• Goodness me, time has flown! I haven’t written anything here since January! No apologies though, this is just something I do for my own amusement and I’m pretty certain nobody reads it anyway.

    “So, how have things been going?” I hear nobody at all asking. Fast! Sometimes it feels like I’ve unwittingly strapped myself to a rocket! At the end of February I graded for my 3rd kyu. Not at a seminar this time but at my Sensei’s dojo at the end of our Saturday morning class with all my dojo-mates watching. It was a tough grading, but I passed and was surprised and delighted at the end to be presented with my brown belt. It’s hard to explain what that feels like. The next belt I’ll wear, all going well, will be black!

    This time last year I was some guy who might tell you about how he used to do karate “years ago”. I had been a 5th kyu when I was a much younger, leaner, much more flexible man. Karate was firmly in the realm of nostalgia, and daydreams of “what might have been” if I had just stuck with it.

    When I started back at the dojo in September last year I was fully prepared to wear a white belt again and even suggested to my now Sensei that I try to get back to a good level of fitness before coming back to karate. Knowing now that I have somehow stumbled into this group of such highly skilled, technical karateka who train so intensely, I am surprised at how warmly I was invited into the fold. This is the rocket I didn’t really understand I was hitching myself to. But it has paid off!

    The training is so intense that my karategi is so soaked in sweat that it’s pretty much see-through at the end of the sessions, and I am thriving. I feel ten years younger, and so much stronger and fitter. My body is changing and I can feel it. The everyday feeling now is not an ache or pain really, but almost: it’s hard to describe but it’s a very pleasant feeling knowing that my muscles have been worked and are becoming stronger. It reminds me of when I trained for a marathon years ago. Every night I would go to bed with the feeling that my legs had been working hard and were transforming into better legs for running. I feel that again now, in my legs but also in my back, shoulders, core, even my feet. I haven’t actually lost that much weight, but I’m not as soft and pudgy as I used to be. My face and my body are visibly different than only a short few months ago. I have more energy, and less of the aches and pains that come with a sedentary life.

    Flexibility is improving too, albeit slower than other things. I am not a young man anymore, so that’s to be expected. Mind you I can touch my toes easily, and kick to jodan, which is more than many in my age and line of work can say. Stiff hips, weak hip flexors, tight hamstrings, and a tight lower back (the “Four Horsemen of Desk Job Mobility Issues”) plague me but I am slowly seeing improvements. The full split goal is still what I’m aiming for, but it feels a long way off.

    Book Cover of Stretching Scientifically by Thomas Kurz

    I’ve gone back again to Tom Kurz and his book Stretching Scientifically, which is pretty much the book on flexibility as far as I and many other martial artists are concerned. I first encountered this book years ago when I first started karate, and I was amazed at how quickly I was able to achieve high kicks. My first copy of Stretching Scientifically was passed around to my old dojo-mates and maybe even my Sensei and I ended up losing track of who had it. So I bought another copy recently and I am noticing improvements in only a couple of weeks as I put Tom Kurz’ advice into practice even as I’m still working my way through the book.

    It’s not all straightforward. My body is older now and that means I have to be more mindful not to overdo things. Recovery takes much longer than when I was younger. So when I get the early warning signs that things might not be all good I have to back off a little. I had to stop trying so hard to achieve the splits after my knee started acting funny, thankfully that’s okay now, but I have had to take a more mindful and more gentle approach while still working towards the full split. In the last couple of days my lower back has given me warning signs too so I must listen and go easy on the leg swings for high kicks. It’s not fun feeling old, but in my younger body I probably would have just pushed through the pain and actually injured myself, which is kind of what happened. These days I find myself more grateful for the body I have and the things that it is able to do, so I am more inclined to be patient with myself. My body and I are old friends at this stage, and in the end it is much faster to work with my body than try to beat it into submission.

  • 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!

  • 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.

  • 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.