skills for it by the time I went.

We talked about my interest in sprinting for conditioning and leg strength. He said it's a great idea, but I should ideally do it at least a couple of times a week.

I said I could only picture one day a week to sprint, Sunday, because during the week I rise at 5:45 AM for work, and return home about 7 PM. And on Saturday, I take a couple of hours of martial arts classes, so I clearly can't sprint that day.

His response: Why not sprint early on Saturday? Just leave several hours between sprinting and martial arts class.

He said that in preparation for tournaments, he would work out, run or train three times daily, day after day.

Hmm, I thought. Well, I'm 52 and he's not.

But I won't be doing it every day, and I won't be doing three workouts in a day. I can try a double workout once a week and see how it goes. As Hack Shaft says, eventually the muscles adjust.

Tomorrow is Saturday, the first Saturday of the rest of my life, and I'll give it a try.

One sign that I've taken the black belt as a beginning, not an end: I expected that after the test, my weight would rise somewhat. Instead, it's continuing a slow decline.

Sempai BobSpar

I'm sore, I'm tired, but I'm elated--I got my black belt today.

It's been almost two and a half years since I last tested. That was when my ACL got snapped in two.

I felt like my mind was somewhat calm (if worried) coming into the test, but my body was very anxious. And while my mind was worried about things like failing in front of people, my body was anxious about my knee. My left knee was hurting walking down the steps of the terraced parking lot to the test site, at a college in suburban New Jersey.

I was in what we called the "geriatric ring," a station for people 35 and older. I'm not entirely certain, but I believe that, at 52, I was the oldest candidate in the group. Most of the candidates seemed to be in their 40s, and maybe a few were late 30s.

I flew through the pushups; the situps were tougher because I was told I needed to get down lower, touching more of my lower back to the mat.

Then I waited, and waited, and waited. All the other candidates had to go through all the parts of the test I passed before. While waiting, I struggled with the "fight or flight" reaction--I had to keep telling myself, you've done this before, you've been grappling hard, you've learned a lot, go in there when it's time and go for it.

The following is very technical about grappling, sorry! If you wish to skip the detail, please go to the final two paragraphs.

When it was time for grappling--before which I stretched and did pushups to get my body warm--I was initially paired with the person I thought was the weakest opponent. I told myself, don't assume he's not tough. But I did feel that if I didn't do well against him, it would be troubling to me and the judges.

All the work in recent weeks I've put into grappling paid off. There were so many things I did that I only learned while in my training for this test in the past two or three months. I went in, as Steve suggested, with a plan for what to do in each position, and I executed it. With this first opponent, I ended up getting him to tap out twice--once in a chicken wing from when I had him in my guard, and once with an L-lock when I had swept him and mounted him. (Addendum: In retrospect, I think I tapped him out a third time in a guillotine.)

My confidence soared--I was off to a good start.

Then came the second four-minute match. This opponent, another brown belt, was much tougher--very strong in the standup part. I got a bruise below my left eye that I didn't notice until someone pointed out afterward, but I'm sure it was from his head.

But I did pull him into my guard, and got him in a chicken wing. He fought it pretty well, but finally had to tap out. I felt terrific.

We stood up, went at it again. He started to grab my leg, and I pulled him into the guard again. I think what happened (amazing how much you can forget) is that I swept him, got him in a mount, and when he turned to his side to protect his arm, I went for an arm bar.

Unfortunately, I gave him enough room to slip out of it and go for an arm bar against me, which he got. I tapped quickly once he got it in tight--I had no interest in dropping out because my arm was broken.

Once more, standing up, he was more wary about me, but I pulled him into the guard again, and got him in a kimura lock again (which can lead to the chicken wing). He fought it well, and we ran out of time.

I was elated to hear that I (and everyone who had made it that far) got our belts. There were a few people from my local school there who congratulated me. I called my wife and daughter (my wife was too traumatized from seeing me hurt the last time to attend this one, though she provided ample moral support).

I was far from perfect. Sempai Chance, who had given me a lesson Friday, said I was trying to sit straight up from my guard to do the sweep, rather than turning to my side first. I lost putting my second opponent into an arm bar because I gave him room to get out.

