Getting all Philosophical: "Chasing the Dragon"

[tallgeese]

This post is a whole lot of rambling that I’ve chosen to do here, on “paper”, instead of in my head.

"Chasing the Dragon" is a drug-related term that originated as the name/metaphor for the manner in which one smoked a particular class of narcotics, but is more popularly used as the metaphor for pursuing a high. Due to the increasing nature of human tolerance, it becomes harder and harder for one to achieve the same level of intoxication, and therefore leaves the user in a perpetual journey. Without the narcotics in the picture, I find this to be a positive trait. The perpetual journey is what makes one great at anything, but for the purpose of this rambling, it’s what makes one great at martial arts.

This is not a drug-related post, as the title may indicate, but rather the title phrase lends itself best to how I view the situation. As I’ve grown close to the martial artists around me, it would seem that the most successful and dedicated among them all have the quality of using the martial arts not as a means to an end, but instead as simply a means. I have been around many martial artists (although that phrase gives many of them much more credit than is due to them) who are either not goal seeking, or seek a goal which itself has finality.

The ones who have no goal are numerous and short lived. Proving that you’re tough, that martial arts don’t work, that you’ve got more testosterone than everyone on Earth, that you already know everything, and simply doing it to be “cool” are all purposes that run their course over the period of less than a half-dozen classes. These ego-driven would-be students typically have strong legs due to the heavy chip on their shoulder, and offer proof the one’s mouth and ears cannot be open at the same time. They come to class and once their journey runs its course, by excuse or embarrassment, they’re never heard from again.

Students with conclusive goals probably make up the bulk of medium to long term martial artists. They’re looking for general fitness, a way to defend themselves, camaraderie, or even a general understanding of an art in the form of a black belt. They’re often times great martial artists and add a lot to their environment. Unfortunately, they often times meet their goal – regardless of how lofty it may initially seem. They may test for black belt, be awarded one, and soon thereafter suffer from a fizzling interest. They might come back from time to time, but with their checklist complete, the drive to push on doesn’t exist.

And then, you’ve got the small group of people who have a goal that is either flat-out impossible or one that lives in a constant state of evolution. You can’t get rid of these guys. In my circle of martial artists, I know many of these. Some are teachers, but even within the group, the goals of teachers differ from one to the next. One of these teachers looks to pass on his knowledge through competition. He builds his stable of fighters with what must be the goal of one day coaching a world champion. This certainly wouldn’t be the end for him though, as his next goal would be to coach two world champions. His appetite is never fulfilled, and this is what pushes him to deviate far beyond the norm.

Other teachers I know are in a never-ending quest for knowledge. They seek general mastery in multiple arts, constantly adding, subtracting, and modifying their toolbox of knowledge in an attempt to build an equation of techniques in which the value is perpetually increasing.

Beyond that though, there are guys like Tallgeese, who are really scary. His goals, over the course of a lifetime have evolved to fit both him and his present situation. At first, he mastered a combative art to a frightening degree. Then, he started adapting that art to a specialized combative situation – law enforcement. He forged something made for battle into something made for more battle, but that wasn’t enough either. He then determined that he was going to grow old, and in doing so, he should supplement his prior training with additional training. He’s now mastering another art, and though it has a sport application, he constantly applies every movement into something that exists in real life. He reasons that he’s getting older and therefore should “do less,” but in doing so, he’s actually putting more on his plate – he isn’t slowing down at all, despite his claims.

And then there’s me. I’m not a particularly religious person in the traditional sense, and wouldn’t I say that I’m particularly spiritual either. In my most intense periods of training, I have come to view martial arts as a sort of religion. While perhaps not typical, I feel that it does meet all of the traditional and historical purposes behind any particular religion. This religion of martial arts is polytheistic, although just as in the Mycenaean Greece where some prayed to only one god, some martial artists only practice one discipline. I view my fellow students as the congregation, my instructors as the various priests, and the training facilities as temples. There are of course, larger temples dedicated to various arts with varying levels of high-priests spread across the world. As in traditional religion, I find that I’m a better person when I train hard, or in religious terms, when I’m more devout. I find that the religious function of prayer as a method to get closer to a god is replaced by receiving beatings to get closer to the absolute mastery of the art in which I’m training. In the last 18 months, I have not been as pious as I would have preferred.

