Twisted Knee

I am thinking this blog should be perhaps renamed "The Middle-Aged Martial Artist's Knee."

On Friday evening, at my sparring class, I twisted my right knee (it's the left knee that got the ACL reconstruction). It was immediately and extremely painful; I dropped to the floor on my back and had to discontinue the class.

I was sparring with a young brown belt, and I used a punch-move-kick combination I'd been working on for a few weeks. At the end of the combination, I pivot and step slightly to my right and throw what, for me anyway, is a relatively high kick--into the opponent's midsection. My younger opponent grabbed my leg (I wasn't kicking very hard) and held it.

So my entire weight was on my right knee, while I was standing, rather like a Tyrannosaurus Rex, stretched out horizontally on top of it. Either through his torque or my falling or both, my right knee torqued/twisted, and down goes Bob.

I've been resting, elevating, icing the knee and taking anti-inflammatory painkillers since then, and the knee feels better. It's still tender, hurts when twisting at all, and hurts when I bend it a significant distance.

I don't think the ACL is torn. My biggest worry is that my restricted range of motion when bending the knee suggests I've got a meniscus tear.

Injuries are always frustrating.

Right now I feel I'm in my best shape in years. I've been supplementing my martial arts training with running two or three days a week on the treadmill at the gym at work (which doesn't cut into time at home). Lately I've been trying to do interval work on the treadmill--sprint, run, sprint, etc.

My weight is down to 185-187 pounds (about 84 kg); to put into context, I'm about 6'2" or 188 cm. While my grappling has been very frustratingly bad, I've been making real strides my sparring, which is my main interest, after being on a plateau for a long time. A new assistant instructor at my school has noted my eagerness to improve and has taken me under his wing with good results.

My hope is that I will be able to return soon to running and to my martial arts classes (though I shudder to think what kneeling for grappling would feel like). I'm hoping with time I'll have less restrictions on my range of motion; already it seems to be improving, though I did try squatting this morning and had to let out a gasp when it hurt to get low.

Right now I'd really prefer not to go the route of surgery.

If anybody has any experience that could shed light on what to expect, I'd love to hear about it.

DudeBro Bob

Second day of surfing lessons. I got up early while Jeanne slept. Waves were much bigger today.

I didn't stand up all the way, best I did was get one leg up under me. It occurred to me that my reduced flexibility after ACL reconstruction probably makes it a little harder to bring that left leg up under my body the way it's supposed to.

I was nervous. I kept thinking about an older man I know who, some years back, broke his neck body surfing and is paralyzed from the neck down. I learned how to use the surfer's helmet (both arms cradling the head to cushion any impact), and that I should tumble with the wave instead of fighting it. I wiped out repeatedly. The first time, I actually felt my gorge rise from tumbling and nerves.

Surfer dude Matt, my instructor, said if you're not wiping out, you're not trying.

I don't think I'Ll be trading in my day job for the surfing circuit anytime soon.

"The Amputee's Guide To Sex"

In the past two days of my fresh vacation, I read a book of poems called "The Amputee's Guide To Sex," by the young poet Jillian Weise. In this blog, I wrestle with physical limitations in the martial arts like deepening middle age and ACL surgery. This poet (who is an amputee) is struggling with recurring pain, extreme reactions from other people, self-image issues, you name it. I couldn't read too many of the poems to my wife while she was driving, they were too emotionally raw.

A Benefit of Aging

I finally got back to two classes Friday night, for the first time since I was sick last month. It felt good, though I was ready for bed when I got home.

I am often unwise enough to complain about the encroachment of age. But lately, the thought has occurred to me that I've lived long enough that some defects have turned into positives--or, to put it another way, some curses have turned into blessings.

Take my build.

I recently found stuck in a book of poetry a health certificate I got from the city of Houston when I was 19, something I needed for a summer job in construction. I weighed 165 pounds, and I was 6' 2" tall (well, 6' 1.5"). In metric terms, I was about 1.87 meters tall and weighed 75 kilograms.

