2010

• Kristina Knittel

• Dylan Grell

• Devon Haglund

• Wendie Hohman

• Cameron Burns

• Jordan Haglund

• Seth Newman

• Gabi Wayne

• Ben Lute

RED BELT ESSAYS

I can still remember my first class. I was at WendyÕs across from the old dojo when I discovered Sortor Karate. My Mom and I went to investigate, and next thing I knew I was out on the mats looking awkward. I remember not being able to point my foot for a roundhouse kick. My feet would cramp, and my toes would go in different directions. Then it finally happened, I had logged in the time and preformed the magic number of reps, and bam! Pointing my foot on roundhouse kick became automatic. I was pretty exited about that until I had to go back to square one with side kicks. My first rank test was also a memorable experience, not knowing what to expect, and all. I stayed up all night with a friend the night before. Bad Idea! Needless to say, I was pretty sorry the next day. I should have been more prepared for that test, but it turned out to be a good experience. It taught me very quickly what it would take to advance through the belts at this school, a lot of hard work and spirit. SenseiÕs rank tests are one of this schoolÕs most admirable qualities. Sensei has this uncanny ability to know exactly whatÕs going on with you, whatÕs going on in your head. He never seems to have any trouble bringing you to that place where your mind and body start saying, ÒDude, whatÕs wrong with you? YouÕre not supposed to be doing stuff like this!Ó Rank tests and things like them arenÕt exactly normal pass times. Most people just donÕt do these kinds of things, and for good reason, theyÕre no fun. In short theyÕre terrible. I would rather have my teeth pulled, but there is nothing more rewarding than successfully completing your rank test (the best part of which is eating afterward). Sensei can bring the best/worst out in you with his tests. By pushing you to your limits and taking you to the edge, that point where you truly believe that you donÕt have any more to give, you discover that you do. You push through the pain and find that you have a lot more to give. These tests are something that sets this school apart from many other martial arts schools. A huge goal of mine, if I ever have a school of my own, is to emulate SenseiÕs rank tests. They amaze me, how fast paced they are, how intense they are, and how scary they are. IÕm scared to death of them. The mental anxiety that you have in the time leading up to the test plays a big part. I always have this sense of dread as my test approaches. My brown II test was a little different. I didnÕt feel nervous at all before my test, that is, until Sensei called out, ÒSeiza!Ó Wait! Now? Like right now? But itÕs only been a year. ThatÕs not enough time. No matter how many test you do, that anxiety never goes away. ItÕs funny how that anxiety effects even the people around you who arenÕt testing. My Mom is usually more nervous before a test than I am. I donÕt know what I would do without karate. This place has meant a lot to me. God blessed me by letting me find this place. I think that it was pretty lucky for me to find such an awesome dojo on my first try, I donÕt think it was a coincidence though. Being a part of this dojo family has been incredibly rewarding for me. I canÕt think of a cooler place to spend my time. We get to learn so much more than just karate here too. The skills that IÕm learning here have helped me with school and many other parts of life. Learning to lead a huge class of crazy little kids for forty-five minutes can very quickly teach you to deal with obstacles. ThatÕs a test in itself. It has been a great experience for me to be able to teach. ItÕs pretty cool to have a job like that at a time when most kids my age are competing for a job at McDonaldÕs with people who have college degrees. You guys are truly family to me. You are all teachers to me. No matter what belt you are, I learn things from you guys every day, and it doesnÕt hurt to have a sensei like sensei Brian. Those of you who have taught classes know that it is not an easy job, though Sensei makes it look easy. I wouldnÕt have made it this far if not for all the sincere, humble and genuine martial artists here. You guys set such a good example for me, and as for you red belts, whyÕd you have to go and set the bar so high? IÕve gone through a karate burn out like every body does, but I never contemplated giving up karate. If you are going through a burn out, know that all you need to do is put your head down and work through it. If you do this you will eventually snap out of it, and when you do you will be more interested in karate than when you started. ItÕs been quite a ride up to this point. Karate isnÕt for everyone but I feel sorry for the people who quit because they donÕt know what their missing out on. Even more valuable than the karate are the friends that IÕve met here, like Devon and Jordan who always amaze me with their abilities. Devon, I call the robot, because he seems to be impervious to pain and fear. ThereÕs Wendie, by night known as ÒSuper WendieÓ. Dylan, my personal punching bag/little brother I never had, Andrea, and Seth-of-death and his family (my family away from family). Seth gets this cruel pleasure out of doing cool jump-360-kicks into my face right in the middle of crowded public places, like at the Old Mill. ThereÕs Barb and Gabi, who are without a doubt two of the hardest working people here. Then there is Dan,who is as much of a teacher to me as a student. There are many others, including those who have had to leave the dojo like Shaun, Kim, David, Trevor, and Glen, guys IÕm glad I got to meet, and I hope will come back soon. Of course, thereÕs Brian and Kristina who have been great teachers to me and have been very generous with the opportunities that they have given me. I also wouldnÕt have been able to do any of this without the support of my parents, letting me steal their car all the time and drive like a crazy man to my classes and private lessons. TheyÕve worked very hard in helping me to get to this point, and have done every thing they could to help me do well. IÕm very thankful for their dedication to my karate. During the time of the move from the old dojo I injured my knee on uneven ground. The first doctor that I went to told me that I had probably torn some cartilage, and that if the swelling didnÕt go down in a week I would need surgery. I didnÕt like the sound of that very much. I was worried about how this would effect my martial arts, so I went to another doctor. This time I got a different story. He explained that it would probably take a month or so for the swelling to go down, certainly not just a week. He was right. I took care of my knee, and in about a month and a half it was nearly one-hundred percent. I was kind of shocked at the first doctor. He would have had me get a surgery I didnÕt need, a surgery that probably would have messed up my knee more than the injury did, but I was thankful that God was protecting me. I hated being away from karate and couldnÕt wait to get back into it, but after about a month of walking around like a pirate I was able to start training again. I believe that God has a purpose for my martial arts. I donÕt know what it is, but I know itÕs there. I believe that this is a task that God has given me and that I have a responsibility to try to give it my all. I thank Him for letting me put my strength into something I love and IÕm optimistic about the future. My goal is to be more like Christ and to point my students towards Him so that they can feel the same sense of purpose that faith in God lets me feel. Brown II leading up to Red has been a big time of growth for me. IÕve learned some things, like how I hate having to make open forms. Brown II has been a blast though, and IÕm almost sorry to see it go (almost). ItÕs hard to believe that as a red belt IÕll be only a year or so away from black. ThatÕs crazy. Coming up like we have (in a school with no black belts except Sensei) it seems almost like we will never reach black belt. I canÕt believe that this is my last test in the dojo. IÕm not quite sure how to feel about that. I have bitter-sweet feelings. I wonÕt wax too emotional just yet however, thereÕs still the mountain to look forward to, but I have this crazy feeling that when it's all done IÕm going to miss our rank tests. Luckily the journey doesnÕt end there.

