Do you remember when I mentioned in a previous blog post what Shihan had said about getting out of a fight? If you don’t have any idea what I’m talking about then refer to Shihan’s own blog post here:

Read the final bullet in the takeaways portion:

“Real self defense training is hard! It hurts. You may get injuries. Sometimes it just plain sucks. Everyone at Kobukai should know and accept that.” – Shihan St. Hilaire

The feeling of dread and anxiety started creeping back around the peripheries of my mind as I left and are now alive and strong in me. Those from the Old Hombu Dojo in Shihan’s backyard know exactly what I am talking about. I recall a story Sempai Trey told me. He used to blast heavy metal music on the way over from his job to the dojo to psyche himself up for the savagery that would be inflicted on him. They all used to do it. Nobody should be walking into a Kobukai dojo with a skip in their step and in a jovial manner. I’m not saying you should not enjoy training. But if you wander in there easily and aimlessly you will be in for a rude awakening.

It has been a while since I felt this way. But it is back and this time it isn’t leaving. I can’t afford to let it…

It’s Thursday night on May 6, 2021. I had missed Tuesday’s class and nobody was pleased with my absence least of all myself. I remember Shihan telling me when we used to work together that “when you miss class you’re letting down your training partners.” I had no clue what he was talking about. I felt the full force of those words on Tuesday.

I drove there discussing techniques and training with Sempai Kyle on the phone.

No blaring underground electronica witch house today. Mistake #1. Outcome will become clear later.

Went into dojo in a high spirits. Mistake #2. Outcome: noticed by all.

Texting Sensei in the morning that I wanted to a lot of pushups and core strength exercise. Mistake #3. Outcome: Sensei: “Everyone thank Sri.” Followed by, “I hope we are rolling tonight,” and “I got him first.”

Admitting during one set of pushups that I did them all diamond. Mistake #4. “From now on you will ONLY do diamond pushups. You should know better, Sri.”

Mistake #5 and the most egregious of all: Be complacent and defend a technique like it’s play. Outcome: Get slammed on the back of my head by a meat-hook enough to see stars.

We were practicing punch – ura nage. I was defending. My opponent was told to punch me as hard and fast as he could – with Sensei’s brown minimalist MMA gloves (not because it is a streamlined design because it has very little padding so the power delivered is instantaneous and crushing). All the color drained from my face. If I wasn’t so blessed with an abundance of melanin I might have looked green but nobody would care anyway. “You are a brown belt,” was a little reminder that I should expect full speed and full force from an attack. My uke was told, “If he get hit it’s his own fault.”

The punch came I ducked, brought him down. “Do it again,” barked Sensei. Again, missile evaded and training partner grounded. This time Sensei told me to leave the dojo.

“Sir?” I must have looked perplexed. This isn’t an ordinary command. No one is asked to leave the dojo unless it is forever due to misconduct or they have completed a brown or black belt test and the latter was certainly not the case here tonight.

Calmly but firmly, “Go outside and walk far away outside of hearing distance.”

I did as I was told. But my thoughts belied my actions. This isn’t how a brown belt should have to be taught, was my first thought. Whatever they were talking about was definitely about me and not a good look for me. I was starting to feel ashamed. I must have done something terribly wrong. I felt deja vu from the train wreck that was my brown belt test. Have I learned nothing? As these and other thoughts were clanging around my head I heard in the distance Sensei’s voice – I couldn’t make out what he said but I figured this is my cue to return. I walked back into the dojo letting the sharp gravel painfully dig into my pampered undersoles of my feet. I’ll have to fix that at a later date.

Again, punch – ura nage. Okay, fine. At least I am in the dojo. But something’s up. That part is for sure. This time, after I successfully ducked it a blinding white light flashed in my mind’s eye and I felt what seemed like a brick hit the back of my head. I took my opponent down but I was now confused on a lot of fronts and a bit disoriented to boot. What just happened?

Then Sempai demonstrated what I did and Sensei pounded him on his lower back because I left my body behind and moved too slowly around the back. Finally, I did everything right. “See what a little motivation does?” Yes Sensei.

Attitude properly adjusted. Training hard sucks. Class sometimes feels terrible. But it is the closest thing to being in a real fight out there. I know because I have been there. And it never gets better. Not in the dojo and not out there. This is what I have accepted. This is how it should be. Anything short of this is inviting failure, serious bodily injury and possibly death. Who in their right mind would feel like joking around with this ever present and thick in the air? Who in their right mind would be thinking about what’s on TV tonight and what frozen dinner to thaw in the microwave when the very next technique could lead to a minor (or major) concussion? If you aren’t feeling these feelings then you’re doing something very wrong. Because what you are doing is not self-defense training. Go to dance class instead. I mean you are being taught by men and women that have seen several lifetimes worth of violence, cruelty and brutality and they are here to teach you how to not die. The very least you can do is to acknowledge that by being serious and alert that what you are learning is deadly and what you are subjecting yourself to is a great risk to yourself.

Don’t forget your psych-up MP3s again while you are driving to the dojo again.

Afterward:

If you notice in the dojo pictures when we pose we don’t smile. It isn’t because we are trying our darndest to look mean and suppress giggles. It’s because smiles don’t naturally arise. It is the incremental culmination of barbarity that weighs that thing down knowing that’s the attitude to not just win, but to survive and walk the planet another day versus having that being extinguished for you by someone that won’t even feel remorse afterward. Because that’s the only person that will be smiling. Terrible, isn’t it? If you agree that is terrible, then every class should feel terrible.