9th Oregon Kyokushin Challenge : Opposition Tastes Like Pancakes
1 year prior-
I traveled to Portland Oregon to visit my Japanese friend, Yusuke, who was studying abroad there. While in Portland we entered the pancake eating challenge... and lost. I swore to the shop keep I would be back in one year to avenge myself...
20.X.
Almost 1 year later-
I saw a notification for the "9th annual Kyokushin Karate Challenge Tournament" by I.K.O. (International Karate Organization) Matsushima, in Portland Oregon. Just in time for me to avenge myself. This must have been fate. Or a challenge. I had 3 months to train for the tournament. Three months of intense training and sacrifice. I just happened to have had access to a university "Bod Pod", which is a test you can have where you strip down, get in a tube, and have your vital measurements taken. The tube registered me as exactly 5'9.3/4'', 180.3 lbs, and 9% body fat. My goal was to fight in the middle weight division at 178 lbs.
2 months later-
Yusuke had long since left Portland and I had no one to stay with, or to be my second. Then I talked to a buddy of mine, Danny, who was doing work in Seattle Washington, and he said he would come down to Portland and to be my second. Last problem solved. So I thought. The training was going well, and I was right on track. Then, something happened that stripped what little money I had away from me. I had no money, no ticket to Portland, and no time left to get either. This would be the first of many obstacles. However, there is always a little good with the bad, and vice versa. I suppose that would be the theme of this trip.
I was approached by another buddy of mine, Shawn, who just so happened to want to go to Portland with me, and would loan me the rest of the money for the plane ticket there. I usually travel by myself, but I certainly wasn't going to not go just for that reason. The change of pace will be good I thought...
The day to leave arrives-
The tournament was scheduled for a Saturday, so the plan was to arrive on a Thursday afternoon. This would give me enough time to relax and wander around before the tournament. Shawn lives in Indiana, so that's where we left from.
It was Thursday morning and I was feeling ok, a little hungry from trying to cut weight, but otherwise fine. We took off and flew to Chicago, where we had a lay-over and a plane change. We made our way to the new plane gate and to the counter. It was here that the attendant informed us that we would not be boarding the aircraft. I didn't understand. It was explained to me that the flight was over booked, meaning they had sold more tickets than there are actual seats, and everyone had shown up.
I was not happy.
The attendant said we might be able to squeeze on the flight a few hours later... though it had also been overbooked. The lady assured me that she could definitely be flown to Portland on Tuesday. Tuesday!? My return flight was leaving a day before that!
Shawn and I waited for the next flight. No luck. No luck and no flights to Portland, from ANYWHERE until Tuesday. Every flight to Portland from every destination was either sold out or priced in the quadruple digits. We decided that if we could just get a flight to NEAR Portland, then we could just go from there. The airline gave us both some money to compensate us for the situation, and my cut turned out to be just enough to pay off my debt for going on the trip. Easy come easy go.
We found a flight going to Seattle. That was good enough... except that it left Friday morning...from Indianapolis. Where we had just come from.
We went to go get a rental car. It didn't work out. The trains had stopped running and our only hope was an overnight double decker bus. We took a taxi there, and we took it. Shawn slept on the bus, but I did not. It was very uncomfortable, and hot. I believe the bus might have been rocket powered, but that the rocket had been installed backwards, blowing its super hot air onto me, while I burnt my thigh on some kind of inside radiator.
We arrived in Indianapolis, and after Shawn napped for an hour, we went back to the airport and flew to Arizona. I had not slept yet, and had been up all day Thursday, and now it was Friday...
After some waiting in Arizona we flew to Seattle. I was now officially tired and hungry. If you've ever seen me in that state, you probably know why I travel solo. I am not pleasant under those conditions. It was Friday night when we landed in Seattle. Shawn went for the rental car counter. Denied. I of course would be no help, because I don't own a credit card or anything like that. We couldn’t' make the train, and so our only hope was to take a greyhound bus to Portland. We took a taxi to the greyhound station. Once there, I met two really great drifters. One was a jeweler, and the other was just living life to the max. Both where really great people, and after some talking we got on the bus. and took off.
It was fairly late by the time we arrived in Portland... and we still had to get to the airport before midnight. This was so we could get our luggage that had been shipped there without us, when we originally left. We took another taxi to the airport, and made it minutes before they closed; but we made it. Now we needed to get to the hotel where Danny was.
Taxi!
We arrived at the hotel at about 2 am. Saturday morning. The day of the tournament. I was supposed to have arrived on Thursday. Danny and Shawn left to go hit the streets. I got ready for Bed. Sleep did not come. Danny and Shawn came in after 3 and went to sleep. I couldn't sleep knowing I had to get up at 6 to get ready. I just layed on the floor...
