Do I really want the gold medal?
Last summer several of us watched Olympic athletes from all over the world compete in just 2 weeks to see who would go home with the gold medals. Many times, the difference between silver and gold,
or between bronze and 4th place was thousandths of a second or hundredths of a point. It really drives home the realization that only ONE person wins the gold.
Even though those of us who train in martial arts aren’t necessarily running a race or trying to stick a landing or touch the pool wall first, ask yourself this: what would your journey as a martial artist look like if you WERE training for the gold medal?
Let’s redefine what the gold medal might look like for us. Is it achieving the next belt rank? Showing up at Spirit Week every night it’s held? Is it losing enough weight to get into the next lowest size uniform? Is it making it through a class without jumping cadence and doing pushups?
Although in a track event the finish line looks the same for everyone racing, our finish line is unique to each of us. It changes over time, it changes as we grow, and it changes as we hone our craft. Hundreds have run and won their race, passing on their wisdom over the years. Although we are racing with others, our race is our own. One of the coolest things about being in martial arts today is meeting people at other dojos running with you. We also have tons of material telling the stories of
the ancients running their races.
Training with purpose and focus is one of the main ways to win our respective races. Olympic and pro athletes become serious masters of self-control. They maintain self-control in how they train, how they rest, what they eat, what they drink, and how they spend their time – in essence, EVERY part of their life comes under the microscope. Everything I do in reaching my finish line must have precision and purpose or I’ll end up off track. I must focus continuously so I can eventually use the tools in my toolbox without thinking. The cost of strict self-control is so very worth the prize at the finish line.
As we progress through the colored belt ranks, we hear that we must begin to train outside the dojo. What clutter is in your track lane that prevents that? What might trip you, distract you, or injure you as you are running this race? Clear it out!
Everyone needs support and encouragement. Who is in your bleacher stand cheering you on? Who can you turn to for coaching, constructive criticism, a kick in the pants when needed? Not just in the dojo but outside? Build your personal cheerleading and coaching staff.
Many self-help gurus correctly tell us to develop a mental vision of our goal. Who has gone before you that you can use as a visual image to pull you along when it gets tough? One of my weekly affirmations lists all of the black belts I’ve known over the years that possess traits that I want. Some of them I haven’t seen since 1986. Some of them are at our dojo. Some of them have passed on. But reminding myself of their abilities and their bushido journey keeps me going when I get weary. Create a mental picture of who you strive to become.
So, lace up your shoes (put on your uniform), get to the track (go to class or your backyard), and run (train). Tweak your path as you go but never ever take your eyes off that finish line.
or between bronze and 4th place was thousandths of a second or hundredths of a point. It really drives home the realization that only ONE person wins the gold.
Even though those of us who train in martial arts aren’t necessarily running a race or trying to stick a landing or touch the pool wall first, ask yourself this: what would your journey as a martial artist look like if you WERE training for the gold medal?
Let’s redefine what the gold medal might look like for us. Is it achieving the next belt rank? Showing up at Spirit Week every night it’s held? Is it losing enough weight to get into the next lowest size uniform? Is it making it through a class without jumping cadence and doing pushups?
Although in a track event the finish line looks the same for everyone racing, our finish line is unique to each of us. It changes over time, it changes as we grow, and it changes as we hone our craft. Hundreds have run and won their race, passing on their wisdom over the years. Although we are racing with others, our race is our own. One of the coolest things about being in martial arts today is meeting people at other dojos running with you. We also have tons of material telling the stories of
the ancients running their races.
Training with purpose and focus is one of the main ways to win our respective races. Olympic and pro athletes become serious masters of self-control. They maintain self-control in how they train, how they rest, what they eat, what they drink, and how they spend their time – in essence, EVERY part of their life comes under the microscope. Everything I do in reaching my finish line must have precision and purpose or I’ll end up off track. I must focus continuously so I can eventually use the tools in my toolbox without thinking. The cost of strict self-control is so very worth the prize at the finish line.
As we progress through the colored belt ranks, we hear that we must begin to train outside the dojo. What clutter is in your track lane that prevents that? What might trip you, distract you, or injure you as you are running this race? Clear it out!
Everyone needs support and encouragement. Who is in your bleacher stand cheering you on? Who can you turn to for coaching, constructive criticism, a kick in the pants when needed? Not just in the dojo but outside? Build your personal cheerleading and coaching staff.
Many self-help gurus correctly tell us to develop a mental vision of our goal. Who has gone before you that you can use as a visual image to pull you along when it gets tough? One of my weekly affirmations lists all of the black belts I’ve known over the years that possess traits that I want. Some of them I haven’t seen since 1986. Some of them are at our dojo. Some of them have passed on. But reminding myself of their abilities and their bushido journey keeps me going when I get weary. Create a mental picture of who you strive to become.
So, lace up your shoes (put on your uniform), get to the track (go to class or your backyard), and run (train). Tweak your path as you go but never ever take your eyes off that finish line.
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