Getting my black belt in karate has been my goal since I was four years old. Testing to red belt is the most exciting, crazy, nerve-wracking, dangerous, wonderful thing I've ever done, and I'm so eager to keep going. I love doing karate because its more than a practical self defense, but a way to live by; a passion, a dream. It's a path that can lead a person in so many different directions, but it's up to you to choose who you'll be as a martial artist, and how you'll live your life.

I think it's essential in karate to know that there is never an end, and it's you who ends it at black belt, or when you've "mastered" it. To me, there are really no lines to stay inside, and the only way to achieve is to color outside the lines of karate. My personal goal is to let go of my fears and never look back and wish I could have done better or pushed harder.

One of my favorite parts of karate is the blue gi program, because teaching and sharing such an amazing sport can be so hard, but it's so much fun! It has also been amazing to watch the dojo grow, and see so many different people come and go.

I love how karate is an art that is so challenging, but someone can get so much out of it. Even the push-ups, sit-ups and pull-ups and horse stances and grit are an art in their own way, because karate is about doing everything you're afraid of. At the dojo, there are so many things that I would never have imagined doing, or never wanted to do, that I have done, and I'm glad I did. There are so many invisible walls that can be broken through with spirit.

Thank you to everyone who has helped me get here!!!

It feels strange to sit down and write this at long last. I remember being a purple belt and wondering if I would ever stand here today and read this to you. But here I am, standing in front of you reading this after years of sweating and bleeding, after hundreds, most likely thousands, of classes and many, many hours spent training. The path to this test has been the most enjoyable experience of my life and it truly does make me sad to see it coming to a close. Obviously, I still have one more. The Big One. The Mountain. But that one is different. It's such a huge step up, the test itself and the training. I mean this when I say it, I'm looking forward to it very, very much.
 

The training to reach this point has been difficult but I can honestly say I have enjoyed every minute of it. I started training in September 2005. I was ten years old, shorter than Kristina, and had the punching power of an 80 year old woman. I wasn't the one who wanted to do Karate, my parents, literally forced me to join. I had no desire to join and if it was up to me I wouldn't have ever signed up. Another reason to listen to your parents. I had done Shorin-Ryu Karate for a little while, at my cousin’s dojo in Portland, where I lived before I moved to Bend. I enjoyed that but it wasn't exactly my "favorite thing.” So joining the dojo wasn’t exactly something I was very excited to do. I remember my first class at this school very well. Sensei telling me how we bow, doing blocks and punches, and doing self defenses. This was back in the day when Low #1 had a foot sweep. Not the single leg takedown. After that introductory lesson, I had a slight change of heart. I practically begged my parents to take me to class every night. Those classes were like big private lessons due to the low number of students. I don't remember many classes as a white belt but I do remember a tiny bit of my test. I tested at the very first rank test in the dojo and have been the first one to test for each new belt, up until these last two. I remember doing jump front kicks on the mitts with Walker and Brett. And doing the kata with my eyes closed. I received my yellow belt along with ten or so other kids. And then after our test the adults tested. J-Rod, Kristina, Tim, Wendie, and a few others. They all made it through and so began yellow belt.
 

At my first yellow belt class I realized how different it was from white. I did partner side kicks with Brett, went over our new Japanese, and did the crescent kick line from Heian Sandan. I can't remember any classes after that but I do remember how much I absolutely loved yellow belt. The new katas were exciting and so were the new self defenses. I always thought it was so awesome that we had a knife defense. I went through the belt and it came time to test for blue. I can’t recall much of the test except for two moments. One was doing Japanese Kihons with Kaleb and Zach. They weren't doing so well and I was getting them correct so Sensei told me I could sit down. I remember feeling very proud of myself. The other thing I remember was my first encounter with a certain someone. Someone named Sensei Evan. A short bearded man with what appeared to be no muscle mass. I sure changed that opinion the first time he punched me. I remember sparring him and another student at the same time and thinking how much fun that was. This of course was back when I had a never ending gas tank. I remember getting my blue belt and so began the belt that everyone seems to dread.

I had heard from Sensei that most people quit at blue belt, which just made me twice as motivated to make it through. Blue belt was pretty much a blur but the one class I remember was when we were working on the sidekick/elbow line from Heian Yodan with Trevor. I still have an epic picture that Kristina took of me doing the kick. I also competed at my first tournament that year in Medford. I got a 1^st, 2^nd, and a 3^rd place. I enjoyed that but it didn’t really do it for me. Perhaps my competitive nature hadn’t set in yet. I also remember how much I loved Heian Godan. Still to this day my favorite kata. It’s just one of those forms that makes me feel like a total ninja when I perform it. Blue belt was the most enjoyable belt for me. I loved the katas, self defenses, and hook kick. To this day my favorite and, in my not so humble opinion, most technically sound kick. I don't remember anything whatsoever of the purple belt test. I did pass and was very happy that I wasn't one of those people who didn't make it past the blue belt of death.

Purple belt was interesting. For the first time I had to make up my own self defenses and had my first encounter with Bossai Sho. A kata which still gives me fits. Also that year something very devastating happened. My Sensei's Sensei, Stuart Quan, passed away. I remember I was at class one night and Sensei looked awful. None of us knew what had happened. When we lined up at the end of class Sensei told us. There were gasps of surprise, Sensei broke out in tears, and left to the back room. He didn't come out so Kristina had to teach the remaining classes. I remember feeling so awful for Sensei. I imagine it felt like he had lost his father. And I also felt sad myself that I never got to meet him and he would never be able to watch one of my tests. It was a heartbreaking moment for the entire school and I don’t think I’ll ever forget that day. So continued the year and soon it was time to test. And once again, I don't remember anything from the purple two test. I don’t exactly know why I don’t remember most of these first few tests. It was probably due to my young age at the time. And even though while writing this I’ve brought a lot of testing memories back, they are so blurred together I wouldn’t be able to tell you which tests it was. But anyway, I passed, and so began purple two.