06:00 and after-
I got up and did my morning exercises and got ready for the tournament. This was now my third day with no sleep and almost no food. I was exhausted and couldn't think or act clearly. Danny and I arrived at the tournament to weigh in. I watched as others got on the scale with their cloths on. My name was called. "Nash." Yes? "We only have 'Nash' down as your name. Is that correct? Only one name?" Yes. "OK. Please get on the scale." Can I take my clothes off? " ... " They're not part of me, so they shouldn't count as part of my weight. " ... Yes ... that will be ok." I stripped down to my underwear and got on the scale. The two receptionists blushed and appeared shaken. "178 lbs."
I had made my target weight exactly, with no decimal points.
The tournament then commenced.
It was a middle size tournament, with representatives from all over the western United States. Though the scale was middle size, there was almost no seating for spectators, which I found unique. The tournament began with a speech from the organizations leader, Yoshikazu Matsushima, and then a demonstration of acceptable and unacceptable techniques. Then the children fought. They fought good fights, and had many good knockouts.
An announcement sounded. The men would be fighting soon.
I went to warm up.
My name was called.
My opponent and I entered the ring. The match began and I assaulted him with leg kicks. When I felt his focus had shifted to his legs, I faked a leg kick, and kicked him in the face. waza ari, half point. I did it again. Waza ari, half point. The match was mine by TKO. I felt good, but physically drained. I watched others fight until it was my turn again. There was one man, an I.O.G.K.F. (International Okinawan Goju ryu Karatedo Federation ) man, who had exquisite technique. Unfortunately, he was very overweight, and his stamina cut out. he lost.
My name was called again.
My opponent and I entered the ring.
I hit my opponent once. Twice. Three times... and he was still standing. I then became suddenly aware of the fact that I had been up for 3 days, and was hungry. My stamina and power had left me. We fought until the time expired and the judges ordered an extension.
We fought again. His techniques where beginning to connect, as my body no longer had the energy to have a proper defense. I ate many kicks to the face, but I never went down. Time up. By judges decision, my opponent was declared the winner.
I was unhappy with the way things had turned out. I lost, but wasn't beaten. I still haven't been knocked down, or knocked out. At the time though, I was lamenting my performance. Then a person came over and congratulated me on having spectacular technique. I told them thanks, but a loss is a loss. Then another person came, and another. I had people tell me that my technique was the best at the tournament. They would say that if my stamina had been better I would have one. I explained my situation. " Jesus! What are you even doing here!? Go rest! Man, if you just had a normal trip, you would have won for sure!" I was still inconsolable. Danny gave it a shot: " Look, that guy that got the decision over you was well rested and in his best condition. Think about it. That guy even in his best condition, still couldn’t really beat you at your worst."
Then a guy named Papken came over and introduced himself. He was from the Seattle Dojo that came down to fight. He said I was a good fighter, but I said the evidence pointed to the contrary. "You going to the sayonara party?" No. I don't have any money. "Well, if that's all that's stopping you, I'll get you in. Seriously man, you deserve to be there." Well, I'm actually with two other people.. "They can get in too."
And so it was that Danny, Shawn, and I got into the party for free. Shawn also grabbed me a T-shirt that someone had left at the tournament. At the sayonara party I mingled with a lot of nice people at the event and made some new friends. Papken and Paul, from the Seattle Dojo, and Toshiki Otani from a dojo in California.
I got invited to train at the Seattle dojo, and the California dojo. I can't pass up opportunities like those...
After the sayonara party, most of the group formed an after-after party where we gathered in someones hotel room for the night. It was here that Papken said Paul would probably be in Japan this summer. Maybe I'll see him there.
The time moved into the early morning, and Shawn, Danny and I went back to our hotel room. I got a few hours of sleep before I needed to get up again...
Sunday-
Sunday I headed to a seminar taught by Yoshikazu Matsushima, the head of their organization. It was an interesting seminar, and one of the practitioners in particular, a 50 something year old man, really impressed me. After the seminar, I parted ways with the people there, and they said they would surely see me at their Seattle dojo, then I regrouped with Danny and Shawn. It was time for pancakes.
Danny had decided he would enter the pancake challenge as well, and so we arrived at the pancake place, ready to do our best. Our pancakes came out and we began. The goal: eat 3 pancakes. After half of my first one I realized - all the small meals and lack of food to cut weight had shrunk my stomach. By the time I had finished my first one, I began to feel less than well. I fought on. I ate 2 1/4 pancakes before I bowed out. Defeated. I went outside for some air. I cheered Danny on through the window he was sitting against. He made it through 2 1/2 pancakes. Defeated. We left, the gravity of the events of the past few days crushing me.
