Healthy Living DIY

"Miss Eckert, practice your nage (a throwing form based on a series of 25 pre-determined attacks and defenses) with Mr. Smith (not his real name)." This was my instruction as I arrived for training one day shortly before my test date.

I sized up Mr. Smith. I'd been training at the dojo for 4 years, so of course I knew him already. But he didn't come around much. Frankly, he was an out-of-shape smoker with a cold. He was bigger than I was, and several ranks my junior.

I, on the other hand, was in decent condition. I trained regularly, I'd been drilling this throwing form like crazy, and I had more experience than he did. Sure I was smaller, but that gave me a slight advantage in this situation -- a lower center of gravity.

"Poor guy," I thought. "This is going to be tough on him." You see, I was to do the throws. He had the harder part -- he was going to have to hit the ground and get back up again at least 50 times before we were finished (25 throws per side). I figured I'd better go easy on him.

That was when Mr. Smith made his first mistake. He resisted. This joker really thought he was going to give me a hard time by resisting the throws. Well, I'm here to tell you that Mr. Smith did hit the ground at least 50 times that day. He hit hard. And fast. Poor guy. If it hadn't been for the fact that he had so clearly made things worse for himself, I might have even felt sorry for him.

A week or so later, I had another opportunity to practice my nage straight through. This time, a man who was my senior was generous enough to offer his help. He just had tested for Shodan three months earlier and he knew what I was up against. We were fairly well matched for size, age, and conditioning -- but he had quite a bit more experience than I did. We'll call him "Sempai Jones."

Here's where the story takes an interesting turn.

Sempai Jones had quite a bit of mat time under his belt. As a matter of fact, several years earlier, he'd been Sensei's "right-hand man" for a while. He was privvy to a few tricks of the trade.

When the moment came for the first throw, Sempai launched the pre-determined attack. I responded with the pre-determined defense. Then, at the very moment when the technique was inevitable, Sempai threw himself. Understand this. He did not give me anything. He didn't make things appreciably easier for me.

What he did do was make the exchange markedly easier on himself. Once the throw was inevitable, experience told him that he would fare better if he took control of his own fall. I've been on the receiving end of this exercise enough times that I knew it, too.

Resisting the fall makes the experience decidedly unpleasant.

Taking control of the fall, while still tiring, is a completely different experience. When you control the fall, you control the landing -- and life is (relatively) good.

Interesting concept. Next time life hands you the opportunity for a change you didn't anticipate, why not give it a try?