I was really, really skinny.

I had a few kind people in my youth suggest that I needed bulking up. A coach at a basketball camp suggested heading to a gym and working out with weights. In my sophomore year of college, the first girlfriend I really, really liked gently dropped me after we had dated a few weeks; years later she told me one factor was I was just so ... skinny.

Eventually of course I gained weight, and ended up in a state where my cholesterol was too high and my waist line was pushing 40 inches. I started training in martial arts because it was a form of exercise I figured I would enjoy enough to stick with it. I lost close to 30 pounds, and was able to go off cholesterol pills. I weigh around 190 lb. now (~86 kg), a lot more than when I was 19, but a lot less than I did 10 years ago at 44.

I'm not very muscular. But recently three different guys who are trying to lose weight have remarked enviously on my slender figure. And it occurred to me that I've lived long enough that my build, which once seemed a hindrance to getting on the basketball team and keeping a girlfriend, has become an asset.

When I'm 54

I turned 54 yesterday. I was 44 when I first joined my school; at the time it was called a karate school, but was transitioning to the mixed martial arts school it is today. In January, it will be 10 years since I first joined.

I had a nice birthday. I took the day off from work, and when my wife got off at noon, we went to a local beach town, had a sinfully good burger lunch (Five Guys Burgers--I'm not a burger person but it's great). My wife's joke was that I was very Buddhist in ordering my hamburger: "Make me one with everything." Then we spent time poking around the town and hanging out on the beach. In the evening, I went to my usual two-hour Friday classes, first a kind of cardio class and then kickboxing, which I enjoy a lot. My college-bound daughter made me delicious lava cupcakes.

Since my last post, I have been training pretty consistent lately--an hour of grappling on Monday and Wednesday evening, and the two hours on Friday. On Tuesday and Thursday, I get to work a little early and go to the nice, inexpensive gym there--I usually do lunges, pushups, crunches, planks and 25 minutes on a bike. The theory is to take Saturday off and, on Sunday, do some type of workout (that hasn't been so consistent).

Part of the idea for this schedule is that at my age it's best to be very steady in terms of working out--not take breaks of multiple days between working out. I think its working. I feel like I'm in better cardio condition than a couple of months ago. I've lost a little weight--for the first time in years, I've dropped below 190 pounds this week (I know that sounds like a lot, but I'm 6'2" and I'm happy with my weight).

I do feel a bit frustrated this week about the skill level I am reaching in grappling and kickboxing. I am getting better at grappling doing it two times a week, but it isn't an art that comes naturally to me. When presented with new situations, I have trouble finding a solution. In kickboxing, it's easy to forget about the need to focus on moving (feet and head). I need to look at how I'm improving more than how I fare against classmates.

Later this month I will get my annual checkup; I'm wondering how my cholesterol is. There was an interesting article in the (subscription) Wall Street Journal about how to calculate your arteries' age; I would like to see what mine are.

Foreshadowing?

A classmate once observed the tradeoff for not having the ills of a sedentary life--aching back, diabetes-related ills, heart troubles--is having lots of little acute pains.

Today I still have a sore thumb which I jammed a couple of weeks ago, but I also have aches from three days in a row of class, including my first grappling class since August.

And, weirdly, I'm sore from falling out of the shower for the first time in my life. Yesterday, after grappling class, I was taking a shower at home, and I lost my balance; my feet slipped out from under me, and down I want, pulling the shower curtain down with me.

Fortunately I didn't do any serious damage--I didn't hit my head, and my knees bent normally, so no knee injuries. I remember putting a chair in the shower after my ACL surgery to avoid falling and tearing my new ACL.

But I definitely got bruised up. I don't know why I fell, but I quickly thought of how my father, at 89, fell a few months ago and ended up in the hospital. It felt like a foreshadowing of what's to come when I get old, and I didn't like that feeling.