I have so much left to learn. And that's one definition of a black belt--a serious martial arts student.

But I attacked and defended well enough to show that I knew what I was doing well enough to pass.

I'm grateful to all the people (including readers of this blog) who encouraged me on the way. I am grateful to my sensei; at the end of the day, I asked him to honor me by putting my belt on for the first time, which he was happy to do.

It's been a long road since that awful moment when my ACL ripped on the grappling mat. I wouldn't say that the black belt or ACL recovery are the most difficult things I've ever done, tough as they are. Trying to be a good father and husband in this imperfect and disruptive world is harder and far more important. But it's encouraging and thrilling to be able to say that, just days short of my 53rd birthday, having recovered from ACL surgery two years earlier, I got my black belt.

Black Belt Worries

My black belt test is less than two weeks away, and I'm concerned.

I basically have to do three things: 1) 50 pushups in excellent form. 2) 50 situps in a minute. 3) Show I can attack and defend in two 4-minute grappling matches.

I'm worried about the standards I will face for pushups and grappling.

I can do 50 pushups. But I do them with my hands wider than my shoulders. If the standard is to get my chest down to the floor--some judges want that, some don't--I probably won't pass. My shoulders don't move that way. If I had spent several years doing pushups with my hands right next to my torso, it would be easier to get my chest down to the floor, but that's not how I've been training.

I am not a natural grappler. I can't bend my knees as much as I need to really sit on my heels in the guard; I have difficulty remembering and instantly putting into action all the various moves, or even enough of the various moves. I just don't think like a grappler. I'm a much better grappler, I believe, than when I tested two and a half years ago. But again, it depends on the standard of the judges I'll be with.

Tonight, my sensei was telling me many things I need to do better at grappling--sit up in the guard, get out of the guard quickly, move back and push the legs to the side if his feet are in my hips, etc., etc.

The other thing looming over me is that I don't know when I'll be able to test again. I can't keep this pace up. I have, at 52, the most demanding job I've ever had. I am missing classes taking my daughter to visit colleges. I have another child generating a lot of worries for me. My wife misses seeing me because I'm either working or training.

So this feels a bit like a last chance to try for the black belt, for now at least.

Delay of the Black Belt Candidate

I spoke with my sensei tonight, and I'm going to skip this Sunday's test and wait until May to test for black belt.

I've lost too much ground with my current illness; sensei said he wouldn't be able to sleep if he sent me to the test and I got hurt because I wasn't in condition.

The plan is:

1) Get healthy.

2) Improve my eating habits. On days when I'm training in the evening, maybe have two meal substitutes/small meals in the evening instead of a dinner soon before training, and then some protein afterwards.

3) Get back to class and train regularly.

4) Cross train by doing bag workouts, including sprint-like punching/kicking sessions. This substitutes for the interval sprinting I used to do to prepare for competition/testing, and which I can't do anymore because of plantar fasciitis (painful soles of my feet).

I would have gone if my sensei said I should, but I'm relieved I'll have more time to really prepare.

Wicked Virus, Bad Timing

I am on my 10th day being sick, and my black belt test is in less than a week.

I haven't had a virus like this in a long time. I AM getting better, but it sure is slow. Last night, I got up at midnight from bed and moved to the living room couch because my coughing was waking up my wife. I don't want her to be sleep deprived and then become sick as well.

My brother, who lives in another state, had the same thing and he said it took him two full weeks to kick it. I'm blaming him for giving me the virus over the phone.

I haven't been to a martial arts class since TWO Thursdays ago (it's Martin Luther King Day as I write this) and I haven't been doing such basic prep for the test as cardio, push-ups and sit-ups, let along grappling training, etc.

I'm going to speak to my sensei tonight about what I should do. Given how I feel at the moment, I will only be slightly disappointed if he tells me I should put off the test.

It has been difficult the past nine or 10 months to put in as much training as I'd like. My job has been relentlessly demanding; combined with my three-hour round-trip commute, finding time and energy for family and life necessities has been tough, let along martial arts. I put in a burst of extra training when I decided to try again for the black belt, but this illness has derailed that effort.

I don't know what's going to happen at the moment.

