Limitless Monday – Early Life Lessons From Long-Forgotten Martial Art of Kateda

Limitless Monday – Early life lessons and the long forgotten Martial Art of Kateda

Last weekend I was on a mission to reduce the size of my wardrobe. As I began selecting clothes that were destined for the garbage, I noticed how protective I was of certain items which I was unlikely to wear again, such as a black t-shirt for example which was torn to shreds or my white Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu belt. The latter triggered a memory of a time long ago.

As a 15 year old with the whole world in front of me, I took up the martial art of Kateda. It was not widely practiced and can be best described as a cross between karate and the practices pioneered by Wim Hof. For those of you who have never heard of Wim Hof, he’s the guy they call the Iceman. He exposes his body to the extreme cold using various breathing techniques.

In a space of 3 years, I reached brown belt. I barely think about my Kateda practice these days. However, last Saturday afternoon it entered my head for the first time in a long while as I wondered what had ever happened to that precious brown belt I had worked so diligently for.

I was a 15 year old lacking any discipline when Kateda entered my life. I was focused on tennis at the time, but after being rejected from an elite tennis squad my interest in it had evaporated. I swapped tennis for Kateda, and began attending classes twice a week, traveling to the world HQ in London every Saturday, even going away on a weekend retreat which was appropriately named Grand Training.

This week I searched online to see if I could find any evidence that Kateda had lived beyond my unreliable memory. I shared the contents of a few revealing YouTube videos with my 17 year old son. “Kids kick bags these days,” was his response when he watched a video of a student being throttled with a brick across his bare stomach.

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You can watch the same video here.

There was also a video of an instructor taking multiple punches from four separate assailants. You can watch that one here.

These tests of resilience were small fry compared to the most extreme act I was subjected to. To earn my brown belt I had to survive having a rope tied around my neck as two instructors pulled either end. I witnessed a few students fall to the ground unconscious during this test of neck strength and utter craziness.

In case you think it’s April Fools Day here is a video of such an event. I have to admit that I was never hit over the head with a brick. You have to draw the line somewhere!

The highlight of any class for a new student was the opportunity to punch the instructor, as hard as you can.

The instructor would line up the students in front of him, then proceed to open his gi to reveal his naked muscled torso where he would invite each student in turn to punch him in the solar plexus. “Harder!” he would shout. You can watch this situation play out here.

The average class was a mixture of strength training, cardio, and techniques.

One of the most memorable strength training exercises for the legs was performed when the instructor told you to assume “fighting position”. The stance was similar to a squat but with a lead leg. Both legs were bent at 90 degrees while you were poised delicately on your toes. We would hold that position until our legs shook uncontrollably. As we squatted the instructor inspected us pushing each of us violently to test our balance. Sometimes he climbed onto our fatigued legs just as we thought we were done. After that it was bunny hops. Up and down the room we went. For the first few months of training I could barely walk for two or three days after class.

While the instructor drilled us I would look over at the higher belts who would be sitting crossed legged performing breathing exercises or pushups. That looked easy when I compared it to the beating we were taking. When I eventually made it to that hallowed area of the hall I would look back at the white belts and wish we could change places.

As we became more proficient and conditioned half the class would be devoted to what they called Central Power training. That would involve sitting crossed legged and breathing in slowly, then releasing the breath while tensing your entire body.

The instructor would often appear from nowhere and punch you in the stomach to maintain your focus. That progressed to standing in a fighting position and repeating the same breathing drills. Culminating in pushups on your knuckles and later 3 finger pushups while holding your breath. The instructor would often kick you in the stomach or stomp on your back to check on your balance.

I tried a 3 finger pushup the other day. These aren’t the normal three finger pushups you might expect where the fingers are straight. Here, the bottom knuckle on the forefinger and middle finger are bent at 90 degrees. I can’t even hold myself in that position now not alone knock out a quick 20 pushups!

While the self defense techniques were very basic, they were a solid grounding for the beginner to martial arts. Most people who attended class were either overweight or victims of bullying. After only a few months many of these students looked fitter, stronger, and more confident. Few had continued issues with bullying.

Having practiced many forms of martial arts over the years, I can confidently say that my 17 year old son who is proficient at boxing, kickboxing, and BJJ would have kicked my brown belt Kateda ass. I credit Kateda, however, for many aspects of my life besides fighting.

While my son could probably have kicked my ass (on a good day), my flexibility was incredible. Flexibility drills were beyond anything I have seen in a martial art or yoga class since! I could do the splits back then.

My stamina was also exceptional. When I retried for the elite tennis squad a year later, I out-sprinted and out-worked all my feeble competition. I was finally accepted into the squad, but by then my interest in tennis had disappeared.

Over the years I have tried different forms of breathing exercises. I recognize the power of controlled breathing. However in the years that followed Kateda, I have never found anything quite like it. Wim Hof advocates controlled breathing as a method of improving endurance. Kateda training went beyond Wim’s methods, many of which are recognized today as massively beneficial to our health and longevity.

I am grateful that I was exposed to Kateda all those years ago. It was the start of my martial arts journey. More importantly, it provided me with an early understanding of the importance of flexibility, something I have maintained ever since, although I can’t do the splits anymore. It is probably the inspiration behind my long standing yoga practice and well documented discipline.

I gave up Kateda because the Masters wanted me to start my own school. That was the only way to earn your black belt. They then informed me, as I began the search for a suitable venue, that every penny generated had to be sent back to HQ. I liked the idea of teaching, but the thought of handing over all the money I made with no financial reward was a step too far. It was time to try a new martial art. I chose kickboxing.

In my first kickboxing class I got my ass handed to me. That’s probably one of the reasons why I rarely think about Kateda these days. I also seldom talk about it as the story is too wild for it to sound believable.

So what’s today’s inspiration?

The question for you this Monday is, what’s going to be your Kateda? What’s your inspiration that will deliver valuable life lessons and shape your life?

Perhaps you have already found your own version of Kateda.

Be grateful for the gift and exploit it for all it’s worth.

Happy Monday!

Banner Image: Martial arts. Image Credit – Sam Moghadam

Harry Maximillian

Harry is an author, coach, entrepreneur, comedian and a convicted felon. Harry was sent to prison for a financial crime where he spent five long years. Prison allowed Harry to realize the error of his ways. He decided to use his time productively and mobilize his extraordinary determination, dedication, drive, motivation and desire to focus on writing and the art of self-improvement. Before Harry’s enforced vacation he was one of the most prolific deal makers in the City of London.