Funny how one's viewpoint changes every so often. It was just a short while ago that I used to crave as much free time as possible. All those people obsessed with extra-curricular activities, dance class, music lessons, painting, karate... I used to secretly think them chumps for wasting so much time running around when they could just as easily be putting their feet up and drinking cold piñacoladas.
But now, I can't bear the free time. The mind wanders, to places dark and hellish. And how can one stop their imagination from running amok? That's the point of having one, isn't it? That it should be unrestrained, wild even. But just now and then, i wish i had a nice, sturdy leash and a muzzle. At one time, the mere act of turning on the TV or indeed any sitcom, would be enough to simulate a lobotomy, albeit a temporary one. But alas, when you experience something long enough, the mind automatically learns to tune it out. So now, instead of sitting in silence and torturing myself, I do it with a nice background dialogue and laugh-track.
So we come to the other option, fill the day up to the plimsoll line with work, and hope that the only thing the mind is capable off by the end is to remember how to change into shorts, and crash into bed without missing it entirely. And whaddya know, it works. Not entirely, but well enough. After all, what in this universe has 100% efficiency?
So we have work from 9-6, french (for example) from 6-9, dinner, any time till midnight (assuming one remembers it), and then sleep the sleep of the virtuous.
Saturday night fever can also be put off. After all, dutiful men do allocate part of the week for "family time". And when one has family who never make demands, merely pees on your shirt, you are happy to visit as often as possible without becoming a nuisance.
Still, there are those brief times of repose, before sleep, during sleep, saturdays and sundays when one is without occupation. Surely one needs it, you might say. Not at all. There's still something you've missed out.
You drive to work, sit at a desk, drive to class, sit at a desk, drive home, sit at a desk. Where's the exercise? And no, acting out funny scenes in french class doesn't count. That's where the weekend classes come in.
Looking for a good workout?
Need to work off all that frustration instead of repressing it?
Join a Self-Defense class. Karate is so passé and, i hear, every joker with a few months experience starts his own Tae Kwon Do class. Thus the choice of Krav Maga. It appears to be the least well-known art. And that's good enough for me.
Frankly, my first choice was flying classes at the local flying club, but i hear that though the theory classes are inexpensive, the cost of acquiring the necessary minimum flight time to obtain a private license is quite a bit. Well, not really, but i can't spend quite so much right now.
The Physical
However, these classes are great. For three hours each every saturday and sunday morning, we are first made to exercise until we are ready to drop (though the word "exercise" sounds so tame compared to what we actually do). And my God, who knew there were so many innovative ways to exercise without equipment. I found muscles that I had not thought off since 8th standard biology. You know, with that skinless anatomy picture. And then, when it hurts just to blink, we start on the defense techniques of the day. They say it takes about 3600 repetitions of an action to embed it in muscle memory. 3600 correct repetitions. If you get it wrong, then it'll be another 7200. Half to unlearn and half to re-learn it right. So we lunge at each others with knives and sticks. We choke, headlock, throw down, push around and generally try to be mean bastards. Just to make it all more effective, we also try to get worked up (anger is the key, they say. Righteous anger).
First move: Block + stun. Second move: Most vulnerable point. Third move: most vulnerable point. Fourth Move: Is he still a threat? Then you're not doing it right.
All this interspersed with more random bouts of standard kicking and punching. Did you ever stop to think, do you actually know how to fight? To throw a punch? Sure we've all seen it on TV. And we all have images in our head of how we'd react in a fight. But when actually faced with an opponent, what do you do? When there are no rules, as there are in Karate, one simply does not know how to react. So i think this is a great idea. We all need to be in a real fight at least once, or as close as you can get. Just so that it's not an entirely unfamiliar situation when it does happen.
Speaking of which, the last part of the class. Stress test. We're dead tired. It's taking willpower just to keep moving. Now everyone forms a circle, and we each go into the center one by one. For a whole minute we have to defend ourselves. From anyone who cares to attack. It doesn't sound like much, does it? But it is well nigh impossible to keep going for a whole minute. I kid you not.