Courage

I am trying out a new schedule for martial arts. After a stretch where crises at work and home really ate into my time for training, I'm now going four hours a week--an hour Tuesday night, two hours Friday night, and an hour on Saturday.

Last night, I had an hour of intermediate-advance grappling (a new thing for me and my school) and an hour of sparring.

The grappling was fun; I learned a new move, the Darse (Darce? Maybe Steve knows) choke, in which you can use someone's locked arms around your neck against them from side control (I know this is gibberish to traditional martial artists, apologies).

And in sparring, I had an important lesson.

Brandon, a second-degree black belt in my school, is my nemesis. I don't mean that phrase as in he's mean or out to get me or evil or anything. I like Brandon, he's a polite young man in his 20s. He's a great athlete, V-shaped torso, all that. He's really fast, and strong, and he's really, really a challenge for me in sparring.

(A digression: Once I was writing to my friend Wendy about how Brandon was just kicking my tail in an effort to prepare me for a tournament some years back. Her response was classic: "This is great. It's so much more important to get beaten up by a 20-year-old with a V-shaped torso than by paunchy middle-aged men in a meeting at work.")

So anyway, Friday night, Brandon several times would slip my jab, move in and throw a flurry of punches. While he's not throwing as hard as he can, the punches do hurt.

My quite natural reaction was to move - walk - backwards, lean away, do anything to get away from the punches.

What my sensei pointed out to me--and to all the other people in class who had the same reaction to his flurries--that we were just opening ourselves up for even more punishment by moving backwards. We were placing ourselves at the far end of his punches, where they have the most power. We were loosening our bodies instead of tightening them. We were opening up and making ourselves more vulnerable.

You can try to do other things, like move to the side. But what he told us to do was grab the mat with our feet, stand our ground, tuck our chin down, protect our head and torso with our arms, and keep our eyes open. When he's in close, his punches won't have as much power. Our bodies and defenses will be closed and tight. And we will be able to look for an opening. A single return punch, even if it doesn't land well, will tend to stop the flurry and make him instinctually move backwards, giving the defender a chance to breathe again. Also, standing your ground can allow you to lock up the person's arms so he can't keep punching.

This is great theory, it all makes sense. What it takes to put into practice is courage.

The characters above are, according to japanese.about.com, kanji for courage.

Sparring

I had a good sparring session Friday night--it was fun, I learned stuff, and I did well.

I had two opponents who particularly posed challenges. Anthony is maybe an inch taller than me at 6'3.5"; usually I have a reach advantage against opponents. I'd say he's late 30s or early 40s.

Mitch, a brown belt in his 40s, is a southpaw, very fast, technically very good, and has usually posed real difficulty for me in sparring. His punches and kicks seem to be coming from the wrong direction to me since he's mirroring my stance.

With both, I was trying to move my head while I threw my punches, which helps avoid getting dinged at the same time that you punch somebody. I do remember at least a couple of times when an opponent's punch sailed past my ear while my punch landed, which was a thrill.

With tall Anthony, I was trying to get inside at times. I would throw a jab while moving my head to the right, and step inside. Often at that point he would clinch me, but I worked on continuing to throw punches from the inside, or working to get a knee kick. Honestly, one of the things that helped me was that he was very tired, he was on his third hour of working out.

Sensei was showing Mitch and me that, as a righty-lefty pair, our power sides (right for me, left for him) were very open to attack, requiring us to be SURE to move our heads when throwing a power punch; and that we should try to position our front feet outside our opponent's front foot (which can lead to an interesting dance when you're both moving in the same direction).

It occurs to me that this is probably all too technical for people who pursue very different martial arts, but I guess one function of this post is to remind me to do these things in the future.

I was able to keep Mitch, who's a bit shorter than me, at the outside of my range with my punches and kicks; sensei mentioned this to me afterwards and I felt like a million bucks.

One thing I really need to work on is keeping my hands up, which can get tiring when you're wearing 16-ounce gloves. Often I hold my hands about at chin level when I'm sparring, which in our school (where you can punch to the head, though in class we do take it easy) is too low. I don't know why I do that, because in drills I do keep my hands up higher. A bad old habit, I guess, but one that I now know I need to work on.