Less than two years ago, I was at my highest mental and physical peak in martial arts. The core members at our gym (myself, Groin Strike, and Master Pain) were training several hours a day, 4-6 days per week. We pushed the limit every day, and despite not always looking like we were the most in-shape group of people, managed to make almost ever 16-21 year old “athlete” that came into our class quit from exhaustion with physical training alone. I performed fairly well on my black belt test – well enough to pass anyhow, competed to good results in competition, survived a few days of training at a high-level facility, and had built my skill level up to what I felt was an ever-increasing level of acceptable. I was in the best shape of my life, and it was fantastic.

Today, I’m about 100 lbs heavier, my skill set slightly dulled, and my body now physically unable to perform in the fashion which it was trained. BJJ is difficult because there’s always a belly where there didn’t used to be one, and my high-pace, constant pressure style of sparring quickly fades for want of more cardio. Hope isn’t lost, not by a long shot. Fighting out of this isn’t something I’d avoid if I were elderly, and luckily for me, I’m not – I’m 26. I can still do amazing things like perpetually dropping 10 lbs a week. This is something, I think, that should be taken advantage of while I have the opportunity.

But even at my peak, I wasn’t where I wanted to be. My striking could have been sharper, my BJJ crisper, my wrestling more dominant and intuitive, and my judo more existent. My cardio ceiling could have been greater, along with my speed, strength, dexterity, and flexibility. My “combatives” weren’t good enough either – they never can be. My marksmanship with a firearm could have improved, as could my weapon disarms, my stick fighting abilities, and my prowess with multiple attackers.

Now, as I start down the path back to that place, I think about what it will be like once I get there. And while the me of today is certainly in no position to offer myself of yesterday criticism, the me of tomorrow knows that where I am headed is no end point, just a checkpoint. Pushing myself to that level again is a lot like lightning striking twice, but still, I’m unimpressed. Getting it to strike twice is just step one in the journey; I’ve then got to catch it in a bottle – and that’s impressive. Of course, once I’ve done that, there’s a lot more lightning out there, and collecting bottles to put it in seems like the natural progression.

Pushing myself beyond what my body is capable of is the best high I’ve ever experienced. Every time I do it, my cardio improves – that is our tolerance to the high. Everyday then, I’ll push myself past the limit, chasing the dragon further than I did before.

Reading this again got me thinking, the last 3 months for me have sucked from a training stand point. I have found myself in a new line of work, Law Enforcement. From June to August I was sequestered(SP?) at the State Police Academy. This was a good experience, however it totally wrecked my training schedule. Furthurmore i will soon be working the afternoon shift at my department, this will further wreck my training schedule. I will still be able to squeeze in a couple day a week hopefully, but it won't come close to my regiment of the past.

The point i am trying to make is that as martial artists we must make the most of the training opportunities that we have, because sometimes they can be in limited supply. Don't take training partners or training venues for granted.

Also due to my change in employment my focus in martial arts has shifted somewhat. Prior to becoming a cop I focused mainly on manipulating a person into a position where i could stomp on their head...This is not conducive to a long career in law enforcement. When i can train, I have been focusing on BJJ and some Greco-Roman wrestling as a way to control a subject, definately a more peaceful means of gaining compliance than massive head trauma.

To all members of the Bujin Clan and KF, make use of your time and make use of the knowledge available to you.

GS, you make an excellent point here, we ALL need to truely take time to value our mat time. No matter if it's easy to obtain or difficult, it shouldn't be taken for granted. All sorts of things can interfear, as with you job scheduling is difficult, family, injury- all things that can side line us from action.

No matter why you train, but certainly its more pressing if you're looking at a sd aspect, each minute you waste of mat time is time that you're less prepared. I try to press it to all my classes, don't waste a second of training time.

And, I've learned from friends who've had to leave along the way due to injury, cherish it. A bad injury (ma realted or not) can take you out of what you love to do instantly. Train hard, and more importantly, train SMART.

Lastly, welcome to the fold of LE as well. You'll do great, love it, and you will never get a better oppoturnity to pressure test yourself and your skills. You'll find your coming endeavors to be the greatest crucible you could find for your art. It will shape what you do and how you look at conflict remarkably. Welcome aboard.