About once a week, I get thrown on the floor. And I pay good money for that to happen. Have been for years.
Most martial arts students I’ve encountered are afraid of being thrown on the floor, even if it’s the gentlest and most controlled of simple one-step takedowns. It’s scary and weird and unnatural. After over a decade of practicing taekwondo, I’m fairly comfortable with it, even though every once in a while when I’m mid-air I have that existential moment seen on those “so you’re probably wondering how I ended up here” memes before my body crashes into the mat.
Recently, after missing a few of my black belt self-defense class that’s heavy on the throws and takedowns I showed up to the mat bright and chipper ready for action. The instructor rattled off what we were going to practice and started with the warm ups. After warming up, we’d be practicing throws.
Sheer terror coursed through my body while doing my jumping jacks along with the thought “I DON’T WANT TO BE THROWN.” Just good old-fashioned stark white horror at the thought of being picked up and slammed down onto my back.
I do scary things all the time like frequent public speaking or attending meetings with top executives in my company or driving in the Dallas Fort-Worth Metroplex. What’s so scary about a controlled ride through the air with skilled, trustworthy people?
I had to remind myself that we weren’t doing anything I hadn’t done before. And even if we learned some new delightful way of cutting off each other’s breathing or hurting a joint or tossing a body through the air it was all going to be controlled and safe. And more importantly, it was going to be fun.
I don’t like going through life scared, and I don’t like spending my time doing things that are unpleasant. So I look for the positive. I look for the fun.
Without realizing it, that’s how I’ve tricked myself into doing scary, maybe unpleasant-at-least-at-first things. Public speaking means I get to share information I believe in with people I care about. Working with executives means I get to learn about the inner workings of the company, demonstrate my potential, and learn new skills. Learning how to throw someone may be useful in a bar fight or since, I don’t go to bars, if a fight breaks out at Aldi midday on a Saturday. Whatever, who cares, it’s fun.
Sometimes I don’t have a big intellectual breakthrough with my taekwondo antics. Sometimes I just have to remind myself that this is all a game and I might as well have fun while I’m here.
After 20 years of Tkd, I decided it wasn’t fun anymore. I made the choice to be gentle with my body. It was a really hard choice to not fight anymore. I assure you I fight in other ways. My female masters needed multiple hip and knee replacements. It’s a world of its own. I need other surgeries. Anyway, your story is you, my story is me. I guess I’m just sharing as well. I read your book years back and enjoy your posts.
Thank you for sharing. Everyone has the right to choose to stay on one path or choose another. There’s a little bit of a culty shunning of people who quit martial arts (or other things), but if it’s not bringing you joy it’s not worth it. I’m glad you did what’s best for you. Thanks for reading the book and the blog. ❤️