Sparring With Sensei

Last night, a Friday night, I was the only student in my sparring class, so I got to spar with sensei.

My sensei is a Muay Thai champion.

When Caryn at the front desk told me my sole classmate would be sensei, I said, "You know, I think I have something really important to do at home...."

"Too late," sensei said.

I didn't suspect that he would injure me. He is totally in control. I'm safer sparring with him than with most of my classmates, in terms of risking injury.

I was very aware, however, of how futile my response to him would be on the mat. This has to do with his skill level compared to mind, but it doesn't help that he's 32 and I'm 52.

After warming up, we started off with drills--he would use his jab only, for instance, and I would block with the same-side hand. Since I knew it was coming, I could generally block it. But even in the drills, I was getting tired from the constant motion around the mat.

We would trade roles in the drills, then we started counterpunching--each time knowing what the other would do since the type of punch or kick was limited.

Eventually we got around to free sparring, two-minute rounds, 30 seconds off.

I have sparred with people much better than me. I usually manage to defend myself and land some punches and kicks, even if the other person is clearly better.

With my sensei, trying to block his punches was like trying to block lightning. And he moved so constantly that I usually couldn't come close to landing a punch. He didn't wear head gear or a mouth guard, because he didn't need them.

At first we only used hands. He urged me to keep moving; use my reach with my jab; to not cross my legs when moving backwards; to cover up if he came in too quickly for me to evade, but to keep looking for opportunities to counterpunch, and to get out of there when I could. I was totally, totally overmastered. My jabs kept sailing around or over his head as he moved. I was afraid of using much besides the jab for fear of exposing myself to counterpunches. He would set up his punches perfectly--getting me to, say move my hands together in defense in front of my body so he could throw a hook punch unblocked. And I was getting exhausted.

I did a little better when I could kick. He later said that my kicks are fast for a big guy. But as I tired further, it got harder to kick. At one point, he faked a round kick with one leg, I brought my leg up to block, he then kicked with his other leg after my block went down. I need to try that on somebody sometime!

On top of all this, I got stomach cramps toward the end. First thing I did when I got home was head to the bathroom.

He explained a lot about what he was doing, what I should be doing, that evening and the next day when I came to class again. I asked if I was telegraphing the punches or just slow--he said he could read my punches but I wasn't telegraphing too badly, he's just able to see them coming. He said that when someone shorter than me comes in bobbing and weaving low, I should jab down at him, maybe even hold him briefly, and use uppercuts to bring him up.

There will be more classmates in future Friday night classes, but I do think I will learn a lot from sparring with sensei. I hope I don't get too frustrated in the process.

Life, Training

I spent a three day weekend with my 80-something parents in another city. I went there to help my father after he got an operation, but he was recovering fine. Instead, I was helping them with other crises, health and otherwise. It was a good weekend for me to be there--and I was happy I could give a break to my brother, who lives nearby and who bears the brunt of the care for them.

I've missed three martial arts classes in the past week, due largely to my trip. First things first.

It's just killing me that my shoulder hasn't healed yet--I'm going to see a doctor about it.

In the one class I made this week, when I told my sensei I couldn't do pushups because of my hurt shoulder, he had a real kick-ass alternative: "Do one-armed pushups," he said, and promptly showed how easily HE could do them.

One of my friends in class said, "You should have told him you have TWO hurt shoulders."

Sparring, Worry, Joy, ACL, Decisions

From a letter to a friend:

I recently told my sensei that I'm not going to test for the black belt this fall. I took on a very tough assignment in March, the kind of demanding assignment I avoided for years because I had to save energy for dealing with my son. He is actually back in the house now, and doing extremely well--in part because he's learned, in part we think because we've gotten back in touch with his birth mother (which is a real healing thing for him), and in part because he's just older. The job just has not left me with energy to prepare for a black belt test AND devote energy to my family. I would have to put in 48 hours of class in six weeks to prepare, and I just can't do that now. (What I have to figure out eventually is whether I will ever enjoy this demanding job that is running me ragged. I'm at the start of two weeks of vacation now.)