I remember learning Bossai Dai and Tekki San, and loving random self defense. The freedom in the random attacks was great. Being able to do what ever I wanted to when I was attacked was great and it’s still one of my favorite things to do. Believe it or not, there was a time when I didn’t like sparring. It was mostly due to the fact that I was very afraid of getting hit. That changed in Purple two. I joined the adult class because I was thirteen. I was growing up, getting some muscle, and learning how to take a shot better. So getting hit wasn’t quite as terrible as it used to be. Gradually I became more and more used to getting hit until finally I could actually make it through a sparring class without being terrified the entire time. I enjoyed sparring a lot from then on and to this day it has become my favorite thing to do in class. At purple two not only did the sparring but the entire art of karate started to change for me. It became harder. No longer did I go through classes without breaking a sweat. No longer did it take little effort for me to hold a sidekick up and no longer could I hold stances for what seemed an indefinite amount of time. Karate was getting tougher and rougher but I was getting rougher and tougher with it.

When it came time to test for Brown one, it was just Wendie, Kristina, and me. Prep for the test was the usual working out, practicing kata and so forth. But it definitely had a different vibe. A much more serious one. About a week before the test after a class where my performance had obviously been lackluster, Sensei pulled me aside and told me he didn't think I should test and to just wait a little while for the next one. Hearing that from him disappointed me a lot. But I told him ok, I would wait. I went down the stairs and got in the car and told my dad. Let's just say he wasn't ecstatic about hearing that. I still remember what he said to me but I won't repeat it as there was a pretty excessive amount of profanity. I completely understand why he was so upset. He had done all of this stuff for me to get ready. Driving me to practices, extra classes, etc. But basically he told me pass or fail I was testing. I told Sensei that next class that I was testing, he said okay, and that was that. I don’t think I slept that entire week. That Saturday I walked onto the mats feeling like throwing up. I truly expected to fail based on what Sensei had said. Sitting in the back room with Kristina and Wendie, I remember that still like it had happened last week. I have never felt that nervous in my entire life and I know they felt the same way. We sat in the back and just paced back and forth telling really bad jokes and laughing just out of sheer terror and nervousness in anticipation for what lied ahead. Sensei Brian and, to my dismay, Sensei Evan were in the office having their pre test chat while this was going on. It was the first Brown test of the dojo so I had no idea what to expect. When Sensei told us to line up I think I probably blacked out a little. We did our pre test ritual, stood up and began our test. I recall just about that entire test. I won't go through it all but I'll just say that still, until today perhaps, it was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. One moment that stood out was doing Bossai Dai. I had messed up several katas before that, something I didn't usually do a lot at tests. I was at the back hand block and I was so tired that I just stopped doing the kata. I straightened up and took a deep breath. And I said exactly this to myself: "Oh well, I guess I fail then.” Sensei stopped me told me to take a deep breath and restart. While doing Bossai Dai, again, I spent most of the form chewing myself out for saying and believing something like that. I was not happy about saying that to myself and promised myself for the rest of the test I would go 110% and even if I failed, or died, I would go out with a bang. The rest of the test was tough but to my pleasure went fairly smoothly. Up until Kristina accidentally head butted me during random self defense. I've never had a headache that bad in my life. I had it the rest of the test and probably the week after. Every time I kiai'd it felt like my heart was in my skull, beating and thumping. It was horrible. Even though it was awful, it probably was for the best. It made me have to be even tougher and I grew from that. Sparring was also horrible due to me being an idiot and instead of attacking I decided I’d rather stay back and catch my breath. Stupid, stupid, stupid. My match with Sensei turned into one of those five minute matches that by the end I wished I had just been aggressive so I would’ve been finished sooner. Another lesson learned. My favorite part of that test I have to say though was the board breaking. It was the first time I had to break a board with a punch and a jump sidekick. Sensei Evan was holding the first board for the punch and behind me Mark was holding one for a spinning hook kick, and finally Sensei Brian was standing on a chair for the jump sidekick. I broke them all on the first try and walking over to the side with a little smile, holding my boards I remember Wendie whispering “dang, wish I could do that.” That made me feel awesome. Both Kristina and Wendie puked during that test and I managed not to do that, barely, but my puke would get revenge on me at the next test. We made it through that test, received our belts, and I think it's the most important test I've had. It taught me that Bushido spirit, the never give up spirit. How to overcome the exhaustion to reach our final goal. It was the first time I had to really dig deep at a test and doing that taught me a lot about myself. And so began brown belt. By far the most important belt in my Karate life and my non-Karate life.

We started learning Jiu-Jitsu, which I now train separately from Karate, and did no gear sparring, takedowns, all that jazz. For a few months it was just three of us in the brown class until a few other people decided to crash the party. Around then the announcement was made: the dojo was moving. No longer would our Wushu staffs strike the ceiling and no longer could we only do three move kihon combinations. I was very excited for the move, and even though it was certainly a bit sad to move, it was the time. Classes were getting too full and the katas too long. The anticipation was great because I had no idea what the new place looked like. I remember the first time seeing it and being just blown away at the size of the place. From our previous school it’s like comparing a 7/11 to a Costco. The first few classes were very exciting; all this open matt space was great. We could actually have more then five people doing Bossai Sho at once. But for a very long time it felt a lot different. We hadn’t created many memories their, so it didn’t quite feel like “home.” But that would change pretty quickly. Karate went on as usual but then I began to slowly notice a pain in my knees. Which I didn’t know at the time but the experiences going through it would prove to be one of the most important of my life.

Gradually the pain in my knees became awful. When I would squat down and then stand back up or hold a stance for more then fifteen seconds, I would almost cry just from the pain. Not only did it feel horrible but it didn’t sound to pretty either. It sounded like old brakes on a car whenever I stood up from what I was doing. I went to the physical therapist, got x-rayed, and was told that there was pretty much nothing separating my knee caps from the bone. I pulled out of Karate temporarily and began physical therapy. For the next few months my life consisted of knee workouts, eating, and sleeping. The knee workouts were to build up muscle between the knee caps and the knee itself to prevent them rubbing together every time I bent my leg. It took a long time for me to see any improvement but after a few months I began to feel better. I’m not sure what happened while I was on my hiatus from the martial arts but somehow I had completely lost the passion and no matter how hard I tried I just couldn’t find it. I had also gained quite a bit of weight during the whole ordeal. Now, not to make excuses, but I don’t exactly have a fantastic metabolism or great genes. The Newman family simply isn’t built like a bunch of lean gymnasts! I think it was the lack of exercise that caused the weight gain because I hadn’t changed my eating habits yet I had gained a lot of weight. I returned to Karate feeling pretty sick of it. And somehow during a talk with Sensei, Brazilian Jiu Jitsu, which Sensei Roy Dean now taught at our old dojo, came up. I decided to give it a try.

