Trial By Fire

It's been a while since I've posted anything about my UBBT physical training regimen. Recently, I've been doing a lot of work with Clubbells. They're nasty little torture devices — essentially miniature iron baseball bats with a displaced center of mass. Using them is a total body workout that improves strength, grip, endurance, flexibility, mobility, and GUTS. Oh, and using them is pretty darn fun, too.

Now that I've more or less got the Clubbell basics down, I've set a goal of completing a "Trial By Fire:" One hundred single Clubbell mill swings (each arm) one hundred double swipes, and one hundred two-handed hammer swings, all using the 15 lb. Clubbell — in 30 minutes or less. I'm going to do a dry run today to asses my current Clubbell fitness level, and then I'll use the results to set a TBF goal that has a specific deadline.

Wish me luck.

My Greatest Living Hero

Today is July 24, 2009. It's my daughter's 3^rd birthday. So while I joyfully celebrate a milestone today, another, darker one lurks in the background: My daughter Ava was diagnosed at just 18 months as a Type I diabetic. So today, she has been living longer WITH the disease than she has without it. I am at once heartbroken by my daughter's challenges, and overwhelmed with gratitude for all of the advances in medicine and technology that enable her to live a [mostly] normal life.

My daughter gracefully endures countless finger sticks, needle injections, and infusion set changes. She has cranky parents who NEVER sleep. We've been to more doctor appointments and specialist consultations than I care to count. In the last 18 months, there have been terrifying blood sugar highs and equally scary lows, and one or two potentially deadly equipment malfunctions. Yet, Ava takes it all in stride. She's happy, She's carefree, She's energetic, intelligent — and damn funny, too.

And, man, is she tough!

She's my hero, and my greatest teacher.

Happy Birthday, Peanut!

Where Is My Audacity?

Forty years ago today, mankind first set foot on the moon. Wow.

I mean really — WOW! The whole thing is a #*$%& miracle!

This all happened before my time, mind you — for I didn't show up here until 1971. But even so, today I'm looking at the grandeur of the moon landing in all its intensity, and I'm wondering on a micro scale what MY "personal moon landing" ought to be.

Today, I'm feeling stuck in the cycle of eat, work, play, sleep, repeat. It's a pretty good life, really. I have no complaints! But what insanely daring, outrageous, and brilliantly risky thing should I be embarking upon to stretch and to learn? How am I to grow and evolve beyond my current capabilities, perceptions, and imagination?

Where is my audacity? My courage? What are my limits? How might I dare to thrust out into the unknown and put myself utterly on the line? What unexplored and alien territory of my own body/mind/spirit should I explore, and then boldly plant my flag upon arrival?

What grand, difficult, wonderful, and awe-inspiring adventure should I embark upon today?

And what will I learn from the journey?

My New White Belt

In my spare time (ha!), I've been reading about the life and works of Leonardo Da Vinci. Inspired by his inquisitive mind and superior artistic ability, I recently ran over to the local art supply store and picked myself up a beginner's set of pencils and a book on pencil drawing. Ahh, a new, inexpensive, challenging hobby!

In the last two weeks, I've learned how to hold a pencil (geez, thought I'd at least have that one down!) and use an eraser (hey, there's more to it than you might think!). I've learned the difference between hard and soft leads, and how they appear on various types of paper. And although I haven't gotten all the way through the beginner-level book yet, I've gained a rudimentary understanding of the basics of line, shape, and form. I'm working on my shading and blending techniques, too.

Using pieces of scrap paper during my lunch breaks, I've managed to complete a few sketches so far, and well — I'm absolutely horrible.

How refreshing! I'm a complete beginner — a white belt — and I have NO idea what I'm getting myself into. I'm really enjoying the learning process, though, and while I'm not even close to reproducing the samples in my book, I've made some pretty remarkable progress in just a few days (if I may say so myself).

Drawing is hard. It's awkward, and my inner critic screams at me with every stroke of the pencil. But it's enjoyable and meditative, too. And already I can see myself making incremental progress for the rest of my days, so long as I have the strength to hold a pencil.

When you think about it, it's kind of like practicing the martial arts.

In My Absence, Magic Happens!

As I've stated before, I was in Canada all of last week doing some intense physical training with a handful of my students and about 150 other martial artists from the Zen Bei Butoku Kai International. I can't say enough good things about the training experience, or the fine people involved in the annual Summer Camp.

But in my absence, wonderful things were happening back at out dojo in Boston, and I'd like to recognize them here:

Our Little Dragons completed a food drive project. The more than 150 pounds of non-perishable food items they collected will be donated to a local organization next week.

My students created a project – on their own initiative – and formed a dojo knitting circle to teach one another how to knit used grocery store plastic bags into reusable bags.

The community garden we planted was vandalized, and many students jumped in to volunteer to re-plant, notify city officials, contact the press, and more.

Using our private forum, students are now discussing getting ways to get a mural painted in the area by our dojo that's now covered with graffiti.

One of my students was nominated by the rest of the group to serve on the city of Boston's "Community Advisory Committee on Climate Action."

Another student invited her dojo mates to participate in the Project Place (a homeless services organization) Open Door Network.

This is so very cool. I go away for a week, and chaos ensues – in a good way! Maybe I should go away more often.