Blah

Sparred tonight. I don't like getting hit in the head by people who don't know how hard they're punching. I don't like that I still have a hard time dealing with people who rush in. I feel like I don't know how to spar right now and wonder if I'm past the age where it's fun. Blah.

Dark Season

I recently heard the idea of treating Advent, the time leading up to Christmas, as a dark time. The bright lights wait for Christmas.

This idea makes emotional sense to me.

Now is a time of increasing darkness; shopping and seasonal preparation are hectic, which I don't enjoy. I'm still working, and it's not until Christmas that I'll have time off. With my parents' difficult straits, and my son's struggles, it doesn't feel joyful right now--this is probably one of the issues of middle age. This weekend, I'm skipping a party on an evening my wife is out of town, and I'm planning just to read.

On Christmas Eve, I will attend a joyful Christmas Eve service of singing at my church, and then join my wife's family at a huge party bringing together relatives from all over. That, to me, is when the season of light begins.

Watching Dad Grow Frail

I've spent much of the past two weeks in Virginia, helping my family after my 89-year-old father fell and broke his arm. I took four days off work the first week, then returned, with my wife and daughter, for a few days around Thanksgiving.

One of the defining experiences for many of us in middle age is seeing our parents grow old, frail and ill. It rattles me to the core because my Dad was such a strong provider and protector of the family while I was growing up.

Both my parents are suffering from early dementia or Alzheimer's, which is evident in the disappearance of their short-term memory, and their inability to really follow through on any task out of the ordinary. But they still love seeing their children and grandchildren, know who we are, and reminisce about the past.

Dad's fall, and the cascading problems that have ensued from that, have finally allowed us to force on my parents 24-hour home health aides, who are being accepted by my folks. It's a great relief for my brother and me; my brother lives near my parents and has devoted a huge amount of time to helping out, which has me concerned for his own health and well being. Unless my Dad shows lots of improvement, which often doesn't happen at his age, we will need to find a facility that can care for them both--the 24-hour help at their house is great but in the long run unaffordable.

On the way back home, we swung by one of the art colleges my daughter is considering attending, Maryland Institute College of Art, in Baltimore. My son spent Thanksgiving on the west coast, visiting with his biological family (both my kids were adopted). I'm glad my son is in touch with his biological family, I think it is good for him; we also can see how some of the volatility that bedevils our son is also very inherent in his birth siblings as well. (My daughter, born in Korea, doesn't know who her birth family is.)

Needless to say, I haven't had much time to train or work out. Seeing my Dad's growing frailty really reinforced for me the importance of staying in shape, to keep the quality of life as high as possible for as long as possible.

My three month stint at my new school is about over. I'm now seriously considering going back to my original martial arts school, where I still have a lot of classes paid for. I've learned a lot at the new school, particularly in the weekly private lessons. And the sparring is very much in control, which as a resident of the late middle ages I appreciate. It's a lot less expensive than my old school as well.

However, it's mostly me and a bunch of teenagers in class; they're nice, but not my friends--I have many friends at my old school. The workout isn't as intense as I used to get at my old school. And I can't wear the black belt I earned at the old school at the new one.

I'm planning (and we know not all plans work out) to continue getting up early and hitting the inexpensive and convenient gym at my office before the day starts, four days a week, for cardio and weight lifting. Then I'll attend martial arts classes two or three times a week. If I feel comfortable sparring at my old school, I'll do that; if not, I may continue to spar at the new school, and go to the old school for the exercise and camaraderie (and maybe for grappling).

The Continuous Life

My stomach has been bothering me all day, and I'm skipping class tonight.

So, for something completely different, here is a wonderful poem about being a parent and a human being; I suppose it is also about middle age, since that's generally when you're raising children. It has absolutely nothing to do with martial arts.

I discovered this poem inscribed on a children's fountain in Manhattan a number of years back when I was having a terrible day and went for a walk.

The author is Mark Strand; the book it appears in has the same title as the poem, "The Continuous Life."