The first time I pulled guard and slapped on a Kimura I fell in love. I started training at Roy’s academy three or four times a week. Putting in a good 8-10 hours of training a week. I started to eat better, and in three months I had lost 35 lbs. My mom was very jealous of that. To this day, over a year and a half later, I still love BJJ every bit as much as my first class.

I started training Karate more but I didn’t have the same drive. I just didn’t enjoy it like I used too. I was in a rut and wanted out. I can honestly say I was an e-mail away from quitting. I still don’t know why I felt that way, I really don’t. I just did. One day on the way to class sitting in the car I was thinking about all the times I’ve had at the dojo, all the lessons, and years spent achieving brown belt. I thought what would life be like without Karate and it hit me. It would be awful. Horrible. You guys might think I’m exaggerating when I say this but I mean it. I live my life for Jesus and the Martial Arts. Without either I honestly would have no purpose in life. I have never enjoyed school a whole lot, I prefer to exercise my body more then my mind and quitting Karate would just be an impossible thing for me to do. Completely impossible. Like I would get all the way to brown belt and then quit? Yeah right. I felt fantastic that night. I rocked everything with 100% effort and Sensei noticed. A few months later and the talk of my testing was already coming up. I haven’t had any notions about quitting Karate for even a millisecond since that time. After that I also began to be able to teach my own private lessons for some money, which I have most definitely enjoyed. I love teaching and to be able to actually earn a bit of money for doing it is incredibly awesome and I’m very thankful I get to do it.

Three or four months later it was time for the brown two test. Due to the amount of time I had missed I was far off the usual testing pattern. Kristina, Wendie, and a few other were already well into brown two. So, I had a choice to make: Test now in November, by myself, or wait until the end of January. I don’t like waiting. I set up the private test and began training. I was fairly calm leading up to my test, and I even woke up the morning of the test feeling pretty good. I drove to the dojo and got onto the mats, and even then I was feeling good. “Line up Seth.” Still good. “Seiza.” Still good. “Close your eyes.” Still good. “Open them.” Still good. “Stand up.” Not so good. A wave of adrenaline swept through me as I thought “I’m about to do this aren’t I?” After one form I was already dead tired. Major cardiovascular preparation fail on my part. The test was rough, for sure. But all in all I was very happy with my performance, not too many mistakes, and even though I was exhausted I still kept on trucking. I was so tired I was on the verge of puking the entire last third of the test. I had to stop a couple times to go stand over the bucket and swallowed a bit of puke several times. I managed to make it through the forms without spitting my insides out but sparring was next. I had learned some lessons from my last test and this time I came in and got the job done. Sparring went quickly and smoothly but then I had to spar Sensei. Bare knuckled. I was so tired and so pumped up I didn’t feel any of his punches and in fact I enjoyed myself quite a bit. I sure felt those punches the next day though. I saved my puke for after the bare knuckled session where I finally had to let a bit of it loose in the bathroom. I can honestly say I felt pretty good after that. I received my wonderful piece of white tape and so began the belt I’m wearing right now, brown two.

Brown two got off to a great start for me. I had a horrible sickness early on which kept me out for two or three months. I’m pretty sure I had pneumonia but managed to get over it by myself. About a month after that I was at a tournament and the day before it started I violently sprained my ankle. It was so bad that it kept me out for almost two months. Not a great start. By June it was Kristina’s time to test for red belt. The first in the dojo. Her performance that day raised the bar of testing. It was an unbelievable display of skill. She looked like she wasn’t even trying. At one point during random self defense I was being a little pill and wouldn’t let her take me down. Being around 11-12 inches taller and outweighing her by around 70 lbs, I figured she wouldn’t be able to take me down that hard. Wrong. She threw me over her so hard that it knocked the wind out of me longer then it’s ever gone out for. It was a solid 10-15 seconds before I could breathe properly. Even though my back was killing me I couldn’t help but smile about how awesome that was. She passed with flying colors and was the first and only red belt in the dojo. A few months later it was Dylan, my little brother from another mother, Wendie, my second mother, and Devon, the kid who just scares me. Ben, another brother, and Gabi were also testing for brown two. Another rock solid performance by all of them. I remember how impressed I was, with Devon especially. Devon was always a kid who was fairly short, didn’t look too physically imposing, and sure didn’t act like it. That changed for that test. The look he had in his eye was just frightening and he still has that look all the time. Like he’s looking straight into your soul. During sparring I hit him with a roundhouse kick dead in the face, gave him a bloody nose instantly. He didn’t change his expression, didn’t even flinch. That impressed me, a lot.

I thought those tests were worth mentioning, because they are a lot of what motivated me for this test. Also, Dylan being in front of me in line. Not cool. But it was well earned D. When the training gets rough I think about their tests and how I want to perform like them. How I will perform like them. And hopefully I did perform like them today.

My Karate journey has been a rough one, a long one, full of surprises and new challenges to attack. And that’s exactly why I love it. I can honestly say with all my heart that joining this dojo was the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I have learned so much from my experiences here. Deeper then just Karate. This dojo isn’t just a Karate school to me. I don’t come to class to just learn how to improve my sidekicks or to learn a new kata. I come to learn about life and all the lessons that it offers. The lessons that this dojo have taught me will live with me forever. My Sensei and his wife have been the most influential people in my life outside of my family and I hope I can grow up to be half the man my Sensei is.
 

I know now, with no doubt in my mind, that someday after coming down from the mountain, bruised and bloody, I will have my black belt that’s in that glass case put around my waist. And I hope I can be a black belt, and a person, that will make my Sensei Brian and my Sensei Stuart proud.

Great life lessons. Protection . Fun. I have loved my karate experience. My karate journey has been hard but also a blast! After trying other sports, I started karate and now I have been doing it for a little over five years. Today, karate has been full of obstacles but very fun. I have no idea what is coming next but I am sure of black belt. It’s a wonderful way to make friends. Karate has been the best thing ever.

My karate journey began when I was six years old. I had tried out other sports and did not really enjoy them. My mom called a martial arts place in Bend and we were ready for me to start Tai kwon Do. The day she made that call a letter from Kristina appeared on the Homeschool Yahoo Group telling about a new dojo she and Brian were just opening! Something about that letter made my mom just “know” that this was the right place for me to start martial arts. I had my very first private lesson in August, 2005, and right after it I took the very first class in the dojo with one other boy and it was a blast! I knew karate was the sport for me. Karate has been arduous yet also extremely rewarding. Once there was a very close call at a rank test a few years ago. Even though Heian Sandan is a yellow belt kata it has been a challenging kata along with Bossia Sho and its mirror image which I nick-named my “unbeatable man.” Karate has been an extraordinary journey since the beginning.