Which brings us to the true purpose of all this,
The Mental
Noone really expects you to fight off a dozen guys all by yourself. That's for someone with superpowers. No, the point here is to endure. You see one guy, two, a dozen surrounding you? The worst thing you can do is panic. Think. Think logically. What is the best chance of getting out? Possible without violence? No? Ok, now we have to fight. Show no fear. You're getting beaten down? Getting tired? Ignore it. Keep going, keep going, keep going. Keep getting up.
Watch 1:30 onwards.
See, our instructor often relates to us the philosophy behind this art. It's not about fighting. It's about being mentally strong. Never fight if you can help it. Violence is not the answer. His favorite saying is, "If you can kiss the guy and get away, kiss the guy. If you can get off by buying him a beer, do it.". Still not working? Give him your wallet, give him your watch, and be non-threatening. Is he insulting you? Walk away. Your life is more important than anything else.
Now, nothing else has worked. It's about to get physical. Let him come. Will mere pain be enough to discourage him? Put him down, don't break anything. But if you must, break a few somethings. End it as quickly as possible. He should no longer be in the mood to come at you. Now RUN. Away.
Of course, we are also told to be mindful of the consequences. Remember that you might be the one who ends up in jail.
Anyway, we end the class with some realistic sparring where, of course, anything goes.
For someone who has not done anything more physical than karate and skating class over a decade ago, this would be hell, wouldn't you imagine? Giving up weekend mornings. No rest and relaxation, except when you come back and collapse into your chair. Bruises all over, and everything hurting right up till the next class a week away. But no, it feels great. It feels better than great, dare i say it, awesome.
And you have to understand, it's more than just the testosterone surge of dressing in all black and learning to break body parts. It's the sense of achievement. Because I see people quitting left and right. People a lot fitter than me. It's just great to know that I can put up with all this and end the day smiling, with no regrets or resentment.
And lest you think i've turned into some kind of homicidal maniac. Not at all. I really hope that I never get into a fight again. I still walk away from confrontations. My first reaction is still to smile like an idiot. But I have this confidence that I've never had before in my life. Oh sure, i'm still a wreck about many other things, but I'll settle for starting off with at least a few good hours every week. Let's see where that takes us.
Oh, and i wanted to note, that of the 30+ students i have met during the course of this class, there was only one who was not a nice person. And only one who was there with the specific purpose of hurting himself. As for the rest of them... well they're a really great, and more importantly to me, nice, bunch of guys.
Continued in "Exercise 2"...
Anyway, we end the class with some realistic sparring where, of course, anything goes.
For someone who has not done anything more physical than karate and skating class over a decade ago, this would be hell, wouldn't you imagine? Giving up weekend mornings. No rest and relaxation, except when you come back and collapse into your chair. Bruises all over, and everything hurting right up till the next class a week away. But no, it feels great. It feels better than great, dare i say it, awesome.
And you have to understand, it's more than just the testosterone surge of dressing in all black and learning to break body parts. It's the sense of achievement. Because I see people quitting left and right. People a lot fitter than me. It's just great to know that I can put up with all this and end the day smiling, with no regrets or resentment.
And lest you think i've turned into some kind of homicidal maniac. Not at all. I really hope that I never get into a fight again. I still walk away from confrontations. My first reaction is still to smile like an idiot. But I have this confidence that I've never had before in my life. Oh sure, i'm still a wreck about many other things, but I'll settle for starting off with at least a few good hours every week. Let's see where that takes us.
Oh, and i wanted to note, that of the 30+ students i have met during the course of this class, there was only one who was not a nice person. And only one who was there with the specific purpose of hurting himself. As for the rest of them... well they're a really great, and more importantly to me, nice, bunch of guys.
Continued in "Exercise 2"...
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