For a long time, I thought toughness meant being able to take more punishment than the other guy. Train harder. Work longer. Ignore the pain. Keep moving. I don't think that anymore. The older I get, the more I think toughness is overrated. What matters is being hard
New England Strange Fiction - the first part of this story is a real childhood memory. The rest is fiction.
I've spent a lot of time lately wondering what the hell I'm doing with my life. I'm thinking about selling my house. Eventually buying a van. Getting rid of most of the stuff I've accumulated. Traveling around the country. Training at different
There’s a technique in ju-jutsu called ikkyo. It’s basically an arm lock, and when I first learned it, I thought I understood it pretty well. My training partner would give me his arm. I’d get into position, apply the lock, take his balance and bring him
I've lived in the same house for years, and apparently I've spent a good portion of that time quietly filling it with shit. Not intentionally. Nobody wakes up one morning and says, "You know what I need? Seventeen Tupperware containers with nine matching lids."
Every new adult who walks into our school does the same thing on day one. They get tight. Shoulders up. Jaw set. Fists clenched before anyone has told them to make a fist. Every muscle in the body switched on at once, because somewhere along the way we all learned
For the first 3 years I practiced karate, I didn't do kata. Almost none. I had seen others doing it, but most of my training was spent working with another person. We did bunkai (disassembly and analysis of a technique) and oyo (the practical application of a technique)
Short story fiction about the Devil's Chair in Devil's Hopyard, in the town of East Haddam, CT.
I've spent a lot of my life in sales. And if you've spent enough time in sales, you've probably heard some version of this: That's just how the business works. I've heard it about scripts. I've heard it
I started martial arts at 40. Not 40 and in great shape. Not 40 with a background in wrestling or boxing or anything that would have given me a head start. Just 40—with a full time job, a mortgage, 3 dogs, and a body that had opinions about being
There’s a place in East Haddam, Connecticut called Devil’s Hopyard. The name alone sounds like somebody made it up for a horror story. They didn’t. You can get in your car, drive there, park, and walk into the woods yourself. There’s a waterfall called Chapman Falls
I’ve broken six bones since I started training in martial arts. I don’t recommend it. There are probably easier ways to learn some of the lessons I’ve learned over the last six years, but apparently I’m the kind of person who occasionally needs the lesson delivered