Mō Ichido

Once more

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  • My New Year’s Resolution

    It’s New Years Day as I write this. Actually, the day is almost over, but still, because it is the beginning of the year I am thinking about new year’s resolutions.

    Eat healthier, exercise more, drink less, etc. No offense if these are your resolutions, I’m rooting for you! But I find these kind of resolutions a bit boring. They’re redundant really aren’t they? Who doesn’t know that they are supposed to eat healthy and exercise? Of course I’m going to try to do these things anyway. I’m a fairly typical middle-aged man, with a “sitting down” kind of job. I could always stand to watch what I’m eating and make sure that I’m moving enough. I’d rather not waste the title of “New Year’s Resolution” on something so obvious.

    So, what is my New Year’s Resolution? Two words: full splits! My goal in 2026 is to be able to do a full middle split (aka “box split”). Attainable? Hopefully. Beneficial? Certainly! Ridiculous for a man of my age to be aiming for this?

    JCVD’s iconic chair split from Bloodsport.

    Hah! Yeah I’ll probably look pretty funny on the road to full splits. There are going to be a lot of middle-aged dad sounds. The grunting and the groaning. Cursing my stupid little resolution. But, reader! What if I make it? Strength and flexibility fall off the cliff in mid-life unless we do something about it. Full splits seems like a good goal to keep me strong and flexible. This will have huge benefits not only for my karate, but for my overall fitness and quality of life.

    About 20 years ago, when I first started karate, I remember working on splits and not quite getting there, but seeing the progress over time was encouraging. Wouldn’t it be cool if 40-something-me ended up achieving that goal?

    As things stand now, I am way off being able to do the splits. My hips are tight from years of sitting. But progress can be made bit by bit. I may not make it, but by this time next year, even if I try and fail, I stand a very good chance of being much stronger and much more flexible than I am now. 

    So wish me luck. Full splits in 26! I’ll keep you updated.

    Happy New Year!

  • Landing on my feet

    I really can’t believe my luck! I say this not as a superstitious person, but one who is profoundly grateful for my many undeserved blessings. I look back on my life sometimes and am amazed at how I have somehow managed, time and time again, to stumble into good situations. To use an Irish turn of phrase, I’m on the pig’s back.

    I got the itch to return to karate when I introduced my son to the art and brought him to his first classes. Rummaging through my old books and gear brought back great memories. However (and call me proud if you like) I just did not fancy joining in with my boy’s classes. They were all little kids, the classes are fun and very kid-friendly. Throwing a middle-aged man into the mix, I felt, would cramp their style, and honestly just make me feel really uncomfortable. So I watched and tried to imagine a situation where I could possibly get back into training. There was no adult class, but maybe my son’s sensei offered private classes?

    Cue dramatic life change! New job. New home. And where should I end up but living about 10 minutes away from one of the best and most highly-regarded sensei from my old organisation! I reach out and am invited to return to training. I am given a time and a location, I stuff my 20-year-old dogi into my bag and pray that my out-of-shape self doesn’t end up a sweaty heap on the floor at the end of the class.

    This dojo is so close I actually ended up cycling there and when I arrive at the address… it’s the sensei’s house! The dojo is in the back yard. A private dojo. A very small group of students. All really good. Really good! And me.

    I had been prepared to don the white belt again and start again from scratch (and in fact I still keep my white belt in my bag), but my new sensei wouldn’t have it. So I wore my old blue belt. And I was still the lowest rank in the class by far. By the end of the class I was soaked in sweat, sore in areas that hadn’t been sore in years, and smiling.

    There’s a Facebook post on my sensei’s page, a group selfie taken after that first class back. Our little group, all smiles, including me at the back. The caption to that Facebook post says “Saturday morning advanced training 👊👊👊”. I had my suspicions, but reading that caption was the moment I realised that I had somehow managed to bumble my way into expert instruction, training with a highly skilled, highly technical group of karate-ka.

    A little peek at my grading book. 20 years, 6 months, and 19 days between 5th and 4th kyu!

    So this is where I train now. Sometimes I do feel like a toddler flailing around at the back, but I’ve committed and pushed myself hard in the classes and at home. (You can always tell where I’ve been training in the dojo by the drops of sweat on the floor. It’s winter now and I sometimes see the steam rising off my head.) Thanks to my sensei I have not just gotten back to where I was 20 years ago, I’ve passed the next grading. Last month I was awarded 4th kyu by Murakami Shihan (the Chief Instructor of my organisation).

    Every class I am amazed at how I managed to end up training at my dojo! The instruction is top class and the classes are so small I get all the attention I need to push me on to the next level. For example, my most recent class was just my sensei, my senpai (a 3rd dan blackbelt), and me. I couldn’t have asked for a better re-introduction to karate!

    One of the things that I’ve learned since coming back to karate is that I’m not as past-it as I thought I was. For years I had been plagued with aches and pains and just put it down to getting old and stiff. But training has been going surprisingly well! It’s hard, but not impossible, and I’m realising that so many of those aches and pains were from stress, and not just “getting old”. My hips are not as flexible as they once were, my balance needs work, but I end every class smiling, and thankfully still standing.

  • I used to have a blog

    About 20 years ago I had a blog. It feels strange to be able to write that. I remember when blogs were new and people had to say something like “weblogs, or blogs as they’re also known”. I studied software development back in the very early 2000s and one of my projects for my degree was a content management system for blogging. I remember having to explain to a panel of tech-savvy lecturers that “no, I don’t mean server logs, a weblog is like an online journal”.

    Anyway, my blog was called “Hot Anorak”. I do not, and have never, considered myself hot. “Hot Anorak” was a pun; part of an anagram:

    “Hot anoraks do take / Shotokan karate-do”.

    Get it? The first line is… Never mind. In certain parts of the world “anorak”, a type of coat, also means “nerd”, and while the “hot” part of the name might not have fit, you can probably tell that the “anorak” bit wasn’t too far off the mark.

    The karate belt I earned 20 years ago. It's a black and white photograph, but this belt is blue.

    I wrote about karate and my experiences as a humble beginner. I started writing as a 9th kyu white-belt, then 8th kyu, working my way up to 5th kyu with a blue belt. Then I just stopped.

    I injured my back, not from karate, but still it made everything hurt and training was not possible. My lower back is still not great and I’m careful with it to this day, but I remember those days back in my early 20s and the constant pain I was in. The karate stopped and by the time I was able to move without pain again I was well and truly off the wagon. Momentum was gone. Being in my early 20s life was really just taking off and a lot was changing both in me and around me. Karate got left behind.

    Cut to this year: A middle-aged dad looking for something for his son. We looked at my old dogi, my old belts, my books, my mitts, my trophies, my grading book complete with picture of 22-year-old me. Nostalgia turned into “what if…? nah!”, turned into “maybe…”. Then one sensei I wrote to, trying find a spot for my son, told me that although she didn’t do kids classes I’d be more than welcome to come back myself.

    So, now. Mō Ichido. Once more.