I had always been fascinated with martial arts.
Ever since the first time I saw Captain James T. Kirk lay out a guard with a swift karate chop to the back of the neck or James West drop a gunslinger with a "judo chop" as my Dad called it (I'd learn the incorrectness of that term later) I wanted to learn Karate.
Then of course came Bruce Lee and everyone emulated his fighting style..and unfortunately his battle cry...it sounded great when Bruce did it, but looking back we just sounded like idiots.

We set up bags and kicked and punched and watched Kung Fu movies and honed our skills till we thought we were invincible.
I remember filling up a bucket with gravel and trying to drive my hands into it to toughen them.
I quickly switched to sand.

Then miracle of miracles, a Karate school opened near me.
FINALLY!
No more play fighting, I could do the real deal.
My parents went and talked to the teacher..Sensei, I quickly learned was the correct term.
But he was very laid back and allowed "Mister" as well.
My soon to be martial arts instructor was a black man, about 6 feet tall, slender and not very imposing looking.
That was until he got out on the floor of the Dojo.
Then his movements became graceful and fluid, talking stopped and it was all business.
My parents agreed and I was on cloud nine.

I got my Gi (karate uniform) from a local sports supply store and was taught how to tie my belt.
Yes there is a certain way to tie it I learned, not just a knot.
And I soon walked into my first karate class.
And I quickly began to separate the big screen from real life.

First push ups.
What?
Push ups?
This isn't gym class! This was karate!
But I quickly calmed down when I saw our teacher do his on his knuckles.
Now that was more like it, that I understood.
Then jumping jacks.
Then deep knee bends.
Then sit ups.
For the love of God...when were we gonna hit something?

Finally we lined up and I thought this was it.
Nope, now we learned stances.
I was pretty sure I knew how to stand, I had been doing it most of my life but okay.
Ready Stance.
Okay. I'm just standing.
Horse stance, "kiba-dachi".
Now, here we go.
It looked easy, but this was were we were to learn all of our punches from.
Low, lower your center of gravity, not too far, find the happy medium.
Then we took the stance, and just stood there.
He walked around carefully correcting us, getting us into the stance right.
Then my thighs began to burn...and tremble...and shake.
Not only mine thank God, I looked around (out of the corner of my eyes of course, turning your head was met with a loud "Eyes forward!") and others were shaking too.
And my instructor had on his face what could best be described as an impish grin.
Why?
He was waiting.
Sure enough ..in a moment I heard a "THUMP!" from behind me as one of my fellow students hit the floor.
Some snickered, some laughed..I kept my mouth shut.
Good thing too as each snicker and laugh was met by a steel hard glare from my instructor.
We quickly learned that in his dojo we were a family.
One's success was everyone's success and one's failure was everyone's failure.
A fallen student was helped up, dusted off and gently put back into the stance until we ALL got it.

Finnaly everyone was lined up, deep into their stances and looking good.
And it was time to go.
He told everyone to practice that stance every day till the next class. Hold it as long as possible.
Just that.

So I left my first class without throwing a kick or a punch.
But I had started to learn something much more important.