There are days when it feels like I stole my black belt, that it was given to me out of pity because I’ve been around so long and always help out, and not because I have any actual skill. I am pretty sure that pity gradings are a thing.
There are days when it feels like I stole my black belt, that it was given to me out of pity because I’ve been around so long and always help out, and not because I have any actual skill. I am pretty sure that pity gradings are a thing.
Whether it is the federation that supports its instructors with consistent training by bringing in instructors from around the world, the sempai that took the time to train you on a Sunday morning on a rugby field when the dojo was closed, the junior that asks the questions that you hadn’t considered, or the Sensei who works tirelessly to keep the dojo open so that you can train with others – no one becomes a martial artist alone.
After a lesson covering some of the basic principles, gumguards were shoved into mouths and half-gloves pulled on. We lined up, the timers began, and so went 150 minutes of fighting. Here are ten things I learned while getting the shit kicked, punched and thrown out of me. Take them as dojo advice, or life lessons – I think the two are inseparable.
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