Never Quit

I have a confession to make. I've been out of work for seven months (courtesy of some health issues I've previously discussed, but I go back at the end of September), and I'm not happy with the way I look. This morning on a doctor's scale I weighed a whopping 205 lbs., way up from my sparring heyday of 178. (I used to be 5 ft 10; I'm currently 5 ft 9. I have a medium frame.) A lot of this is just due to my inactivity, but also, to my defense, it's age related. I turn 63 in October, and my body just doesn't do what it used to do. Not just willful physical activity, whether it's performing job duties or exercising in my basement gym/dojo, but also trying to keep my weight down, recover from minor injuries, and incentive to do otherwise menial tasks. I find myself actually having to push myself to go on my daily one-mile walk. My strength and stamina in the gym over the years has diminished significantly, and when I confided this to a friend, he replied, "why bother pumping iron if you just keep getting weaker?"

"Alright," I replied. "What do you suppose would happen if I just completely stopped working out?"

Stopping my workouts is not an option for me. Perish the thought! But naturally I have to modify a routine to accommodate my pre-existing injuries. And as of late I need serious motivation—fortunately fate came to the rescue. The other day a co-worker texted me a bodybuilding routine Bruce Lee created in 1965, before he became a star cinematically (although by this time Lee was an in-demand martial arts instructor). This flow chart, I'm assuming, is a catalog of exercises to be performed in a single session. It's a list of mostly upper body/arm exercises, but I really like how the first item is squats. Never skip leg day. I'm glad Lee knew his priorities.

As Lee's status as a star rose he continued his self created bodybuilding routine that emphasized both strength and muscular endurance. At  5 ft 7 1⁄2 and 140 lbs, Lee was not not an overtly formidable presence. But his devotion to fitness paid off. Chuck Norris once said that Lee was, pound for pound, the strongest human being he has ever trained with.

While Lee was making gains in the gym, he began to adjust his diet and cardio exercises that accelerated his body's ability to burn fat. In the 1965 photo above, I would guess his body fat percentage to be about 12. The pic below taken from Enter The Dragon (1973) depicts a much leaner version of Lee, evident with a marked increase in muscular definition and striations. I'd put his body fat here at about 7 percent. Understand that this level of body fat is quite low, even for an athlete, and is very difficult to achieve without resorting to sports enhancing drugs. (There is no respectable evidence that Lee used steroids or the like to achieve his physique. I'm also fairly confident this photo has not been enhanced.)

In the 1960s, bodybuilding routines were considered taboo for some sports, especially boxing. There are traditional exercises in karate that emphasize grip strength and isometric tension, but little else that bear any semblance to a modern muscle building regimen. 

As a martial artist Lee was ahead of his time in a few ways (e.g., he loathed the concept of styles as he saw them as inherently dogmatic), and embraced modernity, innovation, and common sense. However, several years later, Lee was training with weights and endured a serious back injury that incapacitated him for some time. (A detailed account of this can be found in this article.) Lee was about 30 when this happened, and somehow plowed through this and continued with his movie career until his untimely death from an allergic reaction to a pain killer (for a headache) just a few years later. I sustained a similar, albeit less severe injury to my back performing barbell squats when I was 36. At the time, I was working for the same company I'm at now, didn't see a doctor, and didn't miss a single day of work. I was lucky, the problem eventually resolved itself. Youth has its advantages. An injury like that now would likely put me out on permanent disability. 

These days I still train when I'm up to it, but I don't do barbell squats or heavy lifting anymore. And definitely no sparring with someone I don't know. With age comes wisdom.

Toxic Masculinity

There was a movie a few years back called The Art of Self Defense. Despite the unassuming title, the film explores the pitfalls of encountering the wrong dojo to train at. The lead character is a milquetoast pushover who's afraid of his own shadow. After getting beaten and robbed he decides he's had enough and ends up taking karate lessons from a deranged sensei who encourages his new charge to be a violent psychopath. The student takes his misguided teachings into the real world with predictable results. I won't spoil things by revealing more, but not surprisingly, the story does not end well. Cultish behavior is nothing new in the martial arts, and with the advent of social media, young men are finding inspiration in the rather vile corners of the internet. 

My son asked me recently if I ever heard of a retired kickboxing/MMA competitor named Andrew Tate. I hadn't, so with a little digging I found that after Tate retired from competition he started to monetize online courses on how to get rich and "male-female interactions." His Hustler's University turned out to be a pyramid scheme targeting young men who were buying into his hype to become an alpha male. An alpha is the apex of male aggression and dominance hierarchy in the animal kingdom. Primatologist Robert Sapolsky has studied this in non-human primates and its relation to the highly stratified social structure of baboons*. In humans, being an alpha male is associated with narcissism, entitlement and even misogyny. In layman's terms, human alpha males are highly predisposed to just being assholes.

