Conversations with my Side Kick
Very recently, I set a goal to return to martial arts after a long 22 year hiatus.
For a little background, I began my training at the age of 5 in the Korean style of Tang Soo Do. This traditional martial art has much to offer when it comes to kicks. Vertical and flying side kicks, crescent kicks, roundhouse kicks to the height of my dad’s head. You name it, I did it.
One of my favorite things that I liked to do as a kid was to have my brother hold a punching bag for me while I set up a tower of books and pillows that reached to the level of my solar plexus. I would then proceed to run a couple feet, leap over the unsteady tower with a flying side kick, and send my brother tumbling back into the furniture behind him. Questionable for my brother? Yes. Extraordinarily divine for my sense of self? Absolutely!
Needless to say, kicking for me was super fun and empowering. Movement was, and still is my most powerful form of communication. Growing up as a child who was painfully shy with a few learning setbacks is probably why I loved (and needed) Martial Arts so much. It provided the outlet I needed for a sense of community and expression.
The Obsession Returns
I don’t regret much in my life, but I do regret leaving martial arts at the age of 15. Fast-forward 22 years later, and I sit surrounded by a list of my 1-year, 3-year, and 5-year goals. Within that list, martial arts is visible in the fitness section of all three of those plans.
I recently did a short study on Bruce Lee as a peak performer. Like for many present day martial artists, and even non-martial artists, Bruce Lee was a childhood hero of mine. I remember sitting in front of the TV with my eyes glued to the screen completely hypnotized by his kinetic confidence.
This deeper dive into the life of a martial arts legend re-awoke an immense desire to start training again. But first, and to my partner’s dismay, I needed to watch as many Kung Fu movies in a two week period as my schedule allowed, and then force myself as low into the center splits as possible.
Will the Side Kick return?
I needed my side kick back, and it became all I could think about. I figured if I could get low in the center splits again, then I could throw a near vertical kick the way I did when I was 13.
So, what did I need to do in order to achieve this in 30-days?
Well, instead of considering what would work best for my age and current level of conditioning, I decided to think of myself as having no limitation, and took the liberty of setting my own outlandish workout routine for this particular goal.
After all, what could go wrong?
Shameful to say, I nearly wrecked myself. And it began about a week after setting this stubborn intention while sitting on the couch one morning drinking my coffee and doing some reading.
Suddenly, and out of nowhere, my legs started to go numb. My back began to sieze, and all I could hear was my body saying, “What in god’s name are you doing!?”
Loud and clear, this was an indication that I was training improperly and way over doing it. It also became clear to me that obsessing about going back to how things used to be often leads to an immense amount of pain and disappointment.
It’s a common human desire to return to the good ol’ days of <insert happy feeling or accomplishment here>. And while achieving those happy feelings or accomplishments aren’t necessarily wrong or unattainable, it’s just that going about achieving them may look a bit different now than it did back then.
Change
Chinese Medicine is all about change, transformation, and growth. It’s about movement forward, not movement back. It’s about striving, but in a way that encompasses longevity for our unique situation, during this unique point in time.
After a week of doing a ridiculous amount of deep stretching and kicking, I got to the point where my side kick actually lowered in height. My hips ached 24/7, and I felt the resistance in my legs to the point that they wanted to lock each time I lifted my foot higher than my knee.
Was risking my physical health worth it, when there were probably better and more sustainable alternatives? And why did I want to even lift my foot over my head when it is completely impractical in a real life self-defense situation?
I’ll admit that this lofty desire may have been my first experience with the fear of aging. Yearning for my youth, that I am only moving further and further away from. Or perhaps I was in need of an ego boost. All I know is that the intention was a bit disconnected from my reality, and also from my true authentic need.
It took me a minute, but I finally realized that I wanted to return to martial arts because I yearned for more connection and community. Now that I’ve switched the wine for water, my needs in terms of socializing and recreation have changed. Gone are the days of endless wine bottles in trendy restaurants and friend’s homes, now is the time for mindful and sober connection. And for me, this comes more naturally through physical activity and exercise.
The thrill and achievement felt with throwing a vertical side kick can come with other, probably more nourishing activities. I’ll still work on the height of my kicks. However, I don’t have to get it all done and over my head by next week. Or even next year for that matter. Perhaps, just 0.1 degrees higher at a time with the acceptance that my body will move in the way that it needs to at my age.
After these important realizations, I’m excited to see what the older and wiser me will experience in the Martial Arts realm. More appreciation of the philosophy. More mindfulness in the kinesthetics. More understanding of using the breath with movement, and regulation of internal energy. All I know is that reaching for what was behind me will only stunt my growth. Instead, I yearn for all of those new possibilities ahead.