My karate journey today is full of new challenges. It has been a year of stretching and growing for me. I have gained confidence, coordination and a greater amount of determination. This year, being a Brown II, I have had to take a few breaks. Not being able to be at the dojo every day has been hard for me. However, being able to practice at home and with friends has been great! It has been difficult sometimes to find time to be with my friends, except the great friends that I have made in karate. I love karate! Even though it has been a hard year, I never wanted to give up. I never quit. Tournaments are another extremely fun part of karate. I love the thrill of competing, especially with katas. Karate today has been filled with numerous challenges, much growth, and has been worth it!

The future. What comes next? I do not exactly know what the future will hold, other than black belt, of course! The skills I have learned these past five years will help me become an adult of high character. This is especially true since living by the Code of the Samurai: Justice, Honor, Courage, Duty, Compassion, Courtesy and Honesty is very important in my life. Karate is definitely beneficial and quite rewarding on many levels. It’s a great physical and mental workout and it’s good to know how to protect yourself. So, I will share martial arts with people all my life. Who knows what the future will hold!

Karate is a great way to make friends and stay fit. I have enjoyed karate for more than five years after attempting other sports. During my most challenging year of karate, I never gave up. Although the future is unknown, karate will always remain a significant part of my life. Karate is awesome because of the life lessons taught and being able to protect myself and my family and friends. I love karate for many reasons, the great life lessons, self defense and the fun of it.

If I am reading this to you, it hopefully means that I am almost done with the hours of sweat and tears. I hope that I have tested as hard and sharp as I could possible go. Right now though, I want to recall what I did to get here.

I started karate four and a half years ago when Jason Kasari invited meto go and watch one of his white belt classes. I decided that it looked fun, so my parents signed me up. I did not take the discipline very seriously, but I took pride in knowing things like tae kiyoku shodan. At the white to yellow belt test, I thought it was fun and I hardly broke a sweat. My brother and I took a private blue belt test. This kind of reinforced the false idea that rank tests are fairly easy events that are just long, difficult classes. I advanced through the belts, each time thinking that black belt was so far away, until about the time of my first degree brown belt rank test. This test was different than the others; different in the way that I had to push to my limit. This, of course, made me all the more glad when it was finished,but that test made me look at karate with more respect; as an art, and a discipline. My view of rank tests were also changed; rank tests were now something to be feared. The second degree brown belt test was also quite demanding, but I, and those who tested with me, pushed through. Now black belt looked pretty close, and it also made me realize how far I had already gone. At this point, only about ten people were still doing karate from the time that my brother and I started.

If you told me five years ago that I would be testing for a red belt, I would not have believed you, but here I am, in the last part of my last test inside the dojo building.

I am very glad that I joined this dojo. I have found many good friends, and have enjoyed the classes. I have enjoyed the challenge that karate presents. It makes me keeps pushing my own physical limits. I have found that karate is unique in the way that you can always improve, and the step to getting better is not impossible.

Before I end, I want to thank my family for supporting me every step of the way. I want to thank my friends and everybody here for coming to help, encourage, and support me here today. Oss. Oss. I also want to thank Sensei Brian for setting a great example for his students, and being such a great teacher in every respect, and Kristina, who runs the dojo.

Thank you, Oss.

"Dear Wendie,

All of our searches and ambitions, whether they be for material, physical, or emotional success or perfection – all of them are veiled searches for enlightenment. For it is this that will truly quench the thirst inside us.

Happy Birthday – Lyle and Andrea"
-January 2008

I’ve composed so many drafts of this essay, it seems strange to sit down yet again five days before my test and put in the final touches. My first draft was composed over six months ago, edited and redrafted again, and re-edited just shortly after Kristina’s red belt test. Even in that short period, my experiences have yet again reshaped my martial arts spirit. I originally wanted to invite as many close family and friends to my red belt test as I could. It was my last test in the dojo, after all. I wanted as many folks as possible to experience it with me. Now, I’d almost prefer it to be a closed test. I relish the cheering section and the support during tests and will be thankful to hear each and every one. Yet, my heart and soul will be somewhere very different - focused on me, my sensei, and my mountain.

Amazing. Evolution. The transformation from one form to another. I sit here today in a different form than I was 5 years ago on so many different levels. It amazes me how some other Martial arts schools can pass students from white belt to red belt in just 18 months. To me, that says a lot about the evolution of western influence over martial arts. Thankfully, a man named Stuart Quan chose not to have a school whose sole purpose was to push students through, teach them a quasi-form of martial arts. Instead, he chose the path of love, discipline, hard work, and honor. Stuart’s school produced true black belts, whose foundation was build on the bushido code – justice, honor, honesty, courtesy, compassion, duty, and courage. And from that school came one of the most gifted teachers I have ever known.

In 2005 I was the acting branch manager of my former investment firm. We were the Ribbon Cutting sponsors for the Bend Chamber of Commerce. One of our responsibilities was to introduce new business leaders to the community during a ribbon cutting ceremony. One of our advisors took the lead that day because I could not be in attendance. The business was Sortor Bushido Kai Karate. The next day, the advisor who did the ribbon cutting could not stop talking about this cool new karate school and its teacher. “A young guy,” he said. “And someone that should be in the movies. The weapons he used, man. Unbelieveable. Wendie, you have to go meet this guy.”

I did. And that’s when the changes began. My intent was to re-learn some self defense techniques I had learned years ago and maybe get in some regular exercise. I truly had no idea how much of an impact training at this school would have on my life. Most of it very positive changes, but along the way a sometimes very difficult, fearful, and painful journey.

My very first gi proudly bears the patch of Stuart Quan’s Bushido Kai Karate. Our dojo was so new we didn’t yet have our own patches and the curriculum was still being worked on by Sensei Brian and his sensei, Sensei Stuart. Tragically, only 5 months later, Stuart died unexpectedly of a heart defect at the age of 44. The events following are nothing anyone should have to go through in their lifetime. I watched my Sensei, my friend, courageously make it through a day’s worth of teaching classes until finally, he couldn’t hold in the pain any longer and he finally let the flood of tears find their way down his face. Everything had changed and Kristina and Brian had to reinvent a dojo, all the while dealing with their grief. What you see when you walk through the dojo doors today is a result of that change and strength and one I know Stuart would have been incredibly proud of. The world lost an amazing light, but we are all lucky enough to experience some of Stuart’s glory through our own Sensei. Every now and then we’ll experience something together - the Las Vegas Tournament, being at Randy Couture’s UFC after party, watching Kung Fu Hustle and eating popcorn….and I can see Brian’s mind wander to a different place, one where Stuart is in the room with us, celebrating, experiencing this together with all of us. Sensei Brian created the Stuart Quan Memorial Workout on January 8^th of each year. I encourage all students to never miss it. Not even once.

