Back in the Land of the Living

The Prodigal Returns

First things first. This is the third time that I've attempted to post this entry. For some reason, blogger keeps crashing on me. But, this is a story that I'd like to share. I've done a fair amount of publishing my strengths on this site, it's about time that I shared my weaknesses too.

It's been a long, long time since I wrote a few words online. In truth, it's been a long time since I've been in the position to write as a student of full contact martial arts. My own training took a serious downturn when I headed to Ireland. Teaching aside, I have done little training of consequence since August 2005! Counting injury time, I've trained very little in more than a year but I've been teaching a lot. As much as I enjoy teaching, it's not training and training was a part of me.

Taking the step of opening a club in Ireland has been a great move. We're growing, slowly but surely and I can honestly say that we don't have a single member that I don't admire for some reason or another. Not one.

Catch up on club news HERE; or...
Have a look at some of our training photos HERE.

Being a trainer is something that I really enjoy. Passing on my thoughts and my approach to training, seeing good fighters become better and novices aquire the confidence to push themselves, helping them to become someone they didn't believe they could become, is something that I feel very strongly about.

That said, I would prefer, first and foremost to be a student and a PRACTITIONER of the Martial Arts, mentally and PHYSICALLY. In this regard, my personal exposure to personal training, kata and full contact kumite has been sorely missed. So, like a little boy lost, I decided it was time to find myself again.

I recently wrote to Sensei Eric Van Vaerenbergh in Belgium. My message was simple, "I need to train again. I need to find myself again. I need you to help me do it. Please can I visit your dojo in Belgium?"

Sensei Eric's response was equally simple, "Of course, you are always welcome in my dojo".

Three weeks later I was sitting on a plane headed for Belgium and, I must admit, I was a little aprehensive. Sensei's standards are high. Very high. I felt sure that I wouldn't be able live up to those standards, my fitness levels have deteriorated significantly and I hadn't done any real kumite in more than 6 months. I'm not sure that I could have matched his standards at my peak... ...but NOW?

The plane landed and I was greeted by Sensei Van Vaerenbergh and his Uchi Deschi, Bert Van Geystelen, at the arrival gate. I was instantly thrown back into the world of tradition as we greated one another with a respectful bow of the head and Bert insisted on carrying my bag to the car.

Sensei and I talked for hours that night. During the 1.5 hour journey from Brussels to Blankenberge, at the hostel that I was to stay in that weekend and in the restaurant later that night. We talked until around 2am and I was reminded what it is to speak to a like minded individual who's knowledge, experience and skill far outshines my own. Once more, I was the student in a foreign land.

During our conversations, I came to the absolute knowledge that, once again, I was in the right place and in the right hands. My aprehension all but evaporated. A little premature perhaps, training had not yet begun. In the back of my mind I knew that the rude awakening was yet to come.

Rude Awakening

I awoke at 7:30 knowing that I would need a couple of hours to get my brain functioning before the first training session. At 10:00 Sensei arrived with a big smile on his face and said, "You'll train hard today. But, I think that's what you want, isn't it?"

I returned his grin and we both considered this to be my response.

Just 5 minutes later we were at the Dojo and I was introduced to Eddy Zoete, a fellow student of Sensei and my training partner for the morning. Like me, Eddy is both Student and trainer. Eddy runs his own dojo, is a certified (and well respected) Muay Thai instructor and early on in our session together, I was to learn just how poorly conditioned I have become.

We began with "light exercise" as a warm up. Pushups, sit ups, abdominal exercise, squats and the like. Light for Sensei, light for Eddy and - in days gone by - light for me. But, things had clearly changed. After just a few minutes exercise I began seeing spots. Everything went dark, my blood pressure was having fun and my heart was trying to figure out which one of the garbled messsages for pressure change it should respond to.

