War breaths strong in our blood.
As humans we have been fighting since before we were born, fighting to survive, fighting to be the best. We have only gotten to where we are because of how well we can fight.
When I was thirteen years old my father and I started going to a mixed martial arts class. It was an adults class, with predominately male attendees. They were a rough bunch. Brawlers that had grown up street fighting. Unlike something fancy like Karate, this was a mixed martial arts class. So our instructors combined all their favourite, most lethal moves from boxing, kickboxing, muay thai, krav maga, jiu jitsu and wrestling.
This was the, ‘take them to the ground and take them out with as little effort as possible’ class.
And it was awesome!
My father and I went for about a year, before life got in the way and we stopped attending.
Last Wednesday, I came back after a long time. This time with my partner instead of my father.
I had forgotten deeply I need to fight.
The discipline, the focus, the flow. It’s all there. The ache in your back the day after. The ability to tackle your day to day life with the confidence that if shit hit the fan you could probably up one hell of a fight going down.
We need it. We need the taste of blood in the back of our mouths and the sweat soaked into our hair. It is in our nature to survive the best way we know how.
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