Kristina and I started as white belts together, along with 6 other adult students. Now, only she and I remain from the original 8. An arduous, tearful, and jubilant journey it has been. The demands we put ourselves through border on masochistic – all for a reward that ends in a black cloth around your waist. It is not the belt, you know. Maybe it was in the beginning. It certainly wasn’t so my husband and I could spend thousands of dollars for me to exercise. It wasn’t so I could learn how to use weapons; I own guns. It wasn’t so I could have a hope chest full of trophies and medals. A large part of it was for self preservation and protection. Living in the world we live in today warranted my exposure to self defense. But, it’s also turned into the discovery. It’s the wonder of what is waiting for me on the mountain and what will be there waiting for me after. Will I be different? Will I give up? Do I have what it takes to meet that challenge, to climb that mountain, face my Sensei, face my weaknesses, thrive on my strengths, do the work, and come down together? What’s that saying – ‘Everything will be ok in the end. If it’s not ok, it’s not the end.’

The journey to red belt for me has been like sailing the open sea – days of calm, mesmerizing waters, days of frustration because of lack of wind in my sails to carry me along to my destination, and days of the pure perfect storm when I’d just as soon throw myself overboard. Then the clouds part, I find myself exhausted, but thankful to see the sun yet again. I made it this far. Bring it on, I say. Bring it on.

It’s been a journey from self doubt to self awareness. Evolving from the “awkward white belt knife hand to having a reverse punch with striking power of 300 lbs.” kind of self discovery. What do I have inside of me to make that transition? I cannot put it into words.

I remember Kristina saying at a test once, “We all need to learn to be ok with failure.” For some, it’s learning to be ok with success as well. I didn’t earn one of my patches at a patch workshop. “It’s waiting for you,” Sensei said. “Super,” I thought. “While everyone else progresses, I sit here like a dope trying to figure out the problem.” My problem was – the mirror image of Bossai Sho. My arch nemises. Still, to this day whenever I hear Bossai Sho Mirror Image, my stomach begins to turn. The failures…

We attended a tournament in Portland where the under belts had the opportunity to compete for an under belt Grand Champion trophy. Kristina won first place in traditional forms that day, and I won first place in Open forms. So, we’d have to compete against one another. There I was, twisted up inside having to compete again against one of my very best friends, my training partner, and my Sensei’s wife, but still driven to give it my all. I won the Grand Champion trophy that day. Brian and Kristina drove back to Bend and I stayed in Portland overnight. Sitting at dinner by myself, in a public restaurant, the events of the day began to unfold again, and the tears began to fall into my lap. Tears of joy, sadness…fear. Mostly, I wanted to fade away, walk into the dojo each day and just be Wendie, not Grand Champion Wendie, not Scary Wendie, not Bully Wendie, not Princess of Pain Wendie, but just Wendie. But, the spirit abounds and I can’t help but be all of those things. The successes…

And that includes, Sensei Wendie. Experiencing all of those things, all of those feelings, all of the successes and failures, all of the bruises, all of the a laughter, all of the crushing blows, both physically and emotionally – cannot do anything but help one be a better teacher. It helps me be real, compassionate, honest. It also helps me push the students harder and farther than they think they can go. My Sensei did it for me, and I intend to do it as well. Not only with the students, but with myself and do it to my training partners as well.

And one day, I can’t really say when, I realized a bond began. Maybe it was the day we met, maybe it was our first training session together, I can’t really say. But I realized training wasn’t about just me, it was about US. An entity had formed that had so much momentum, so much power and energy, it exploded into one of the most powerful and wonderful relationships I’ve ever had. I remember during one of our classes, maybe blue belt, but I actually think it might have been yellow belt, Kristina and I were the only two students taking the class. We struggled through our kihon drills, we struggled through self defenses, and finally, Sensei Brian sat us both down and asked, “Why do you take karate?” We just kind of sat there, looking at each other. The answers that came out made it clear to me – she was the yin to my yang. She was the perfect balance as a training partner, and of course, as a friend. At Purple II, it all began to sink in – we’re almost brown belts. Being the first to test for each belt level made the physical demands at this level hard to get the mind around. We didn’t know what to expect. We knew we had to demonstrate competence in over 28 kata, kihon drills that took on a life of their own, random attacks and with multiple attackers – and since blue belt – we had Sensei Evan. Only a few in our dojo have had the pleasure to test with not just one black belt, but two. The anticipation of dual sensei tests gave my summers a whole new meaning. Then, BROWN belt…this was IT. We had to seize the opportunity to get ready…not just technically, but physically. That’s when we began our weekly independent training sessions together. We each had a day by day, month by month, play by play, step by step road map from Brown, to Brown II to Red.

Then my biggestchallenges began. Accepting that I had progressed to such a level in karate was very difficult for me to accept. Yet, I was here. My sense of self started to change and I almost didn’t feel deserving to be a brown belt. I suffered multiple injuries (mostly from dirt biking) and my body was starting to show the signs of age. My body aches or hurts in one form or another daily. I began my search for balance, peace, and some sense of self acceptance. I read some incredible mind, body, and spirit books as I trained from brown to brown II. I got sick right before my brown II test and was not well enough to make the date. Sensei Evan was here and everything was set. I even made my brown II pedicure. Then, I had to face the realization that I could not perform at my peak being sick, or even recovering. We pushed back the test and it was just Kristina and I, again, taking that next step together. Another test behind us, our brown belts were beginning to wear, now becoming discolored and pliable from years of sweat. The next training year was the most difficult yet. I had set a goal to win my class in the spring opener of my favorite motorcycle race. My motorcycle racing and training demand commitments and focus of their own, and add to my struggle for balance between two very real and strong passions. If I was to get hurt, that could potentially delay my red belt test. A chance I had to take. My professional career had always been demanding, and then my partner and I made a decision to take our business to a new level, which meant switching firms. The time and commitment this would take would be all consuming for us both and we both had to make some sacrifices. Mine was testing for my red belt at the same time as Kristina. The decision I did not take lightly, and it weighed on my soul so heavily, it was almost suffocating at times. Kristina and I talked and talked about it, and she asked me, “Is it more important to test with me or to really nail this test.” I said, “This is our last one in the dojo. I want to nail it.” We both knew what this meant.

