Being Better than You

Friday evening I stood in fight stance, puffing a little harder than I probably should have had to. With my very white belt dangling from my gi, I stepped to my left foot and attempted to execute a lead leg side kick to the heavy bag. My sensei, a guy probably half my age, corrected me again to deliver the kick straight, not slicing.“There should be NO horizontal movement.” he reminded me. I set up again. This time with all mental effort focused on getting my knee up first and then kicking straight out, I lost my balance and didn’t even get the kick off. My sigh of frustration was automatic, but I set up again and again sliced across my body. Sensei Frank is a saint. As an educator there is nothing more frustrating than repeatedly going over something with a student and still having the student fail. Frank never bats an eye- always quick with praise and kind with critique. It makes him a good teacher. Lucky thing for me.

I’m a beginner both mentally and physically. I’ve played college basketball and bar league ice hockey. I have always been a competitor and my own worst critic. But life and circumstances have slowed me down over the last decade, and karate is something totally different. There’s nobody to guard, no opponent to best (yet), and no goal to score on. The fight right now is with MYSELF. Can I punch correctly? Can I maintain my balance? Can I memorize my kata? Can I eventually deliver a kick higher than my waist? Honestly, if you ever want to feel personal inadequacy, start taking karate as you approach fifty years of age. My flexibility is gone. I’m out of shape. I’m a seven foot, old bald guy often in a room full of 8 to12 year olds, most of whom could, given equal size and muscle, kick my ass. Yet I go to the dojo every session with a smile and a simple desire to be better- not than anyone else, but better than I was last time. Because that’s really the only thing I have any control over- my own personal development. I may never be able to move like any of the senseis at my school. I can only try to be a better Me.

When we begin careers in EMS, we know little. We’re white belts. We get it wrong often and training is cumbersome and forced. Our minds are all over the place and we aren’t able to quickly find the best tools to use in various situations. We lose our balance. We miss the bag. Failure is humbling, and it is easy to become discouraged - to compare ourselves to other more experienced guys and girls with many years more time on the road than we have. We look to them and perhaps get blinded by the thought that we’ll never be as good. We’ll never have the same skill, confidence, and reputation... the way that I think that I’ll never be as good as my karate instructors. But this type of thinking yields only self-doubt. It offers no hope and sets no path for success. If you do this you should stop it immediately.

Among my current martial arts goals is being able to execute a reasonably effective side kick - a thing that I can’t do well at all. When I can, I’ll be better than I was - not better than Frank, but better than past me. It might take six months, but I’ll get it. Likewise when I was a new EMT I was just trying to routinely obtain a good set of vitals and not crash the truck. But pretty soon I was doing that. Then I learned better patient assessments. I developed better interview techniques. I learned how to start IVs and intubate and do 12-lead ECGs. Each time I mastered an element, I sought something new to learn. 26 years in and I’m still learning- but I am way better than I used to be. I’m an instructor now. I help new providers master the side kick of recognizing CHF or a STEMI. Every little victory over myself brought me closer to my OWN best, not to a position above someone else on a different personal quest.

Here’s the take-home: regardless of where you are in your EMS journey, you still have plenty to learn. More important than comparing yourself is CHALLENGING yourself. Identify your areas of weakness and, rather than hide them, embrace them. Go to a “sensei” and practice. Screw it up again and again, but keep training because eventually you’re going to have it down. You’ll begin to notice a sense of accomplishment. Your patients will be better off for your effort and drive to improve. And if you keep finding those steps and climbing, one day you’ll see that your white belt is black and people are coming to YOU to learn. You’ll be like Sensei Frank; except he’ll still be able to take you.

Me getting my white belt-accepting the personal challenge and my status as a complete beginner.