A shock to your system

Or how to motivate yourself to do something really hard, like getting a karate black belt

A while ago I promised that I would write some words about my journey as a karateka. While not exactly work related, for me this is more of a LinkedIn story than a Facebook story, so here goes...

I’ve practiced traditional Okinawa Goju-Ryu karate for more than 12 years, on and off. After a longer break for various reasons, I started training again about 4 years ago, in “relaxed mode”. There are plenty of articles that will tell you all the wonders karate does for your physique, for mental health, for perseverance and whatnot. But when I faced the prospect of finally training for the black belt, what I learned was something entirely different.

I learned that it was really, really, really hard to motivate myself to do it.

6 months of sweat and commitment

Training for the black belt requires a high level of commitment and focus. There’s no skipping training sessions. It’s 3 times a week, every week, for 6-12 months, with additional training on the side. As the final 6 months sprint before my black belt graduation exam drew closer, my motivation was swinging back and forth.

I found myself wanting to go but not wanting to go at the same time. I found myself debating whether it would be OK to skip a session, just this once. Or whether actually once per week was enough. Or whether I could somehow make it less hard. Or whether I was good enough, and whether I’d ever get good enough. Sometimes I’d come home in fevers, I couldn’t sleep, my body would be aching several days after training. It was hard.

When you’re not used to things being hard

Let's be honest. I’m not used to things being really, really, really hard. I live and work in Denmark in an office job. I have work-from-home privileges. There’s food and coffee. I’m experienced in my work. And as the hardness of it all kept nagging me, I asked myself: Is this goal worth more than the hardness? How much do I really want this? I would sit at my desk, knowing that tonight was karate night, going over in my head again and again and again whether I could muster it this time, or whether I’d succumb to one excuse or another.

But at the bottom of it all, I just couldn’t understand how I could WANT something and at the same time NOT WANT IT.

What I learned about motivation

For most of my adult life I’ve frowned at external motivation. That’s not real motivation! That’s just behaviourism! Or peer pressure, or shame, or guilt. The only motivation worth having is TRUE internal motivation. What do I feel? What drives me as a person? What is ME and what is NOT ME? Yet, like everyone else I also act on outside triggers or rewards. I’ll do the dishes, then I can have a glass of wine. Now, dishwashing isn't and never will be internalised as something I find deeply fulfilling. But other activities could be. Those that also resonate with me as a person.

But the internal motivation I had for karate just didn't outweigh the hardness of it.

Then I spoke with a friend about it, and I said: “Sometimes I feel like giving my colleague Ole (who is a great motivator by the way) 10,000 kroner and ask him to not give them back to me unless I honor my karate training by going 3 times a week, every week, for 6 months”. THAT would make me train, regardless of how hard it was, because it would be harder to lose 10,000 kroner. It just didn’t feel like “real motivation”. It felt fake. Why jump through hoops to create a self-inflicted external regulation to do something that I actually wanted to do? My friend's answer: “Why not try it out?”

Jumpstarting your motivation

I didn’t give Ole 10,000 bucks (too bad, Ole!). But I did jumpstart my motivation. Failure to meet expectations is a strong drive with me. Without going deeper into that, let me simply say here that I make good on my promises to others. And so I did four things:

• On New Year’s Eve, I promised the party that I would get my black belt come June.
• In early January, I promised this to my team at work as well, and they asked me to post pictures from every training session, which I then agreed to.
• I told Stine, David, Johanne and Ulrikke (my family) that this was meaningful to me and that I wanted to prioritise this, knowing that it meant that THEY would also have to sacrifice time to support ME in my endeavour.
• And when the time came, I committed to my sensei that I would be there at every training and that I would specifically write if for some reason I couldn’t make it.

Or, in other words, I committed myself towards others. I often contemplated how I would be able to weasel out of these commitments, but at the end of the day, it would be so much hassle that it was just easier to get the training over with. I also agreed with myself that it was OK to go out the door and not feel like going.

I used knowledge of my own triggers to shock my system with external regulation, and then something great happened.

Internalisation

Early 2020 was tough. But it was also rewarding. I started to feel stronger. My body started aching less. I started eating healthier because push-ups are just so much harder when you’re 10-15 pounds overweight. I started enjoying my bike ride to work because it was also a way to train. I started to recite my katas to myself. I went full karate geek. Because I’ll be damned if I’ve committed to something and then don’t do it right.

Then something wondrous happened. After two months, it had all become routine. I didn't think anymore before going out the door, I just did it. It was still hard, but it was less hard, and the hardness had become a friend. The only external commitment I still cared about was my promise to get the black belt, but even that waned. It wasn’t about that. It was just about doing something I love.

In the matter of two months, the external regulation system I had implemented had led to a complete internalisation.

The moral and COVID epilogue

Now, please don't give away your life savings to motivate yourself to do something hard. This isn't a self-help guide, it's a personal anecdote. But maybe what's worth retaining is that to do hard things, you need to take a very honest look at yourself and accept what triggers you. Is it recognition or praise? Is it monetary rewards? Is it commitment towards others? Is it fear of failure? Is it connecting with others? Is it winning or competing?

And then, finally, I'll repeat an old truth: You can't do it alone.

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I graduated to 1. Dan in Goju-Ryu karate in late January of 2021 through an online graduation exam due to COVID-19 restrictions. I had set out to graduate in the summer of 2020, but total lockdown in Denmark made that impossible. I had to pick myself up again in August 2020, when restrictions lifted and we were allowed to train outdoors with minimal physical contact. Then, the rescheduled graduation exam, slated for end December, was cancelled 4 days before the date, due to renewed restrictions. And in mid-January we were informed that the graduation would go ahead as an online graduation at the end of January.

I'd be lying if I didn't say this was all tough on motivation, especially through Christmas and New Year's, where I had been eyeing the black belt for more than a year. I'd also be lying if I didn't say it felt weird to practice a contact sport with extremely limited contact for the better part of a year. But in the end, the graduation exam did feel like a graduation. And I did it. And I'm so proud.

What's next, then? Well, 2. Dan of course! And after that 3. Dan, which is when you get to be called Sensei, and wouldn't THAT be cool?

Oss!