With that thought in my mind, we returned to pack our things, and get ready to leave. My 5 day stay reduced to days of travel and less than 2 days where I planned to be. I had sacrificed for months only to see my efforts undone by the heavens in mere moments. Beaten by pancakes I had sworn revenge on, and losing at a tournament my friends had traveled across their country to see me at. I was used to opposition from the powers that be, but this was the first time that I hadn't been able to completely overcome those powers. I felt a tinge of weakness.
But only for a moment.
Then I started to realize. I had lost the tournament, sure, but I wasn't beaten. I was still standing trading blows right until the end. If I could move just my pinky finger, I still would have fought. If there where no rounds, the victor would have been me. I had also made it to the tournament despite everything in my path trying to stop me; and in so doing, made new friends and connections. Losing to the gods? No. We'll call it a tie; plus, I'm still standing, so I'm not through yet. I will be the ultimate victor, and it gives me a reason to enter the tournament again. As for pancakes? You and I have unfinished business...
Make no mistake. This was the worst trip of my life up to that point... but even my worst trip is better than how most people go through their lives. I'm thankful I get to experience these things. If you get a chance to face some obstacles, do it.
Yeah, victory is sweet, but pancakes aren't too bad either...
-Nash
I traveled to Portland Oregon to visit my Japanese friend, Yusuke, who was studying abroad there. While in Portland we entered the pancake eating challenge... and lost. I swore to the shop keep I would be back in one year to avenge myself...
20.X.
Almost 1 year later-
I saw a notification for the "9th annual Kyokushin Karate Challenge Tournament" by I.K.O. (International Karate Organization) Matsushima, in Portland Oregon. Just in time for me to avenge myself. This must have been fate. Or a challenge. I had 3 months to train for the tournament. Three months of intense training and sacrifice. I just happened to have had access to a university "Bod Pod", which is a test you can have where you strip down, get in a tube, and have your vital measurements taken. The tube registered me as exactly 5'9.3/4'', 180.3 lbs, and 9% body fat. My goal was to fight in the middle weight division at 178 lbs.
2 months later-
Yusuke had long since left Portland and I had no one to stay with, or to be my second. Then I talked to a buddy of mine, Danny, who was doing work in Seattle Washington, and he said he would come down to Portland and to be my second. Last problem solved. So I thought. The training was going well, and I was right on track. Then, something happened that stripped what little money I had away from me. I had no money, no ticket to Portland, and no time left to get either. This would be the first of many obstacles. However, there is always a little good with the bad, and vice versa. I suppose that would be the theme of this trip.
I was approached by another buddy of mine, Shawn, who just so happened to want to go to Portland with me, and would loan me the rest of the money for the plane ticket there. I usually travel by myself, but I certainly wasn't going to not go just for that reason. The change of pace will be good I thought...
The day to leave arrives-
The tournament was scheduled for a Saturday, so the plan was to arrive on a Thursday afternoon. This would give me enough time to relax and wander around before the tournament. Shawn lives in Indiana, so that's where we left from.
It was Thursday morning and I was feeling ok, a little hungry from trying to cut weight, but otherwise fine. We took off and flew to Chicago, where we had a lay-over and a plane change. We made our way to the new plane gate and to the counter. It was here that the attendant informed us that we would not be boarding the aircraft. I didn't understand. It was explained to me that the flight was over booked, meaning they had sold more tickets than there are actual seats, and everyone had shown up.
I was not happy.
The attendant said we might be able to squeeze on the flight a few hours later... though it had also been overbooked. The lady assured me that she could definitely be flown to Portland on Tuesday. Tuesday!? My return flight was leaving a day before that!
Shawn and I waited for the next flight. No luck. No luck and no flights to Portland, from ANYWHERE until Tuesday. Every flight to Portland from every destination was either sold out or priced in the quadruple digits. We decided that if we could just get a flight to NEAR Portland, then we could just go from there. The airline gave us both some money to compensate us for the situation, and my cut turned out to be just enough to pay off my debt for going on the trip. Easy come easy go.
We found a flight going to Seattle. That was good enough... except that it left Friday morning...from Indianapolis. Where we had just come from.
We went to go get a rental car. It didn't work out. The trains had stopped running and our only hope was an overnight double decker bus. We took a taxi there, and we took it. Shawn slept on the bus, but I did not. It was very uncomfortable, and hot. I believe the bus might have been rocket powered, but that the rocket had been installed backwards, blowing its super hot air onto me, while I burnt my thigh on some kind of inside radiator.
