Reflections on the Road to Shodan
By Ahmed Abdallah
In the immediate post-COVID (mid-COVID? Are we still mid-COVID?) era, I had grown a bit more sedentary than usual. Working in software (and being an avid gamer), I was already spending large swaths of time sitting at a computer, but now I no longer had a commute to and from an office to at least attempt to balance out my lifestyle. As lockdowns lifted, I figured it would be good to get into some sort of activity for the sake of my slowly atrophying physical fitness.
That said, going to the gym has never been appealing to my sloth brain, so I started my search for something to keep me active that was a little more engaging. I considered trying a martial art, and after some googling, class visits, and a handful of trial classes, found what seemed like an amazing intersection of physical activity and my particular brand of nerd (like Jerome, I also love a good samurai anime) — and so I enrolled at Zentokan when I was 41.
Martial arts, of course, are not a pastime exclusively for the young, and I think my age is really only notable in that it signifies just how much time I’d spent sitting at a desk letting my body fall into disuse. At the beginning of (and throughout) my practice, I’ve had to focus on some very foundational body mechanics I had long let lapse - chief among which were building core and joint strength, developing a baseline of flexibility, and maybe most importantly developing an internal awareness of my body's movements. There are of course no shortcuts to making these things happen; physical conditioning requires patience and perseverance, while body awareness must be honed through mindful, intentional movement with an understanding of how a seemingly external movement is caused by internal motion.
These hurdles are ultimately the impetus of why I sought out a martial art, knowing my own reluctance to overcome them without real motivation. I consider myself incredibly lucky that I found an intersection of physical activity and my personal interests that pushes me to better myself both physically and mentally. Thus far it’s been a humbling and rewarding journey, reminding me that progress is always possible, no matter when you start.
With this in mind, it’s interesting to watch other students in the dojo — many of whom are in objectively better shape, whether due to age or prior training — progress up to and through stages I used to (and in some cases continue to) struggle with. It sheds a lot of light on how much internal practice and effort (as well as unlearning some basic things about how we tend to use our bodies in a modern society) translates into progression in this art. It’s also an interesting way to mark progress being in the “middle” of the dojo, with a clear gradient of practitioners from those much further along in their study to those just starting out.
To that end, the interesting thing about the curriculum at Zentokan is that I think if it were only kata I might have bounced off of it with time. While it certainly feels cool to wield a sword, I’ve personally never been much of a book study, and may have thought of kata as more of a memorization exercise than anything else. That all changes when you add the other pillars in - suddenly it’s not theory but application, with very immediate feedback in some cases. In Spirit of the Sword, Nakamura-sensei writes:
“… regardless of how great the theory a swordsman expounds or however perfectly he understands the logic of it on an intellectual level, the results of that technique will never be known until he tests it with tameshigiri.”
Which is easy to read and understand on a surface level, but becomes immediately obvious the first time you thunk a blade into a mat. Suddenly the importance of the seemingly minute details of things like one’s grip, footwork, and stance become a little clearer. With this feedback loop, I’ve since found nuances in kata that I might have skipped over at an earlier stage in my training, bringing the curriculum full circle.
Of course this whole perspective may go out the window, as this is merely a snapshot in time as I approach my shodan test. The road ahead of course remains satisfyingly long and training, I imagine, is never actually complete. That said, I think it can be invaluable to have regular markers for one’s development. One of the challenges with attempting to push yourself regularly is that practice always feels a little hard, and when that happens it becomes easy to lose sight of progress made without clear milestones. We’ll see how this next one goes, and while it’ll feel great to pass it when that time comes, it will of course only be a milestone to pass on my way to the next.
Ahmed passed his shodan grading on February 25, 2025.