Tate's net worth supposedly puts him in the neighborhood of 50 million USD, but has since been kicked off numerous social media platforms (where he earns most of his money) for inciting violence and dehumanizing speech, particularly aimed at women. As of this writing, Tate sits in a jail cell in Romania awaiting a judge's decision regarding Tate's (and three others') involvement in a human trafficking scheme using women to create pornography for profit, among other charges including rape. I don't know if Tate's years as a world champion martial arts competitor led to his self-indulgent dysfunctional worldview of male dominance. Maybe he got messed up as a kid. A long held psychology axiom states that events that occur during childhood can reveal themselves in unpredictable ways later in life. I doubt that an undertaking in a traditional martial art style during his formative years would've put him on the right path (budo), but who knows? Would an early-life intervention have made a difference in a guy like Tate?

Jason Wilson runs a youth program for troubled boys in Detroit called The Cave of Adullam Transformational Training Academy, a quasi-martial arts facility that "is not a martial arts school but a Transformational Training Academy." Wilson, the chief instructor who cites a background in jiu-jitsu, judo, and kempo (but doesn't hold rank in any of these styles), teaches young men in a traditional dojo-setting the values needed to become an upright man and a decent citizen. Wilson muses how some martial artists can attain a black belt in their chosen style, but remain a white belt in the game of life.

"When I first started the CATTA, there were many “Scared Straight” programs in Michigan, and I had even participated in a couple", says Wilson. "However, I quickly discovered that inflicting trauma will never help a boy release it but instead teach him to suppress it. Nowadays, you’ll be hard-pressed to find a Scared Straight or Bootcamp program because discipline without love is ineffectual."

Maybe that's the antidote to toxic masculinity in young men: The understanding that the best and even worst of us have an innate need to love and to be loved. And the sooner the better. As The Beatles famously sang, "Love is all you need."

Happy Holidays and Happy New Year!

*Robert M. Saplolsky 2017. Behave: The Biology of Humans at Our Best and Worst. Penguin Press.

Spinal Health, Meditation, and Aging Gracefully

Recently an attorney admonished a high profile political figure for not having the "courage and spine" to commit to what could be construed as a treasonous act. This is relevant, as being upright is considered moralistic, a hallmark of martial arts philosophy. Notwithstanding the clever use of metaphors, having a strong spine is essential for overall physical health. I found this out at my job about two months ago when I attempted to lift a modestly heavy container onto a hand truck causing excruciating pain in my back. An MRI has revealed two herniated discs causing nerve impingements that make work (for now) impossible. In the meantime, a pair of steroid epidurals has eased some of my pain, hopefully with lasting results.

In a previous post I've talked about my earlier diagnosis with scoliosis (spine curvature) in a positive way; how the spinal rotation in my back may have actually aided my efforts to perform spin-kicks. When I tell other practitioners this, I'm usually met with incredulity. They think I'm nuts. I'm just trying to look on the bright side. It's a coping mechanism. But as I enter my 62nd year on this realm, making lemonade out of lemons is becoming trickier. I have scoliosis, herniated discs, and an arthritic spine, something I don't relish as I approach my retirement years. Forrest Morgan, author of Living the Martial Way, divulged in an interview that degenerative arthritis is the reason for his cessation in martial arts training, though he still enjoys low-impact cardio and weight training for fitness. I'm currently doing neither.

When I told a fellow karate-ka about my blown out discs, he said to me, in all sincerity, it likely occurred because when I meditate I may be concentrating too hard on my hara. The hara (or dantian), considered the seat of power (ki) in Japanese martial arts and the site of the third chakra in Indian mysticism, roughly corresponds to the physical location of the lumbar spine injury that is wreaking havoc on my ability to go to work or basically do anything else.

Who knows, maybe I am meditating the wrong way. Is that even possible? When Western medicine first encountered meditation in the early twentieth century it was posited that seizures, psychosis, and even death could occur to the overly eager neophyte navel-gazer. I have no plans to give up my regimen of meditation, however, my future is uncertain. One euphemism for karate is "self-defense"; I need to take care of myself. We all do. I have bills to pay, but I need to tend to my health, and I find myself at a crossroads. I'm not even sure what that means for me. Time will tell. I'll have to pick some destination, no matter how uncertain it may be right now. As Yogi Berra once offered, "When you get to the fork in the road, take it."