Stepping back from the test has allowed me to enjoy my classes more. I also returned to sparring class, which I left after I had a slight re-injury of my knee in the early spring. My thinking had been, I don't need kickboxing for the test, I already passed that part, and I didn't want to put my repaired ACL at risk.

But the primal chess game of kickboxing with people is what I enjoy the most about martial arts, and I've now been to two classes. I've got some ring rust, but I still can see sometimes when people are making mistakes I can exploit. And as my friend Larry told me, "You've still got your front kick," which was my signature move before I tore my ACL.

Part of the fun of the class too is that our sensei is an amazing kickboxer, and he studies you and gives you tips. He wants me to work on throwing my jab while I'm backing up in good form--keeping people at the end of the jab and frustrating them as they advance, instead of standing in place and jabbing while they get close enough to hit me. He's shorter than me, and keeps talking about what an advantage my reach is. I know I would trade my reach for his lightning speed and strength any day, but it's good to work with what you have.

I do wish I had taken all this up at 19 instead of 52. I do wonder how good I could have been--I don't think I would have been a great athlete, but surely I could have a higher level of skill. Would I feel the corrosive worry I now feel about so many things? (Probably so, just different things!)

But I also think about what I have gained--my health has vastly improved. I no longer have to take cholesterol medicine, and I've lost something like 20 pounds despite adding muscle. A nascent hernia in my bellybutton has vanished. I have new friends, and I love the feeling of physical motion again.

Lots of News

There's lots of news here, starting with martial arts news:

1. I told my sensei I don't want to test for the black belt this fall. Work has been so demanding of my time and energy--and I need time with family as well--that this just isn't the time to test. Simply putting in the time required by my school to test--48 hours of classes in the six weeks before the test--is more than I can do now.
I had been feeling like attending class was more a chore than a joy, because it was something I had to do to prepare for a test that seemed too demanding on my life now. I didn't like that feeling.
My sensei was fine with my decision, which I should have expected but I was relieved to see.

2. Related to my decision not to test, I've returned to kickboxing/sparring classes. I had not taken them because I already passed that part of the test, and friends counseled me not to put my ACL-repaired knee at risk in those classes since it wasn't necessary for the test. However, the standup part of martial arts is the part I enjoy the most--I thrill to the primal chess game of it. (Apologies to Steve and others, I do realize the ground game is also a chess match--maybe even more so--but I like standup better.)
My return to kickboxing class, on Wednesday, had me a little nervous about "ring rust" and my knee, and it was quite challenging, but it was so much fun. I'm happy to be back.

3. On the home front, we're meeting my son's birthmother on Sunday. It's a very emotional and big thing. My son has been home for the past couple of months, after spending quite a long time living elsewhere, and I'm happy to say it's been very good to have him here.

4. Due to a lack of time and a decision to commit funds elsewhere, I am going to drop my gym membership (not my martial arts school, but a gym I used for cross training). The biggest downside is that I no longer will be able to lead the Jersey City Fight Club. However, our little group is moribund anyway at the moment since I haven't had the spare time at work to go down to the gym. We're moving to a new office in Manhattan early next year, with an inexpensive on-site gym, and I'm hoping we can revive the club then.

5. I broke down and began renting a DVR from our TV company, and my first show to tape was Contender Asia, a reality show about 16 Muay Thai fighters, filmed in Singapore. The artistry of the show isn't as high as I thought it was for the U.S. boxing-focused Contender show, especially the second season. But watching Naruepol, a Thai-born fighter, in the ring was a revelation. His kicks were amazing, fast and powerful. I didn't see him feint much with his punches, but lots with his kicks.

That's enough news for now.

Don't Compare--Chapter 17

I had a talk with my sensei Monday night because I was feeling discouraged about my grappling--and I need my grappling to get my black belt.

Besides feeling tired from my new job, I just don't feel I'm doing well compared to some others in my class.

He said:

1) Don't compare myself with others, who by definition are in different situations. (I'm re-re-relearning this lesson.)

2) He can see what I've overcome my fears about my knee getting reinjured--I had to do that before I could move on.

3) The new job is also draining me mentally, which affects what you can learn in grappling and how fast you can react.

He said to focus not on everything, but on two or three submissions from the guard and from side control, and to take a private lesson or two, which I'm going to do.