2001 has been forgotten, and 2002 is here. As
with every new year, we have new resolutions. For JKD
practitioners, this is the time of the year to say "I'm going to
improve on my straight blast" or "I'm going to improve on
my conditioning." No matter what the resolution
might be, it will come under the intense scrutiny of
that same old question: "why the agony?" It won't come
to you as you are writing your resolutions down in
ink, or when you are busying yourself with your daily
activities. This question will come to you when you're
huffing and puffing after your 5th round on the bag, or
your 20th minute of rolling with that danged purple
belt who keeps arm-barring you. "why the
agony?"<br><br>Interestingly, at such moments, for me, I have no answers. As
I'm getting arm-barred, or caught with a cross, or
out of breath from skipping rope, I have no answer
for that question. I'm too busy escaping the arm-bar,
or slipping the cross, or trying to catch my breath
to even think of something that vaguely resembles an
answer at that point. Sometimes it doesn't need to be
answered, as it goes away on its own.<br><br>However, after
the training is done, I do have some sort of answer.
It's not for the abs, or the medal, or that fleeting
sense of confidence. The ends never justify the means.
Too much effort goes into it, really. Too much pain
and discomfort. When an individual puts themselves
through such arduous training, and reaps very little in
terms of obvious "material" benefits, that individual
has created a higher standard that only they and ONLY
THEY can appreciate and achieve. It is an invisible
code that cannot be learned (or unlearned); it is
simply something known since birth. The determined
effort of such an individual reflects not the worth of
material goals, but rather the substance and ultimate
nobility of their character. <br><br>We train, not because
it is what we do: it's who we are. It's a good thing
to remember.<br><br>Happy New Year!!