HUMBLE BEGINNINGS

When I made my grand entrance into this world in 1979, my older brother (and only sibling) Kevin started his martial arts journey. Kevin saw a talent show in which a kid performed karate, and he immediately told my mom and dad, "I want to do that." Always wanting to encourage us kids to follow our dreams, my parents signed Kevin up for those karate lessons. Because of that moment, many of my earliest memories revolve around karate. Of course my dad believed, like any parent of an eight-year-old would, that karate was just another childhood trend that would blow over in a month or so.

Boy, did that turn out to be a failed prediction! I don't blame Dad though. Who could have foreseen back then the profound impact the martial arts would have, not only on their oldest son but also on all of us? My parents had no idea of the life-changing effects that would follow the simple act of enrolling my brother in that class. In fact, they didn't make much out of it at all.

Naturally, as the younger brother, I looked up to Kevin. I thought everything he did was so cool. I, of course, wanted to be just like him. Ironically, however, my first athletic interest ended up being in gymnastics, not karate. As a kid who was on the smaller side and always very athletic, I loved watching gymnasts on TV, and I would mimic the gymnasts' moves, either out in the yard or right there in the living room. But I never took classes or got serious about it. Instead, inspired by my brother, at the age of seven, I finally decided to enroll in my first karate class at the Greer/Lyman School of Karate, where my brother had been attending since I was born.

I had already spent hours watching the classes from the sidelines. At that young age, I was a painfully shy kid, and I can still see myself sitting on the wall watching the classes my brother took. I would imagine being brave enough to walk up to the tape that marked off the practice area. But that was all in my imagination. My brother was really great. He would practice moves with me at home. That built my confidence up enough to think that maybe I could do it too. In fact, the only reason I ever started class was my brother's encouragement, which made me feel comfortable.

I can still remember the day of my very first karate class. The pungent smell of the dojo seemed more intense that day. Sweat and carpet just don't go together very well. I remember my first lesson with the zigzag patterned tape on the floor. Following this tape with your feet taught you to train your muscles to memorize the position called forward stance. It's the most elementary position, but it's where every white belt starts. We even sparred (person-to-person hitting) in my very first class. And even though it scared me, I loved it — in the way you love the thrill of a r