Facing Forward

Editor’s Note:  Contributor Jan McIntire had a long career in marketing communications. Before retiring, her last position was overseeing marketing communications at Canyon Ranch in Tucson, AZ.

Axe. Circle. Snap. Low block. Simple words that signal a new road taken in this journey called aging.  

Dressed in baggy white pants and t-shirt with a thick belt securely cinched around my middle (not a look I have ever embraced), I stood at attention in my first Taekwondo class. The self-talk jumped briskly from amusing to frightening to irritating. “I must be crazy.” “I’m too old for this!” “What if I can’t do it?” “Isn’t there an orientation?” On and on the little voice chattered as I tried to read the room and figure out where to be, how to stand, what to do, how to do it. I was so out of my comfort zone that I could barely breathe. I was exhausted and class hadn’t even started.

When I told friends and family about my new pastime, invariably they asked why I would engage in something so exotic at the age of 75?  Initially, my answer was predictable. I said that I wanted to stay active and fit. True statement but somewhat superficial. I wasn’t really sure why I signed up. Then with a few classes behind me, I was able to articulate, to confess, that I am taking Taekwondo because I want to fight fear.

Fear? Yes, fear. That gnawing anxiety that lurks in the background of day to day living when your hair is white and you’re “just not as young as you used to be.” The cautions are everywhere. Be careful. Don’t fall. Don’t try to do that. Hold onto the railing — literally and figuratively.

I’m also aware of a more generalized existential kind of fear that sets off an inner alarm when I sense the brusqueness of so many human interactions today, from disregard for traffic laws and speed limits to unfriendly encounters in retail stores and restaurants.

I can’t do anything about how other people think or behave, but I can do something about how I react and respond. Through Taekwondo, I can confront fear head on. Directly. No flinching. No waiting to see what happens next or what other people are going to do.

Axe, circle, snap, low block. Three kicks and a defense posture — the first Taekwondo combination and many more will follow. By enrolling in Taekwondo, I’m putting myself into a long-term training experience, the kind you would do before entering a marathon or climbing a mountain. I’m trying to train my brain as well as my body.

Here’s what I mean. Recently, the instructor told the class to do 10 burpees. (Squat, thrust your legs back, jump back into the squat and jump straight up, and repeat. Yes, ridiculously hard.) He didn’t give me an out because of my age nor did he even ask if I knew how to do a burpee. Could he see my stunned reaction? Could he tell I wanted to run out of the building and never come back? I felt like I was in junior high gym class all over again — you want me to do WHAT!

And suddenly there it was, loud and clear in my head — Lesson #1 in fear management: Don’t think. DO!

Granted, the sight of my doing burpees was not a pretty one, but in the split second it took to respond to the instructor, I knew I had to move and do whatever I could manage.

The lesson became even more indelible when burpees were followed by jumping jacks, planks, sit-ups, and push-ups. It was just one embarrassing challenge after another. But here’s the thing. I got the fitness stripe along with the other members of the class. My first stripe! And I got it by participating. I didn’t have to be perfect but I did have to DO what I was told to do.  

Slowly I am getting comfortable in my new Taekwondo skin, feeling enjoyment and self-confidence expanding. Every class is an assortment of ages, ability levels, and colors of belts and stripes. What connects us is our willingness to participate, to do what is sometimes strange and often uncomfortable, to overcome nervousness and shyness, to enjoy the experience and to value the potential each person brings into the studio.

Plus, Taekwondo is a long-haul proposition. You’re never done. There’s always the next level, the next challenge. What a great way to face the future.

 

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Always Say Yes

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Blink of an Eye