Dealing with Pain – A Martial Art’s Frequent Companion – Part VIII

For as long as I can remember, my mind has been at war with my body. I’ve always felt my body was too weak, too whinny. It would often balk at delivering everything my mind asked of it. If I wanted to do one thousand reverse punches per day, it would not cooperate. It would complain throughout the entire process and try to quit before I was done. My response to this would often be to make it do even more reps, or do each with even more power, as if training an unruly or lazy animal.

I always saw my mind as the driver and my body merely the machine. Although it was a wondrous machine – the harder you work it, the stronger it becomes, unlike non-biological machines – it was a machine nonetheless.

While sparring one of my black belt students one night many years ago, our receptionist asked me a question. I looked over at her and started to hold up my hand to stop my sparring partner for a second. But he had already launched a kick. It caught me on the end of my ring finger and bent it all the way back to my wrist. The joint broke and the skin split open, exposing the bone and connective tissue. Students gathered quickly around for a look. “Is that the bone?” one asked, then cringed away. I didn’t say anything. I just pulled out the handkerchief I had tucked in my gi, wrapped it around the bleeding joint, and continued sparring. They were amazed but it was nothing for a martial artist, just part of our job description.

I saw it as a learning opportunity for my students. Teachers teach even when they’re not “teaching”. They teach some of the most important lessons through their personal behavior, how they carry themselves and how they lead their lives. They teach negative things by smoking, drinking, abusing drugs, womanizing, violence, cockiness, bragging, promoting themselves to higher ranks and titles, and so on. And they teach positive things via humility, hard work, mental and physical toughness, focus, love of the martial arts, living moral and ethical lives, and so on. This was a chance to show my students what a martial artist does when he’s injured.

I always said “A fair amount of masochism never hurt the quality of a martial artist.” But this is true of most physically challenging activities.

While a graduate student at Stanford, I was an assistant coach for the swim and water polo teams. I also worked with the track team and individual athletes on the football, basketball, and baseball teams. All of the top athletes I ever met or worked with – including national and Olympic champions – had this quality in common. They worked harder than anyone else, focused on areas in need of improvement, and saw pain as a welcomed constant companion. If asked about their skills, they never did as many martial arts today do, brag about their talents. They always spoke only about what they weren’t doing up to their standards or desires.

At 68, I now cut my body far more slack than I ever did during my over 55 previous years in the martial arts. In actually, it has probably earned a bit of respect.

Thanks for following my humble ramblings.