Here's a link to the Amazon page with the book: http://www.amazon.com/Continuous-Life-Poems-Mark-Strand/dp/0679738444/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1253147907&sr=1-1

And here's the poem, from Answers.com:

The Continuous Life

What of the neighborhood homes awash
In a silver light, of children hunched in the bushes,
Watching the grown-ups for signs of surrender,
Signs that the irregular pleasures of moving
From day to day, of being adrift on the swell of duty,
Have run their course? Oh parents, confess
To your little ones the night is a long way off
And your taste for the mundane grows, tell them
Your worship of household chores has barely begun;
Describe the beauty of shovels and rakes, brooms and mops;
Say there will always be cooking and cleaning to do,
That one thing leads to another, which leads to another;
Explain that you live between two great darks, the first
With an ending, the second without one, that the luckiest
Thing is having been born, that you live in a blur
Of hours and days, months and years, and believe
It has meaning, despite the occasional fear
You are slipping away with nothing completed, nothing
To prove you existed. Tell the children to come inside,
That your search goes on for something you lost — a name,
A family album that fell from its own small matter
Into another, a piece of the dark that might have been yours,
You don't really know. Say that each of you tries
To keep busy, learning to lean down close and hear
The careless breathing of earth and feel its available
Languor come over you, wave after wave, sending
Small tremors of love through your brief,
Undeniable selves, into your days, and beyond.

"The Continuous Life (Poem Text)." Notes on Poetry. Answers Corporation, 2006. Answers.com 17 Sep. 2009. http://www.answers.com/topic/the-continuous-life-poem-1

New Plan

I am trying some new things.

I've started attending a new martial arts school. I'm adding some basic weight training to my exercise regime. I want to see how these changes affect my health and my skills and enjoyment in martial arts.

My old school is terrific; it got me into excellent shape, taught me a lot, introduced me to new friends, and provided a path to get my black belt. I still have classes I paid for there that I will use.

After eight-and-a-half years of training at my old school, I now want to see what I can learn at another school, and see how I like a different approach to health.

My new school is also a mixed martial arts school; I have entered as a non-belt student (the school also teaches a more traditional martial art, complete with belt rankings; I'm not doing that). At the moment, I'm focusing on standup/striking, the part of martial arts I have usually liked most.

The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, or CDC, publishes suggestions for physical activity; based on those, I'm trying to get 2 hours and 30 minutes each week of vigorous-intensity aerobic activity, and also do weight training muscle-strengthening activities 2 days a week. I'm doing the weight training at the inexpensive and convenient gym at my workplace twice a week; it provides a nice break to the stressful day at the office.

The weekly aerobic activity I'm trying to get through my new school and, one weekend day a week, a jog, run and/or sprint session. This schedule would allow me one day of rest a week (probably Mondays).

At the moment, I'm going to two one-hour group classes a week at the new school. The classes are quite vigorous, as my prior school's group classes were, though there are of course lots of differences in how the classes are vigorous.

Also, my new school offers a half-hour private lesson each week as part of its curriculum. I'm hoping that these private lessons will be a way for me to learn quickly.

There's a lot to learn. This new school approaches things differently, starting even with how you place your feet in the basic stance. We train in orthodox and southpaw stances, which is so new to me I was laughing at how awkward I felt in the southpaw stance. The school places more emphasis on wheel kicks, hook kicks and side kicks than I'm accustomed to; it has different ways to place the hands defensively than I'm accustomed to.

And all this I've noticed in only a week.

Whether I can, at 53, learn how to DO all these new things is another question--I'm not sure I have the flexibility to do all these new kicks well, for instance. And in my darker moments I wonder if, even with private lessons, I just can't learn how to move properly in stand-up sparring at this age.

My hope, however, is that, with the private lessons, I can reach new levels of skill and knowledge, while also finding new friends--without losing or forgetting the old friends.

Wish me luck!