It was agonizing not sitting in seiza with Kristina for her test. We both made conscious choices in the best interest of each other, our training, and out of respect for all we had gone through together. I learned so many incredible lessons from that one experience. And now, my time has come.

Many lessons still lie ahead for me, to black belt and beyond. The martial arts journey is one of humility and strength. Never give up. Never believe there is nothing more to learn. Never tell yourself you’ve mastered a form. Train to take that hit. Train to make that hit. Believe in yourself. Get off the couch when you don’t want to. Train hard. Then train harder.

“Today is your day! Your mountain is waiting so be on your way!”

"I've been taking karate for a little over four years and its been awesome. This seems like the only sport I've ever had success in. One part of this is that when you get partners, you are matched to size and not age; this is important to me because for most of my life I have been the shortest one on the team/or in class.

I enjoy karate because its challenging, physically demanding, and you can always get better at it. I think the highlights of karate are the rank tests . Rank tests help you determine your rate of improvement, and help you find a new limit in power and technique. Aside from being a test of knowledge, it is also physically exhausting. This shows how hard and how long you can go even when you're tired. It is an accomplishment to finish one doing it at your best.

In between rank tests,without the pressure of an upcoming test, I have found that the amount of time I spent practicing would drop quite a bit, along with the power behind my movements. I think that helping in lower belt classes has helped me a lot with remembering my kata and Japanese kihon commands. Through teaching, I have become even more familiarized with the curriculum.

Through the four years of my training, I found that my biggest weakness was the intensity of my movements. I think that one of my strengths has been keeping good technique in my movements.

During the B2 test, I felt that I was pretty well balanced with power and technique, though I have never been more tired or stressed before. I was especially stressed during the sparring, with the constant strikes against me from two fresh opponents, and then from sensei, who kept pushing me to go harder.

To those who plan to go all the way to black, I would advise to practice at home. Though you might be able to get through white, yellow, and maybe blue belt without practicing on your own, it always helps and you will definitely need it on your way to higher belts."

"My journey so far has been hard, but fun.  As a white belt, I couldn't really imagine testing for black belt; heck, I couldn't even imagine testing for purple belt.  But now as I'm a second degree brown belt, I realize I can get my black belt.

There are many reasons why I want to become a red belt.  One of the reasons is that I want to have my own dojo someday.  There are many other steps I need to complete this goal.  But first of all, I need to become a black belt.  Red belt is one step closer to my own dojo and self accomplishment.

The reason I want to own my own dojo is because I have fun watching how kids grow as martial artists from what I say and do.  The one class I taught was a blast.  Every time I would learn something new, I would get this feeling of excitement and knowledge, and I hope one day the students I teach will feel that too.

I first learned I was getting into karate on Christmas when I opened up one of my presents and found a gi.  I didn't know what it was at first until my parents told me that it was a gi for karate.  I was really excited for the rest of Christmas.  It's been about five years since that day.  And those years have had their ups and downs, but they were the best years ever.

Looking back, I never thought I would love karate as much as I do today.  When I joined karate, I didn't think I was going to make it as far as I did after hearing how most people drop out before purple belt.

So now I stand here after hours of testing.  I'm glad that I joined this dojo and not any of the other ones we looked at, because joining this dojo is probably the best choice Iv'e ever made."

"Wow, my last test in the dojo is complete! This journey has truly been the most transformative experience of my life. I believe it has changed me and grown me as a person more than any other single event or process in my life. In more ways than I could possibly innumerate, it has been worth all of the hard work, trials, tears, stress and sweat, 1000 times over.

Deciding what to write about in this essay was extremely difficult for me:  As the owner of the dojo, the wife of the sensei, the one student who has seen every rank test that the dojo has had and watched every single individual student grow and progress from white belt, as the administrator, and as a student and a sensei myself, and now the very first red belt in the dojo... there was a lot I could have written about.  Seeing the way the dojo has nurtured and grown both myself and my husband, and watching the ways it's changed us and broken our hearts sometimes, there was plenty running through my mind.

Ultimately I decided to focus on my training, my journey, in the hopes that future red belts would be informed by the path I've taken, but mostly in hopes that white belts, yellow belts, blue belts, purple belts would read this and see that it doesn't take a special type of person to succeed at anything in martial arts or in life...  it only takes making one simple choice, and making that choice every single day.

When I was thinking back on my training for red belt, I first thought how it began in January when I implemented my schedule of workouts, classes, and training sessions. So much has happened between my test for Brown II and now, many ups and downs, many lessons, many friendships and many struggles.

But then I thought back further. Back to purple belt, to yellow belt, to white belt. I thought about when we opened the dojo. Even at the time that we opened in August of 2005, I didn't have any intention of training. I was working 40 hours a week at a day job, plus nights and weekends waiting tables, and the rest of my time I spent running the dojo. I was busy, stressed, tired, adjusting to lots and lots of changes in my life - not to mention the fact that I was scared of lots of things. Having earned a black belt at the age of 11 from a sub-par school in Pittsburgh, I felt like continuing my martial arts training was a lose-lose. If I do great, it's only because I'm already a black belt. If I stink, it's worse because I had prior training as a kid and I should be better. I also didn't know how it would work with me training and also running the school, and having my husband as a sensei. There were a lot of reasons for me never to step onto the mats in the first place. But... I felt moved to start the journey. And knowing nothing about what the journey was going to hold for me, I tied on a size 2 white belt and took my first class.

And then I met Wendie.

We trained together with our class, sending frantic emails back and forth, fretting about our yellow belt test, meeting late at the dojo to practice kihon drills. My knees started to hurt, and would continue to hurt very badly for months as my body adjusted to this new type of activity. In November of 2005, I tested with about 10 or 12 adults for yellow belt. After training for all of two months together, we were one big team.

At yellow belt I ran into another hurdle. As it turns out, I had an extreme fear of sparring. I would drive home after sparring class crying in the car the whole way. One class I missed because I couldn't stop crying in the bathroom long enough to get my gear on. Every sparring class was like a root canal that lasted for an hour. I hated every moment of it. I wanted to quit. I couldn't imagine having to do this for 6 more years, every belt level, every rank test. To me, there could hardly be anything worse. I had a decision to make - quit now before people began to expect me to go all the way, or stick it out and sort through my issues. Even though every moment of it was excruciating to me, I knew this was something that was going to make me stronger. So I sorted it out. Not all at once, but day by day, moment by moment, until I could understand my fear, and then I could tolerate it, then sometimes I could even forget it for a minute or two. It would be years before I could spar without hating it, but the battle was worth it. Just never quit.

