Martial arts has played an intrinsic role in my life for as long as I can remember.
Sometimes it gets put on the back burner, sometimes it’s that sheepish thing I describe to my friends, how every night I dress up in skintight spats with an aggressively colorful rash guard to go kick and choke other people.
Sometimes, it’s been a pivotal wedge from which I’ve been able to completely redirect my life in a more positive direction. While it’s place in my life shifts with time, martial arts has undeniably, irrevocably changed my life for the better.
I am originally from a small town in Alabama full of small town things like rampant football rivalries, little league politics, and an abundance of small town bullies looking for any petty joy they could prey upon. I could talk about how my dad enrolled me into tae kwon do at the age of five and how I then dazzlingly struck fear into said bullies’ hearts with my sweet jump-spinning kicks and fearsome kiyahs…but I never got that seriously bullied, and growing up doing martial arts I got lucky to grow into my confidence early. Instead, I will tell a different story.
At the ripe age of 22, I had finally completed my service to the US Army and was living in Texas. In my grand 22-year-old wisdom, I had decided that after years of 4 AM physical training, I had worked out enough for a lifetime.
Instead, I would drink entire 6-packs of beer in a sitting while eating as many cheeseburgers as one possibly could. The problem with this plan was that, I very quickly got fat.
While the weight gain was a problem, it wasn’t my biggest problem. I had spent four years in the military, and for those four years I’d made friends bound with the unshakable bonds of service, a clear and concise mission, purpose of what I should be doing with my life, and lifestyle that only those who have served could understand.
While I was ecstatic to be able to start my life over again as a civilian, by losing all of those aforementioned things, I suddenly felt cut adrift.
While pleasurable, a diet of beer and cheeseburgers surprisingly isn’t a good plan if you’re trying to find brotherhood or meaningful fulfillment. I was out of shape, lonely, purposeless and my confidence had taken a big hit because of that.
At some point, I realized there was a problem, but I didn’t know how deep it ran. I simply wanted to be in better shape.
I remembered the early days of martial arts and how happy I’d been practicing them. So with no small amount of apprehension, I dotted the i’s on a yearlong contract for an MMA gym.
I walked in that first day with a shield of false bravado and brittle confidence. Afterall, I’d wrestled through highschool and competed for years in various forms of striking. Surely the six months of poor post-service choices couldn’t stop everyone from seeing the true warrior I was. This is what I whispered to myself as I sat nervously in my car waiting for my first martial arts class after almost 5 years.
I walked through the doors of the gym and then proceeded to have every person inside ragdoll me as if I had never trained a day in my life. Even worse, during the conditioning portion of class, the coach pushed me hard enough to throw up. MULTIPLE times.
My false shield of bravado having been completely shattered, I sat in my car still gasping for air and saw my reflection pale in the window. I smiled ruefully as something inside of myself whispered that this was a place I needed to be.
I left the gym that night bewildered and exhausted and upon waking up, I realized I couldn’t raise my arms over my head. Despite this, I wobbled to my computer to check the schedule and decided I would go back that night. For the first time since the military, I had something other than school or bills to focus on — a new set of goals I could achieve. This was eight years ago.
A seed of confidence
Leaving the military is an interesting thing; while you’re in, you make good friends quickly from the proximity and shared purpose. It was something I deeply missed. When you leave the service, there’s a feeling of alienation you get. It becomes harder to relate to those around you who haven’t experienced the military lifestyle — this is a major issue within the veteran community
Showing up to train every day to exhaustion and actively fighting was my bridge back from that alienation, it was a seed of confidence that only the sweat of training could water.
Now, being able to not throw up multiple times through training, I’ve regained confidence in myself and my martial arts ability. I was able to laugh about getting rag-dolled that first night, but I also wanted to train myself up so that wouldn’t happen again.
That scene repeated for an unfortunately long time. I’d get beat up, gasp for air, and rush to the trashcan to expunge the excess of cheeseburgers and bad decisions; but I’d always leave with a grin. (Whether from the simple act of training or from merely hanging out with these monsters who were “punishing” me for my bad health choices.)
As I continued to train, I got stronger, learned how to be on the offensive instead of just being a sentient punching bag, laugh with these crazy people who had their own journeys, and joined a new brotherhood full of training and camaraderie.
I got back into martial arts because I wanted to get back into shape and unintentionally filled the hole in my life that was community. While it took me a bit longer to figure out my career and what I wanted to do with this life, whenever I was unsure what direction I should go, I knew that martial arts were always there. Whenever I had doubts, I could just focus on simply showing up and getting better.
Martial arts have changed my life by giving me a physical and mental outlet, a direction to go when I’m unsure of what I should be doing next, a community of people who all have joined to strive to be better and a lot of laughs and mishaps along the way.
While I’m no longer jump spinning kicking 10-year olds with a fearsome battle cry, I’ve instead found a community where I can move with joy and be a part of when life gets uncertain.