The 50-Plus Martial Artist: "Older, Wiser, Slower"

A fascinating article in The Wall Street Journal last week was called, "Older, Wiser, Slower: After 50, Avid Athletes Find That to Stay Healthy, They Must Let Go of the Need to Win." (Note, this may be a subscription website.)

I felt relief from some unrealistic expectations after reading it.

The gist of the article is encapsulated in this quote from a 51-year-old famous triathlete: "If you have to go as fast at 50 as you did at 20, you will grind yourself into the ground and become stressed out, bitter and unhealthy."

It goes on to argue there are satisfactions and thrills to athletics in one's 50s that don't require more than an aging body can give.

These messages don't get a lot of air time in some corners of athletic culture. What I've heard more often is: "Age is only a number."

I find that, while I feel as competitive spirited as ever, I can't match the speed of a well-trained, athletic 20- or 30-something in sparring. It also takes me longer to recover my breath after sparring a round.

And if I make myself injured, frustrated and miserable trying to match that level of performance, I'm eventually going to give up something that has brought me health, friendship and joy.

I truly think I can continue learning in martial arts, and finding ways to improve what I do, for years to come. But I believe that to do so, I need to take the wise route of recognizing limitations, and striving for achievable goals.

Martial Arts and Fitness in Middle Age

I know it's obvious that martial arts promote fitness, but there are a lot of counterexamples. I've met black belts who came equipped with dangerous-looking beer bellies--dangerous to their own health, that is.

I recently signed up with the gym at my workplace, which costs the incredibly low sum of $7 a week. I got an evaluation coming into it, which gave me a quick reading on how I'm doing in terms of fitness. Martial arts are my primary way of exercising.

The results: My cardio signs were excellent--resting pulse of 57, recovery pulse of 80 per minute after three minutes of a timed stepping exercise. Disturbingly, the tester said about half the people he tests can't finish the 3-minute step test.

He told me, whatever I'm doing in terms of cardio, keep it up. Interesting that it's a very anaerobic workout, not typically aerobic (i.e. my classes involve bursts of high activity, and then rest, rather than steady activity like jogging or an aerobics class).

For strength testing, I did 30 military-style pushups; the tester was looking for 11 to 16. I did 100 crunches, he was looking for something like 20 or 25.

I do have some stiffness, particularly in the hamstrings, quads and rotator cuff, the tester said. And my body fat percentage (calculated with calipers) is high--24%, which to me sounds horrible, like I'm a stuffed Christmas turkey or something. The top of the recommended range was 23%, the tester said. Online, I've seen all sorts of ranges suggested.

(My wife thought it was hilarious that I got stressed out because my body fat was one percentage point high.)

The gym manager suggested a half-hour weight program twice a week, and stretching the quads and hamstring twice a day when I'm warm (one AM option--stretch in the shower). I've never consistently lifted weights, so I'm enthused about trying that out, especially since a half-hour workout is all I can spare at the office. And it doesn't take time away from home.

One argument I've often heard is that when you build muscle, you burn fat. Maybe weight lifting (and a little more discipline in eating) will reduce that body fat percentage.

When I'm 53

I turned 53 today. I went to work, and came home to a tasty home-cooked meal of roast chicken and dressing by my wife and daughter. I celebrated my birthday by doing 53 push-ups and 53 sit-ups.

I'm taking the day off tomorrow to take care of some things I just can never get to while I'm at work. Tomorrow I'll make up the martial arts class I missed tonight.

An Old Familiar Feeling

There's good news and bad news today.

The good news is that I feel my conditioning and grappling are getting better and better, even after my successful completion of the black belt test two weeks ago.

The bad news is that my right knee--the "good" one--is giving me pain and stiffness with normal bending. It's definitely not an ACL tear, thank goodness, because the knee is strong and stable.

But when I tore my ACL two and a half years ago, I also tore my meniscus, which gave me pain and stiffness when bending my leg--similar to what I'm feeling now. In recovery terms, it was a sideshow to the ACL.

I'm probably going to call the doctor who did my ACL surgery to have him look at it.

