A fireside story

I was planning on writing this in 12 months’ time, but what’s a year between friends?

Pull up a log, grab some marshmallows, make yourself comfortable.

This article is going to have a lot of sentences and paragraphs beginning with “I”. I can’t think of a better way to write this, so please understand that I’m sharing here, not boasting.

If you want the TL;DR version, it’s simple – Marty has trained a long time in martial arts and has a few stories that he’d like to share. Be a good camper though and do me the favour of reading this, maybe you’ll get a laugh or something herein will help you in some way.

In September of this year, I’ll click over into my 40th year of martial arts study. Forty years is a long time. This photo is me getting splatted in my 3rd or 4th year of training. I turn fifty in a couple of months, and I wanted to share some of the things I’ve done and some interesting parts of the journey. This is not necessarily in chronographic order, and is mostly written as things come to mind.

I spent the first 10 years of my training trying to find the martial art that fit me the best. In December 1993, I received my first Black Belt in classical Japanese Jujutsu. At the same time, I transitioned to the art I’ve studied ever since.

Back then, in my early 20’s, I spent several nights per week training and had just started teaching. We moved back to my home town of Tauranga in 1995 where I opened my first public class. I’ve been teaching (what works out to be) an average of 3 nights per week for the last 26 years.

Over the years, I’ve had the pleasure of studying and training with some of the world’s best. Most of these people are quiet achievers – their names aren’t in lights, but their knowledge and experience far exceeds that of the so-called “big names”. There’s something in that, and it applies in all parts of life. My experience has been such that many of the "masters" I've met really haven't mastered much at all. There's a lot to be said for being a quiet professional.

I’ve taught at seminars in New Zealand and the US with attendee numbers exceeding 100 people, and yet, I still get horribly nervous when I speak on a webinar about my professional field of expertise.

On my travels, I’ve trained with serving and retired members of several branches of the military. I’ve had the pleasure of training with guys who served in Special Forces. I’ve both trained with, and taught, Law Enforcement officers from the US and NZ. I once provided personal training to a New Zealand Police Close Protection Officer who worked with Bill Clinton when he was in New Zealand for the APAC meetings in the late 1990’s – this gent credited my simple lessons as what got him through the hardest moments of his specialist training. When other officers were getting seriously injured from the intensity of the training, he was able to incur only minor injuries, I’ve always felt proud of that.

For a number of years, I kept a close friendship with a retired US Air Force pilot who spent his career flying nuclear-armed bombers up and down the borders with Russia during the cold war and dropped some of the first bombs of the first Gulf War. This guy went on to serve in covert counter-narcotics missions in South America. From him, I learned the fine arts of hand-making traditional Okinawan weaponry. I hand made dozens of wooden weapons for students both in New Zealand and the US. Unfortunately, my friend lost his battle with mental health and from what I can tell, died in a US federal prison after it all became too much. Mental Health problems are a terrible thing, I’ve had my share and although it took its toll on my physique, my experiences are nothing compared with those of others. The time I spent with this man led to some of the best bedtime stories I have ever heard. I’ll never know how true or accurate they were, but I suspect that the old adage of “Never let the truth get in the way of a good yarn” applied to some extent.

One of the nicest men I had the pleasure of meeting and training with, albeit very briefly in 2007, had served in the US Army Special Forces during Vietnam. He went on to serve for many years as a New York subway cop and again, had some incredible bedtime stories. He also made the best spaghetti and meatballs I’ve ever tasted. He taught arrest techniques to FBI officers. I learned the basics of tactical handcuffing from him – not that I’ve ever used it, but I have demonstrated his methods to members of the New Zealand Police which they found interesting and effective. He’s retired now, both from his working career, and from martial arts. He trained with the founder of the art I teach and his knowledge and experience were excellent. Through him, I made some truly honest and inspiring friends in the US.

I love working with high performing military people – their ethics, focus, drive, commitment and so many other things inspire me. Due to some physical limitations, I was never able to pass the medical and serve. Plenty of people have told me I’d have made an excellent soldier. Maybe you have heard of the “Rocking Chair Test”? One of my biggest regrets in life is that I will sit on my rocking chair never knowing if I could have passed selection in the NZ Special Air Service.