At blue belt I tested with the same group of adults. A few had quit, but most of us were still there. Sensei Evan came to our rank test. I didn't appreciate his uniqueness yet at that time, but would grow to love the special ritual of test time and Sensei Evan summers.

In blue belt, my kneesfinally started feeling better. Although I still hated sparring, I felt like I could at least spar without risking crying at any moment. I felt like I might be settling into a groove. When we tested for purple belt, the majority of my original group tested with me. Wendie, Jarod, and Tim in particular gave me strength. By the time I reached purple belt, I had been losing at tournaments to Wendie and Jarod since white belt. My careful placement of moves in just the right spots, with decent stances and crisp movements wasn't enough. Their intensity, kiais, power and strength, eye contact and effort all overwhelmed me. I was frustrated that doing it correctly wasn't good enough. I began to realize that merely correct, isn't correct. I watched Wendie intently. I didn't want to lose one bit of precision, one bit of who I was as a martial artist - I only wanted to increase it. I wanted to add some "Wendie" to my "Kristina." So at purple belt, I started to pour some fire into my training. Little by little, splashing the water from the jar for the first time.

Very few people survived purple belt with me. It was just Wendie and I, and Seth moved up to test with us. No longer a squishy little 10-year-old testing with the kids, he was a teenager and ready to hang with the adults. Wendie by now was more than just a friend, she was a training partner that I knew I'd have for life, karate or no karate. We'd been through so much together already, survived through purple belt while everyone else fell away. They all had legitimate excuses for quitting. There are thousands and millions of excuses that we all have if we want them.

But the few good reasons for NOT giving up outweigh all of that.

Training for brown belt was tough, physically and mentally. I dealt with increasing feelings of inadequacy in the face of the randomness of self defense and the unknown. The physical demands grew by leaps and bounds at this stage in my training. The test for brown belt was physically the most difficult thing I'd ever done. And again, it was Wendie, Seth and me, standing there with Sensei Brian and Sensei Evan. One more battle won.

Brown belt was difficult and different - the dojo was growing, we were running into seemingly unresolvable scheduling problems, the workload was becoming overwhelming. After how Olympic the brown belt test had been, I knew brown II wasn't going to be any cake walk. I trained for months in CrossFit and worked out with Wendie, and stacked classes, stacked katas, stacked workouts... did everything I could to be ready. The Brown II test was grueling but shorter because we were SO prepared. But it was also a little bit weird. Seth wasn't there, and neither was Evan. This time, just me, Wendie, Brian and the puke bucket. Once again, my team had gotten painfully smaller.

Brown II, in my mind, was beginner's training for black belt. Eight new forms, jiu jitsu, sparring, massive kihon drills, plus 19 lower belt forms and their mirror images, all the old self defenses and everything was piling up at this belt, and it was understood that the old way of doing it was no longer sufficient. Now, Heian Shodan needed to be something special, something ground-shaking. High #3 had a whole new meaning. My open forms had new significance.

During my brown II training for red belt, things changed even more. About 6 months into my training, the dojo went on a waiting list that we still are operating on. The schedule, the demands of parents, the students, the events, the tournament competition and travel, the economy, the process of getting so MANY many students through to the next belt level in a reasonable amount of time while continuing to motivate them in an increasingly unmotivating world, and keep our standards high at the same time - it was and is all overwhelming. While I was drowning in dojo work, unable to focus, Wendie was feeling the same thing at her job. Major changes in the structure of her work (as well as her heavy training for her last year in the under-40 division in motocross racing) caused unavoidable stress and upheaval that would not allow her to focus on training for our rest belt test that was supposed to be in June. I was training more than Wendie, but clearly not ready for a June rank test either.

Finally, one day, Wendie came into my office and sat down and told me she was not going to test this summer. Wendie, my training partner who had meant everything to me for years, and who had been the ONE constant, the only reliable strength from day 1, who had sat next to me in seiza at every single bushido kai rank test I'd ever taken... Wendie, had decided to postpone her testing.

The revelation threw me into turmoil. I had still been ramping up to take the test, training in classes 4 or 5 days a week, doing workouts at home, and dieting for 2 months. I was so busy, I knew my mind wasn't fully focused yet, but I was still moving in the right direction. If I waited, I risked missing my peak and not being ready in the fall either, typically the dojo's busiest time of the year. My fear was that the dojo would be even busier than the year before, as we have never gotten slower at the dojo, and then I would either hold Wendie back or miss testing with her anyway. If that happened, and we waited until December to test for red belt, we would also miss any chance of testing for black belt in 2011. But, if I took the red belt test in the summer anyway by myself, I would be the only one. I would be missing so much of what made me a second degree brown belt and a martial artist, so much more than what other people could possibly understand. How could I possibly choose between those two options?

I lost sleep for several weeks, went back in forth in my mind, sure that I had decided to test by myself, and then sure that I had decided to wait for Wendie no matter what. One day, talking about it with Brian, I asked, "How could I possibly test for red belt by myself? Without Wendie? After all this time?" Brian said, "It never mattered. It's only you anyway."

Of course, sensei is right. It's only me. It's only Wendie. It's only you.  It's only each of us by ourselves. At this test, every day in class, every time when we're sitting at home not wanting to go to the dojo, every time we're sitting at the computer engrossed in work, every time we get up and go to class anyway.... and especially at the black belt test. On the mountain, there are no friends and training partners. There are no family members and husbands and wives. There are no classmates. It is you, sensei and the mountain. No matter how many other people are there, it's only that.

And I realized that all this time, at white belt, purple belt, brown belt, in the bathroom crying into my sparring gear... it's always been just me, sensei and my mountain.

To everyone who trains at this dojo and tests for red belt after me, to every 6-year-old and 52-year-old testing for yellow belt, to every teenage purple II student, to every parent who wonders if their kid has what it takes to make it, I want to tell you this. On this journey, nothing will help you more than the friendships and bonds that you make with classmates and senseis. But nothing, nothing at all, no person, or training tool, or motivational trick, nothing at all will be more important than the one decision that ONLY you can make. You'll make that decision not just when you're standing tall on top of the mountain, or when everyone is clapping for you at a tournament - mostly you'll make this decision when you're struggling in class, when you don't feel good enough, when you feel like staying at home or doing something else instead of training, when you don't know anyone in your new karate class, when you are recovering from an injury, when you're being lazy. This decision is one that no one else can make for you, but it is the one thing that will make you a black belt, inside and out.

It is, simply, thedecision to never, ever quit."