I don't recall a moment when I hurt my knee recently. I figure it was in the run-up to the test or the test itself. I recall telling my friend Larry that my knee was hurting a bit the week after the test, and he said, yeah, sometimes you get hurt at the test but don't realize it because of all the adrenaline.

The running, specifically sprinting, I've been doing has been good for my cardio. On Saturday, I sprinted early in the morning, then took two hours of classes beginning at noon. My quads were sore, and my right knee; but I held up fine through the classes. In grappling I twice got the back of Warren, one of the sampais my age, who was exhausted, and I got him to tap out once. Usually Warren gives me a really hard time in grappling.

But today, Sunday, I changed my plans and I'm not sprinting. I'm worried that it will make my knee worse.

There does seem to be a cycle, particularly in middle age, where you get near the peak of your condition, and some injury forces you to start over again.

We'll see what happens this time. At the least, a meniscus tear (if that's what it is) isn't nearly as big a problem as an ACL.

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.

Middle-Aged Milestone

On Monday, I will reach (celebrate isn't quite the right word) a middle-aged milestone: I'll be getting my first colonoscopy.

I'm actually overdue by two and a half years--I was supposed to get my first at 50.

From everything I hear, the procedure itself isn't bad--I'll be knocked out. But I'm not looking forward to tomorrow, Sunday, when I can't eat anything, and eventually will have to start drinking junk that clears out my inner plumbing. Newspaper columnist Dave Barry once described it something like: Have you ever watched the space shuttle take off? Well, imagine your body is the space shuttle.

Two hours of martial arts class today, following one hour each of the preceeding three days. I had to finish by doing 100 pushups, which I completed in four sets, not the three I hoped. My arms feel like they're made out of lactic acid.

Doctor, Doctor, Give Me The News

I'm going to one of those seven-day-a-week doc offices today, Sunday, because it's been four weeks since my cold and I still have sinus pressure, congestion, a cough, and low energy. I suspect sinusitis piggybacked on my cold. The continuing low energy has made it hard to do more than minimal training.

I like my regular doctor, but she doesn't have office hours on the weekend, and it's very disruptive to try to take time off from work to see her during the week.

Meanwhile, in other doctor news, my buddy The Hulk got two MRIs of his left knee and leg done AFTER his black belt test. His leg was swollen, his leg kept buckling, and he had knee pain going into the test. Turns out he had a torn meniscus in two places; a torn ACL; a bone cyst; and possibly a torn hamstring. He took his grappling test despite this damage, and was told he didn't pass because, once again, at age 60, he was relying too much on his tremendous physical strength and not enough on technique. He was in pain throughout the test. He was understandably disappointed by the results. I can't blame him, he should get a frickin' medal just for showing up and not getting submitted.

He can't get his ACL operation done now because he's the owner of a business, and given the economy, the business could go under if he weren't there interacting with and retaining clients every work day. He might get a meniscus operation since the recovery is much faster.

Here's my hat off to The Hulk for his courage and persistence. I hope he takes care of himself.

Mind Over Genes

There's an article in the NY Times this morning about a company offering a test claiming to help determine what kind of athletics would best suit a child - speed/power or endurance. It has to do with a variant of a gene that makes a protein found in fast-twitch muscles.

The article is full of caveats - there is an Olympic long-jumper from Spain who has the "wrong" gene variant for his sport, for instance, and hundreds of genes are probably involved in setting the foundations for successful athletes. And there are lots of cautionary quotes in the story about narrowing down a child's options for sports.

But I'm sure the website of the testing company, atlasgene.com, will get a million hits today.

In a way, I'd be curious to know if, by taking up martial arts late in life, I "wasted" a lot of potential - or whether, by contrast, I would have always run into pretty severe limitations.

But I also think it might undermine me psychologically to find out that, say, I don't really have the right gene variants for top fast-twitch muscles. Maybe it would make me work less hard on push-ups, for instance, making it easier to say, "Oh, I'll never be able to do enough."