Old injuries burned like hell and screamed for mercy. My brain didn't know what do to with the pain, in truth, it had forgotten. I was disgusted with myself. Training had barely begun and already I felt like I needed to stop. I think Sensei Eric could see the sadness in my eyes. The self disgust. I needed to stop.

I didn't stop but fortunately for me the warm-up did. Sensei rightly pointed out that my boxing skills needed some work. So, Eddy and I put on some gloves and started working on the technique combinations that Sensei called out. Very quickly a thin film of sweat began to interfere with my eyesight and my breathing had become laboured. I was beginning to feel more than a little frustrated. My technique had become rusty, my mind had slowed and my body had been replaced by that of an ageing man.

The training was great though. Skill and fitness regression aside, I was having a blast! I knew that I was close to vomiting but I also knew that I could maintain the pace and keep down yesterday's lunch. That's when I heard the fatal words, "OK! Time for some ground fighting." I was doomed and my lunch new it.

I had been maintaining the balance but only just,. I was already looking through a dark tunnel in my vision and I knew that ground figthing would be the finger to push me over the cliff edge. That extra bit of effort that would close off the tunnel and send my vision into literal darkness.

Still, you can never really be sure until you try...

Down to Earth with a Bump

We began training on the ground and within a very few seconds I knew that I had reached the point of no return. I had no strength left and I couldn't see. My vision was blacked out. My vision came in and out of darkness and I tried to continue no matter what. It wasn't to be.

Eddy threw me around like a rag doll and I was able to offer little, if any, resistance. Every time I tried to put effort into my movements, my vision would evaporate and all would go dark. That's when it happened. The moment where I finally understood how low I had become. I vomitted into my own mouth. Trying to hide the fact that I was choking on my own bile, I bowed to Eddy and Sensei, excused myself, and headed for the toilets filled with a sense of self-loathing and shame. As I left the dojo, I saw the look of surprise in Sensei's eyes. Was it surprise? Or, was it disappointment? Perhaps both.

The lavatory and I had a very personal conversation and it got to know everything about my eating habits over the previous 24 hours. For one brief second, I thought to return to the dojo and ask Sensei to forgive my rudeness and conclude my training for the day. As it turns out, my mind and spirit had not quite sunk to the depths of my fitness levels and I simply returned to the dojo and continued to train with Eddy. Sensei continued to call the exercises, Eddy continued to subject himself to what was likely the most unproductive training session he had every experienced.

Finally, after some two and a half hours of training, it was done. I had returned to the world of training and survived - but only just. I had crashed to earth with a bump but it was done and I was still alive. My spirits however, were dashed.

I thanked Sensei and Eddy for their time and their efforts and needed to be left alone with my thoughts.

Soul Searching

Back at the hostel, I lay out on the bed and started to mentally tear myself apart. I wasn't angry because of the pain you understand (although, I was already having trouble walking). I was experiencing a feeling of utter dejection. It was a strange moment. The culmination of multiple thoughts and emotions;

I had let my Sensei down. He puts faith in me, consistantly and without question, and I shamed him. I had let myself down. Being without training partners is no reason to fall so far behind. Embarrassment. Hate. Anger. Frustration. I wasn't back after all. If anything, I was more lost than ever.

A couple of hours later, I met up with Sensei and his family to walk along the beach, eat some food and talk. I tried to forget about training for a few minutes but it wasn't to be and Sensei knew instantly that I was not myself. The conversations that took place that afternoon will remain between Sensei and I but his words hit me right between the eyes. For this, he has my continued gratitude and respect.

Round Two

We returned to the hostel to collect my training gear and headed off for the next round of training at the dojo. Sensei had made a call to one of his students, Sven Braem. At 17, Sven has already made quite a name for himself on the european full contact circuit. Sensei grinned at me again, "You'll like him a lot. They call him 'Hellboy'."

Coming Soon:

Part II of The Belgium Visit - An Afternoon with Hellboy! A Positive Ending!

Visit My Dojo: MMA Ireland : Photos