 Might sound silly, but I think about that often, probably far too often.

In 2000, my instructor retired from teaching our art and I needed to find someone else to learn from. I decided I needed to train under the founder of our art. I tried for four years to make contact with a man who didn’t use the internet. Many unanswered phone calls were made to the United States, and many letters went un-replied. What I didn’t know was that this man would no longer accept outside students, hence I never got a reply. Our founder passed away in 2012, and despite every effort, I never met him.

In 2004, I managed to connect with a chap who spent around twenty years training with our founder. 7 days a week, several hours a day while balancing his career and trying to have a good family life. This is what led me to the US to train. I’ve made five trips to the US representing New Zealand for martial arts, and until COVID, had hosted people from the US for fourteen straight years. While hosting these guests, we travelled New Zealand to teach those who were interested in our art.

Between 2004 and 2016, I built and led an organisation which, at its peak, had around 300 members. We had about 8 active schools and I’ve probably had a direct influence on the development of over 200 black belt students both here and abroad. I represented New Zealand at an international level, sat on boards overseeing the development and direction of our international organisation and many other activities. My goal for this group was to build something that provided benefit to people and families and helped them build strong successful lives through martial arts. The photo here was when my two eldest kids received their Junior Black Belts.

In 2016, I experienced the effects of a leadership coup and was pushed aside from the group I founded. After the efforts and resources my family and I had invested, being ousted caused a lot of stress in my life which I have had to learn to manage. The key lesson I learned was that I needed to be more careful with the people I brought into my leadership team. When people have copious amounts of ambition, and that is not balanced with copious amounts of ethics, it doesn’t take too much for them to decide that everything you’ve invested in them is all for nought when they want the crown. I share this in the hope that others may learn from my mistakes.

I’ve had the pleasure of working with kids of all ages. Some of my students have started as young as five years and I’ve watched them grow and be successful in their lives. Most of them no longer train, but when I see them, they all have fond memories.

I’ve worked with patients suffering from horrible illnesses, some recovered and some were on the final legs of their journeys. They are some of the strongest people I’ve known.

Some of the most interesting experiences I’ve had have been when I’ve told these stories as part of job applications. I’ve lost count of the number of times people have told me that “martial arts is just a sport, and this experience doesn’t count as management or leadership”. I’d question that, and in hindsight, every one of those organisations would have been terrible fits for my skills and capabilities.   

I can’t train like I used to anymore. One of my instructors, when I was about 14, was a big believer in hard physical training, and I lapped up every word of it. We trained several times a week. Martial arts in the 1980’s did not have the understanding of scientific training methods and people were lost in a fantasy that the old ways were best. I spent hours partnered with Sensei Oak Tree (a literal oak tree), hammered my limbs in pursuit of “conditioning”. Unsurprisingly to my older self, I now have trouble with my knees, hands, knuckles, back etc… Sensei Oak Tree was always presented with an offering of fresh teenage blood during a training session. I’ve updated my training methods now. I look for ways to teach that improve efficiency, decrease learning time and have the lowest long-term impact on the physical body. There are two lessons here; the first being that the old ways are seldom the best in modern times. The second lesson is when you get the chance to shape a younger mind, be very careful what you teach them – you can literally make or break their future.

My classes are small these days. While other arts regularly see forty or fifty students each night, I have eight to ten on good nights. The art I teach isn’t popular, it isn’t surrounded by “big lights” and when people look in our door, they often choose the more common names and go with what they are led to believe is best. The lesson here I guess (and in my opinion) is that most of the world chooses to drive a Toyota Corolla while some of us choose to experience a McLaren. I’m lucky that the people who choose to study with me turn out to be some of the best people I’ve ever met.

This is getting long and I could go on, but I’ll stop here and say that at nearly 50, I might be a bit chubby, I might be unfit, but my journey isn’t over and nor is yours. I hope something in here has brought you some benefit. If you’d like to know more, just ask me. I like telling my tales, but I don’t always share as I think people might not find it interesting.

No matter what life throws at you, keep walking your path. I’m hesitant to finish on a cliché, but it really is about the journey and not the destination.