Horsham:
A Veteran Beginner's Martial Arts Notebook
"Is It Normal To Feel Like This?"
by Stuart Coupe (6th Ji)
August 2005
It's July 2003 and I'm sitting in my doctor's surgery. My health turns out to be fine but the Doc's parting shot echoes around my head long after I leave the room. "And what is it you do to keep fit?" she asks.
I lie about my healthy diet but know she won't buy the fact that my last game of football was at age eleven some twenty five years previously. " You might want to consider taking up something," she says.
Under her smile I read a seriousness that I can no longer ignore. I accept the fact that avidly following Mansfield Town Football Club hardly constitutes anything approaching participation in sport, or, come to think of it, approaching sport full stop.
Participation? At my age? You gotta be kidding! I nevertheless chew the cud of the Doc's words and wander down to the local Leisure Centre. (Leisure Centre? Now there's a contradiction in terms) and I consider the options.
They seem few. Here's me, a relatively mild mannered lanky wimp of a creature who knows he won't stomach the monotony of jogging, the machismo of the gym or the beer drinking talents of the local veterans football team. Still, I saunter reluctantly along the notice boards to see if there's something that catches my eye and that won't eat into my time, or energy or wallet too greatly. I survey the posters.
Kickboxing? Er nope. Me Fighting?
Aerobics? Nah, all that pounding pop music.
Swimming? I know I won't keep it up….Eventually, I end up at the martial arts section of the notice board and see a small array of confusing posters with images ranging from the very aggressive to the indecipherable. Taekwando? Wing Chun? Aikido? Still, I pause at one board fractionally longer than the others noticing a ying-yang symbol which appeals to my sense of spirit and which also portrays this friendly looking oriental chap sticking his foot unnaturally high in the air. Amazing what they can do with digital photography, I think to myself. I read 'Tang Sou Dao' on the poster but haven't a clue what it means or even how to pronounce it in my head.
Well, it's an option. I conclude, also noticing that there's a Saturday morning class. This leaves me with no excuse about being too busy mid- week and with all excuses spent, I roll up at the next class with my tight shorts and ill- fitting t -shirt.
And it's tough going.
No. It's really tough going.
I take my place at the back of the hall and trying to follow the warm up, realise that the man on the poster with the unnaturally high kick is not a product of trick photography, since there are plenty of people here who can bend and stretch with the flexibility of a rag doll without stuffing. On into the lesson I feel self-conscious, awkward and realise that after almost 40 years I still have trouble distinguishing left from right and up from down. Just when I feel that I get the hang of something (something that before this lesson used to be simple, like say, sticking my arm in the air or walking the width of a hall) the teacher asks me to do something in a way that is both confusing and clearly not physically possible without the aid of a safety net. Asking me to 'shout' after putting out a floppy punch seems to ruin everything I've achieved in the last two minutes. Half of the instructions are in Chinese Mandarin, (though I eventually come to see this as a blessing, since when they are said in English, I feel as if I should know what they mean, but clearly don't). Halfway through the teacher says something about "anything of value taking a long time to master" and I stand there hoping that the Buddhists are right and I'll get a few lifetimes to have a crack at this. Nevertheless I do my best and somehow muddle through the hour.
Then on the way out, after the initial feeling of thankfulness for merely surviving, the fresh air of the summer's day hits me and I have a strange sensation. I feel good. No, I feel really good.
My step tempo increases and I walk, nay, skip back to my car, energised and ready to literally race to Tesco's to buy a big celebratory cake and very large bottle of Coke for my efforts. Sinking my teeth into the biggest toffee sponge pudding I can find I think that maybe I'll return next week, especially if the cake turns into a weekly self reward for good efforts.
And I do return next week. And the week after that and then on into September.
And I soon begin to learn all sorts of things about myself. I begin to learn that my biggest demons are not especially those lanky legs, wimpy arms, other inflexible limbs or my penchant for cakes. No, I learn that the biggest hurdles are those going on inside my head. It is these secret hurdles, the self-consciousness and lack of patience with my own body that prove to be the most rewarding in having to face. It is these aspects that I'll go into in later notebook entries, my thinking being that there might be other junior graders out here in Tang Sou Dao Land who likewise struggle with similar aspects of the learning curve that we are all on.
So, is it normal to feel like this? I'm not sure what normal means and I'm thankful that Tang Sou Dao recognises this in seeing us all as individuals. I do know that for me, the personal benefits of studying Tang Sou Dao far outweigh the bouts of the uncomfortable that occasionally and inevitably come with learning something that is both mentally and physically challenging. If anything I have written strikes a chord with you it might not be normal but you can rest in the knowledge that there are at least two of us out there who feel the same way.
Tang Sou!
Stuart Coupe
© Ren Yi Wu Kwan Tang Sou Dao, All Rights Reserved
