by Andrew Crisan – IJC Judo Athlete
Nobody likes making hard choices. Whether it be the unfamiliarity of it, or the discomfort of pursuing something difficult, the ability to push oneself past the threshold of fear is what separates a judoka from the average person. In my experience, Judo has been a journey of overcoming fear. The ability to push myself past my limits was not inherent in my person, but was something that would be earned. That discipline was manifested through the decision to come into the dojo and train. Training became more than just a physical workout, but a reflection and often harsh confrontation with the state of my spirit. Only at this moment can I as a judoka appreciate the essence of Judo and the principles of discipline.
My story with Judo started when I was a young boy. The initial introduction to the sport was a feeling of awe and captivation, seeing it both as a sport and art. When I started training, I had a sense of fear and timidity that hindered my ability to grow. My parents originally wanted me to train as a means of channeling my energy towards a meaningful skillset and physical health. Through training Judo, there was a constant attempt to instill Judo’s principles of discipline and success. But, I never truly appreciated training. In my honest opinion, I found it to be painful and unnecessarily difficult, and most times a daunting challenge I was unable to face. I maintained this mindset about training for many years, resulting in times when I would be in and out of the sport. It was a weak mindset because it had accustomed me to only listening to what my body wanted in order to feel comfortable, regardless of the stagnation of my own self, both physically and spiritually. I continued like this into my early teens with several different sports, and that mentality always seemed to remain. However, the spirit of fear always remained because of my inability to confront it.
As a typical teenager, I followed the routine of school and video games, away from sports. I would like to dedicate my reintroduction to Judo in my early teens to my brother Nicholas. I was still this timid, chubby, kid with that poor mindset. It was only after my first year or two of training did I start gaining an appreciation for it. It was painful, but the satisfaction of being able to endure training, even if it was a day by day battle, gave me the strength to continue.
There wasn’t any sudden realization that gave me the strength to confront my poor spirit. However, by developing the willpower to discipline myself to come train, I was able to confront and overcome my fear one session at a time. Day by day, winning the little battles over and over again, gave me the strength to overcome my own fear and ultimately allowed me to appreciate both myself and training. Eventually, training no longer existed in a vacuum as some sort of punishment, but instead, it became an escape. A way for me to sublimate my anxieties, anger, or sadness in a meaningful way. Every throw and exercise became a vessel towards gaining self control over my body, power over my mind, and spiritual wholeness. Each session of Randori became a testament to my promise of improving. Where each win was a reassurance that my training was improving, and each loss a reminder that there was still a long way to go, either way, the training remained the constant of my lifestyle.
Through my experience, I have gained a newfound appreciation for Judo and the importance of training. It was only after I had spent time putting in the work did the realizations come. Training is not just a means of promoting health, but it has become a therapeutic outlet to express my emotions and harness self control through physical excellence. It takes courage to make a decision to better oneself, especially when you are in a dark place. But there is no reward where there is no effort, and viewing it retrospectively, I am grateful for the pain of training, because it has pushed me to be a better person, beyond just the gift of health, it has given me a sense of peace and self control.