Not Dead Yet

I have reached the stage in my life where the mind says yes and the body says, “Let’s talk about this for a second.”  Now, I could be stoic and convince myself that this is all part of the process and that I’ve earned the right to back down…rest easy.  But the egotistical part of me (we all have one and it’s necessary) calls bull “shoes” on that one.  I occasionally deride myself for being lazy or ask what happened to my stones, as it were.  What happened to my pain tolerance, my fear tolerance?  Why am I suddenly way more careful and concerning about how go about training and daily life.?  

Can I tell about one of the ongoing arguments between me and my first wife that spanned the length of our 33 year marriage?  Motorcycles.  Always wanted one.  I took a motorcycle safety course in 1988 with the full intention of getting a bike. Then along came son No 1., so I set aside my desire for the open road for a couple of years. Then came son No.2 along with the realization that I had a family and responsibilities A motorcycle was an unnecessary expense, not to mention the possibility of becoming a quadriplegic.  And now, in my 60s, when I have the means and the time to get one, the minute part of my brain I that call wisdom has convinced me this is not a good idea.  I’ve had too many patients, seen too many people in cars on their phones.  No thanks.  But 15 years ago, I would have taken the risk.  

I used to get up on ladders all the time to clean the gutters…first floor…I’m not crazy.  I still do, but you’d think I as preparing for a hurricane with the time I take to make sure that ladder is steady.  And I climb up and down a lot slower and cautiously now.  Why?  Because I’ve treated a lot of people who’ve fallen off of ladders over the years.  Femurs, ankles, shoulders.  Head trauma.  And do I think about all that when I go up the ladder?  Kinda.  All this from the same guy who used to perch precariously on ladder with a chainsaw to cut tree limbs.  Now, I hire people for that sort of thing.  It’s not that I can’t do it…I’d just rather not.  

You know, I used to be able to do ukemi (rolls) and sutemi (break falls) for an hour or more straight.  Hard falls, a lot of impact.  During demonstrations, I’d have four or five of my students huddle in a row and do a jump rollout over them.  That was part of the “thunder and lights” show we used to put on back in the day.  In later years, I’d take my young karate/aikido students for long runs up to the track, have us all run the steps, train on the football field and then run home.  I was in my 40s then and still felt invincible.  I could easily kick to the head, sneak in the occasional spinning crescent kick (a favorite of mine) or practice jumping side kicks.  I fearlessly participated in heavy-duty sparring with and without pads and grappled for long sessions without thinking about my hip, my shoulder or my neck.  I ran sprints for fun after a long jog, or would run and jump over rocks and hills on the many paths at the Cincinnati Nature Center.  I took shots to my head and face, believing it would make me immune to pain in a real fight.  Any pain I had was doable and brief.  

These are all of the thoughts I had when I woke up in recovery after having total hip surgery in August of 2024.  Well, the first thought was for food…I was starving…but then, as I laid there waiting for the affects of the anesthesia to wear off, I started to come to the realization that life was different.  Even though I made sure I had a surgeon who I trusted would do a great job and help me get part of my life back, e.g. jogging, martial arts, lifting weights, I wasn’t going to be 40 again.  Which is funny, because I remember when I thought 40 was old.  Nevertheless, I was determined to eventually do most of the things I wanted to do again.  Eventually is a key word, here.  

Now almost two years in, I can finally get my kicks up to waist level without moderate pain, loss of balance or lousy technique.  I can jog, at last.  Running at a good clip will bench me for a couple days, but I can jog.  I can’t really take break falls anymore and doing a bunch of rolls starts to hurt a lot after about 20 minutes.  I am far more cautious during grappling, content to lose a lot more often but happy for the challenge and the workout.  My latest back squat is up to 335 lbs…not “ass to grass” but more weight than I’ve ever lifted before.  How am I able to do all this?  Adaptation.  

Wisdom has taught me to modify my karate and aikido techniques to fit my body now…not try to achieve what 30 or 40 year old me was able to do.  I am much smarter about the way I workout; quality over quantity.  I do a lot more research these days.  I do not ignore pain and know the difference between hurt and injured.  Last week for example, I pulled a muscle in my back during a grappling session.  Younger me would have kept going and dealt with it the next day.  Older, wiser me knows to step off the mat and let my son finish teaching so I’m not down for a week.  It’s not fear or weakness that has made me alter my training; it is wisdom.  Wisdom only happens through pain.  

There are others who train here at the dojo in my same boat.  And I have to smile knowing that some of the young, tough dudes that have been with me for 15-20 years - my sons included - are all starting to take a step back in some ways.  I think we’re all training smarter.  

If you’re reading this and wondering if you can get back on the horse, the answer is absolutely yes.  Maybe you can’t jump on the saddle like you used to, but perhaps you've finally realized that jumping on the saddle makes your crotch hurt, so you use the stirrups instead.  But you need to get back on the horse.  You can rest when you’re dead.  Until then, keep riding.  

Dave Magliano

Tatsu Dojo

Jissenkan Budo

Dojo Cho