Northstar Martial Arts

At any local PCYC in Australia you're most likely to find various boxing and martial arts centres with a spattering of sweaty and pugilistic people 'going at it' in various ways and means. For years I'd look in on all of this like it was some secret coven of fighters and their trainers. They would train to breaking point amongst old men carrying buckets and mopping wooden floors. There was no obvious appeal to someone like me and there definitely wasn't an invitation to join. Well, a year and a half ago something changed and I marched into one of these institutions and asked the sensei if I could participate. My life hasn't been the same since.
The first impression you get when poking your head into a dojo is something approaching fear, at the very least its something disconcerting. These are people from all walks of life, old and young, kicking and punching thin air in almost perfect unison. They wear white pyjamas. They look motivated. They don't talk yet they're all stuck in close proximity to each other. For thirty or so people in a normal size room that's a lot of avoiding eye contact. Then there's the noise. The building practically shakes.
This is what I faced when I rang Andy one afternoon. It was a new year's resolution I think, and my wife was encouraging if not a little cautious - I have a habit of picking up fads and dropping them again almost in the blink of an eye. I approached the PCYC and sure enough the building was shaking. I think I joined in as an act of solidarity. Actually my reasoning was deeper than just what martial arts had been moulded into by Hollywood over the last twenty years. I'd slowly been feeling the ill affects of insecurity, especially when it came to personal protection. Actually when my home was burgled twice in two days later that year it was Shinbudo that helped me sleep at night. I wanted to know how to get a cheap shot on the boisterous drunk before I ran for my life. There was never any motivation to kick a brick in half from somewhere above my head whilst blindfolded and whilst wearing funny pants. I'd leave that to people who genuinely found that sort of thing interesting. I just wanted to get a handle on something that was starting to get me worried when I was drinking with mates or getting stuck on a quiet street at night. I had run out of excuses not to address it so I did what all sensible people do when they want to solve something - they look up the yellow pages. Andy asked me to drop by the next evening.
Well now I'm a blue tip grade and I'm absorbed, completely immursed in the art and all that it stands for. So what happened? What changed me so significantly as to want to be one of those fabled white pyjama wearing athletes? Patience grasshopper, all will be revealed.