Rest days are the longest, and hardest, days to get through. I have a hard time sitting around doing nothing all day, so I’m going to hit the gym for a light, full body session so I don’t feel so useless. While I wait for the B-Vitamins to kick in, I figure I will write about myself to give everyone who is interested in my log a peak into who I am.
The beginning of my journey to athleticism begain in kindergarten, after watching my very first Bruce Lee movie, Enter the Dragon. That movie lead, to the very first time that I can remember, to my desire of having a desireable physique. It also sparked my interest in martial arts.
So in first grade, my parents signed me up to a local Karate class in our local village (maybe it was more of a hamlet at that time?). It was twice a week, and we worked hard. I hit it with a gusto and energy that only a 6 year old, over-eager youth with unlimited enthusiasm could summon. I trained, and loved it. It also inspired me to do my own workouts just about every night at home: push-ups with differing hand positions, wall-squats, and a helluva lotta crunches and situps.
Now in my youth, I was a skinny kid. My older sister would, almost on a weekly basis, taunt me with “oh skinny mosquito! Come and suck my blood!”, to which I would fight her and lose. Everytime. But with the nightly workouts and lack of body fat, I was a skinny kid with atleast a half decent set of abs.
Now I stayted in Karate for approximately 3 years, and that was that. It really conditioned me, physically and mentally, and I have to say that I think those 3 years under the tutelage of my sensei really taught me the importance of self-discipline. In fact, I credit my athletic successes with the values I’ve developed from this time period.
Fast foreward a few years: in 6th grade I took up Tae Kwon Do, with the same gusto I had for Karate but with the discipline to boot. I progressed quickly, and along with my sister and our best-friend neighbors, we were the cream of the class: we helped teach, we put on the best show when sparring, and we were the guinea pigs for our instructors. I entered my first competition 3 years later, to which I tied for 3rd place. I sparred once, against the guy who later won the tournament, and had a bullshit loss. Despite scoring direct hits that would knock him on his ass, the judges would “never see it”. This gave Tae Kwon Do a sour taste in my mouth, and I quit a few months afterwards.
Right afterwards, I got into school sports for a while. I played volleyball for a year, basketball for 2, and track & field for 3. I never excelled at any of these, but stayed, more or less, fairly mediocore. I may have had potential for the 100m dash in track, I was one of the fastest kids in our area and helped lead our 4x100m relay team to provincials in our last year, but I did not have my heart into it.
This took place in the 9th grade. A year later, a few months before my 17th birthday, I discovered footbag. Now I’ve always kicked a hacky sack around and was half decent at it, but footbag was different. Footbag was hard. Footbag was creative. Footbag required focus, dedication, and commitment. And best of all, I was naturally pretty good at it in the beginning. I quickly became the best “hacky sacker” in school, and was starting to feel I found something that I wouldn’t be just mediocore in. From the time I started landing my first tricks, I knew I had it in me to be not just good, but damn good. The only thing stopping me was myself. I was my own limitation. From the first month to the last years, I pushed myself beyond physical pain, mental ups and downs, bad weather, you name it. I was going to be the best.
It would just cost me my health.
To be continued…