Maturity

I remember reading somewhere that the measure of one's character could be determined in the execution of a punch or kick. That sounds like a bit of a stretch, although early Chinese thought implies a correlation between chi and morality. At any rate, a certain amount of wisdom is expected to be developed alongside of one's advancement in their art. Dan denotes a black belt rank, but another definition suggests a coming of age, not only chronologically, but in maturation. Children hold black belts, but they are not yudansha nor should they be regarded as such. Most schools will actually retest young black belts for shodan when they arrive at a certain age, usually 16.

In his book Nature and the Human Soul, Bill Plotkin describes a social ill that he calls patho-adolescence: adults - especially those in a position of authority and power - who possess the mental and emotional acuity of teenagers. Think of certain political figures that have headlined the news recently. Are there any sensei or black belts that you've come across that could be labeled as immature? The consummate martial artist should have a developed sense of responsibilty and self-control. One instructor I knew told me that he doesn't spar with his students out of fear of killing someone. I suggested a career in Special Forces. He didn't get it.

When I speak of maturity in the martial arts, it's not stoical indifference to joy or grief - believe me, there's plenty of both to be found in the dojo - but rather integrating wholeness within the range of human emotions. Some high ranking instructors that I've met mix a good deal of humor into their lessons. "Sometimes you have to entertain your students" a colleague of mine once said. It's good to lighten up once in a while. Being childlike is not the same as being childish.

Cane Fighting

A British martial arts instructor has been teaching senior citizens the art of the cane. Apparently his lessons have paid off when an elderly woman he teaches managed to fend off the attack of two muggers. "She went to the police station because she was worried about having hurt the boys," said instructor Kevin Garwood, who has been teaching traditional martial arts since the 70s in addition to his walking stick self defense class for about three years. The focus of Garwood's classes are awareness of one's surroundings, planning a route home, and skills that include simple choke holds, joint locks and throws that all incorporate the use of the walking stick. "Before you go out of the house, think about the route. Then even if you are walking slowly, if you are positive and your brain is engaged, you look less like a victim," said Garwood.

Because the elderly tend to be targets for crime, the walking stick makes for a convenient and convincing weapon without appearing too conspicuous. I've detailed some other handy weapons that are generally concealed. The cane as an effective fighting weapon is nothing new and has made appearances in a number of cultures. In Portugal, the fighting cane is called the jogo do pau. In France, savateurs train with la canne. Cannistes wear protective gear and fencing helmets in matches. A similar weapon in Japan is the jo, a wooden staff about four feet long.

At any rate, if you're planning to go out and about with your trusty walking stick in public, do so without any fanfare. As Teddy Roosevelt once advised, "Speak softly and carry a big stick."

*See also:
Way of the Short Staff by Michael P. Garofalo. Exhaustive research and links on cane fighting techniques, history and styles.

Aged To Perfection

Years ago I remember watching a broadcast of The Tonight Show that featured a 90-year-old woman who had recently accomplished the amazing feat of earning her black belt in karate. She came onto the set wearing her full gi and at the end of her interview with host Johnny Carson, proceeded to break some boards with a series of powerful front snap kicks. What I found even more impressive than this woman's physical skills was her lucid demeanor; her mind and resolve were as sharp and sound as her body. Can something like training in the martial arts actually retard the aging process?

Exercise has been proven to extend longevity in people. Too much exercise is actually detrimental to health - this too has been proven. Japanese judo coaches found that when their competitors cut down on their previously relentless training regimens, they performed better in matches. The Germans have developed de-conditioning programs for their Olympic athletes because it was discovered that at their level of performance, arthritis and cardiomyopathy (heart enlargement) resulted from the drive for the gold. In a rather disturbing survey, Olympic athletes from around the world were asked if given the choice, would they prefer to relinquish competing and live long or win a gold medal and die young. The majority chose the latter. For them the agony of defeat is a more terrifying prospect than the inevitabilty of death.

The Wise Old Man is an idealized archetype in most cultures that dates back to antiquity. In the East, the elderly are generally revered and held as bearers of experience and adepts of skillful living. Examples of this can be found in the martial arts: Aikido founder Morihei Ueshiba and the fictitious Mr. Miyagi from The Karate Kid movies to name two. Some of those stories about the O'Sensei make Miyagi look like a hack and should be taken with a grain of salt. In contrast to his message of peace and harmony, Ueshiba was reputed to be a brutal taskmaster, particularly with his uchi deshi (live-in students). Miyagi made poor Daniel-san perform seemingly endless mundane tasks to develop his character and motor skills. Plus he got alot of nice work done around his yard just for teaching karate. Wise old guys get that way because they've figured out how to deal with the young.