I am “Gatvol”... I am tired, if sensei’s were meant to be or wanted to be politicians they wouldn’t be trying to scrape a living off of teaching karate. I would train for free, but there are months where the only thing scraping me through is karate. The extra cash is what helps me survive… and I mean survive. I live off of a diet that averages on 1200 – 1400 unhealthy high carb cheap food type calories. (Maintenance is suggested at 2400 calories). I am tired of hearing how I should run my class from the parents. I am tired of being told how to run my competitions by my superiors. I am tired of the endless debates about WKF about the Olympics, I am tired of trying to determine whether knockdown, sport or traditional karate should be at the forefront… in all honesty? I want to give it all up, and train in my backyard. Alone. Where my dad taught me to skip and box from his wheelchair. On the old glass stand that I’ve trained on for the past couple of years. The patch of grass that my feet know where every thorn could possibly be, where I sprained my ankle in the holes the damned dog dug up. I am tired of it all!! And I want to quit!!! Like when I started karate and got 5 consecutive kicks to the head finally smashing me to the ground and into stairs. Or when I lost my first Kata bout. Or when my sensei said I’ll never be good at kata. When I trained my ass off, still not to be noticed. Like when I did Gankaku perfectly in warm-up and buggered it up on the competition floor. When I fought like my behind and lost my shot at victory. When I lost a girlfriend. When I failed an exam. I want to quit, like when a sensei hit me so hard on the chest I couldn’t breathe. Like when I cried at karate when a kid two years younger than me hit me in the face. Or when I cried at my first Mpumalanga trials. BUT then again… I’ve never gone to sleep hungry. I’m chubby not unhealthy. I have the most amazing students any sensei could ask for, and I’ve watched them grow and progress in ways their parents haven’t. My dad succeeded in teaching me to box and skip. I can’t do pull-ups but my hands are hard from trying all those times on the metal. My ankles have pains but are strong. I know 25 katas now. My sensei handed over his dojo to me. I can do gankaku and I can accept that I lost like a man in kumite. I knocked the sensei flat on his bum after he hit me. I don’t cry from shots in the face no more, and after crying like a baby at Mpumalanga trials I beat the kid 6 – 4 on the old sanbon system. I always am gatvol, I always feel like I’m about to quit, and then I wake up the next morning and have at it another time. Because I am a karate-ka.
Posted on: Thu, 20 Nov 2014 21:24:41 +0000
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