Attending the Western Wyoming Karate Tournament this weekend was a familiar sight to me.
I even donned my 2005 tournament T-shirt for the occasion.
It has been many years since I laid eyes on the hustle and bustle of the tournament. People were everywhere.
My involvement in Jim Dean’s studio of Pineda’s Kenpo karate started while I was a student at Green River High School. I even remember Jim Dean and his family attending my high school graduation party just shy of a decade ago.
Many of the faces I saw were new ones, the ones from a decade ago few and far between. People I knew greeted me with smiles and hugs. Competitors I didn’t know greeted me with smiles all the same. The air of familiarity, reminiscent memories, respect, discipline and family come to mind.
I’ve always felt at home while in the company of Jim, and Gary Dean; brothers in and out of karate. They’ve always been family to me; part of my karate family. Even though I haven’t been a regular student for many years, I’ve always felt welcome. The same goes for any of the familiar faces I saw at the tournament Saturday. Participating in karate creates a bond for those who belong to the studio, past and present.
We learned together and pushed each other to our limits. The karate family is there for you, they are there to pick you up when you are down, defend you, support you and teach you those difficult lessons.
During one of our countless exercises practicing to defend ourselves against an attacker, a fellow student, a taller, much larger person than I picked me high up above the red, carpeted floor. The gears in my brain cranked quickly and what came of it was me headbutting him to the temple, straight down my head went. It was something he did not expect and surprised him. To this day, I still get hackled about “the headbutt.” I admit it was a bit unorthodox, but it got the job done.
Posted on the wall in Jim Dean’s karate studio is a sign with the word “can’t” with a slash through it, meaning the word “can’t” is not allowed. Those who are heard speaking the word have to do pushups; I’m speaking from experience here.
I was put through hell in karate, a hell which taught me my own strength, my weaknesses, a hell which pushed me to improve. It’s an experience I’d never want to take back and never want to forget. I always want to remember the many lessons karate taught me.
Among other things, karate taught me to always believe in myself. The lessons stick with me just as the memories.
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