We arrived in Indianapolis, and after Shawn napped for an hour, we went back to the airport and flew to Arizona. I had not slept yet, and had been up all day Thursday, and now it was Friday...
After some waiting in Arizona we flew to Seattle. I was now officially tired and hungry. If you've ever seen me in that state, you probably know why I travel solo. I am not pleasant under those conditions. It was Friday night when we landed in Seattle. Shawn went for the rental car counter. Denied. I of course would be no help, because I don't own a credit card or anything like that. We couldn’t' make the train, and so our only hope was to take a greyhound bus to Portland. We took a taxi to the greyhound station. Once there, I met two really great drifters. One was a jeweler, and the other was just living life to the max. Both where really great people, and after some talking we got on the bus. and took off.
It was fairly late by the time we arrived in Portland... and we still had to get to the airport before midnight. This was so we could get our luggage that had been shipped there without us, when we originally left. We took another taxi to the airport, and made it minutes before they closed; but we made it. Now we needed to get to the hotel where Danny was.
Taxi!
We arrived at the hotel at about 2 am. Saturday morning. The day of the tournament. I was supposed to have arrived on Thursday. Danny and Shawn left to go hit the streets. I got ready for Bed. Sleep did not come. Danny and Shawn came in after 3 and went to sleep. I couldn't sleep knowing I had to get up at 6 to get ready. I just layed on the floor...
06:00 and after-
I got up and did my morning exercises and got ready for the tournament. This was now my third day with no sleep and almost no food. I was exhausted and couldn't think or act clearly. Danny and I arrived at the tournament to weigh in. I watched as others got on the scale with their cloths on. My name was called. "Nash." Yes? "We only have 'Nash' down as your name. Is that correct? Only one name?" Yes. "OK. Please get on the scale." Can I take my clothes off? " ... " They're not part of me, so they shouldn't count as part of my weight. " ... Yes ... that will be ok." I stripped down to my underwear and got on the scale. The two receptionists blushed and appeared shaken. "178 lbs."
I had made my target weight exactly, with no decimal points.
The tournament then commenced.
It was a middle size tournament, with representatives from all over the western United States. Though the scale was middle size, there was almost no seating for spectators, which I found unique. The tournament began with a speech from the organizations leader, Yoshikazu Matsushima, and then a demonstration of acceptable and unacceptable techniques. Then the children fought. They fought good fights, and had many good knockouts.
An announcement sounded. The men would be fighting soon.
I went to warm up.
My name was called.
My opponent and I entered the ring. The match began and I assaulted him with leg kicks. When I felt his focus had shifted to his legs, I faked a leg kick, and kicked him in the face. waza ari, half point. I did it again. Waza ari, half point. The match was mine by TKO. I felt good, but physically drained. I watched others fight until it was my turn again. There was one man, an I.O.G.K.F. (International Okinawan Goju ryu Karatedo Federation ) man, who had exquisite technique. Unfortunately, he was very overweight, and his stamina cut out. he lost.
My name was called again.
My opponent and I entered the ring.
I hit my opponent once. Twice. Three times... and he was still standing. I then became suddenly aware of the fact that I had been up for 3 days, and was hungry. My stamina and power had left me. We fought until the time expired and the judges ordered an extension.
We fought again. His techniques where beginning to connect, as my body no longer had the energy to have a proper defense. I ate many kicks to the face, but I never went down. Time up. By judges decision, my opponent was declared the winner.
I was unhappy with the way things had turned out. I lost, but wasn't beaten. I still haven't been knocked down, or knocked out. At the time though, I was lamenting my performance. Then a person came over and congratulated me on having spectacular technique. I told them thanks, but a loss is a loss. Then another person came, and another. I had people tell me that my technique was the best at the tournament. They would say that if my stamina had been better I would have one. I explained my situation. " Jesus! What are you even doing here!? Go rest! Man, if you just had a normal trip, you would have won for sure!" I was still inconsolable. Danny gave it a shot: " Look, that guy that got the decision over you was well rested and in his best condition. Think about it. That guy even in his best condition, still couldn’t really beat you at your worst."
Then a guy named Papken came over and introduced himself. He was from the Seattle Dojo that came down to fight. He said I was a good fighter, but I said the evidence pointed to the contrary. "You going to the sayonara party?" No. I don't have any money. "Well, if that's all that's stopping you, I'll get you in. Seriously man, you deserve to be there." Well, I'm actually with two other people.. "They can get in too."
And so it was that Danny, Shawn, and I got into the party for free. Shawn also grabbed me a T-shirt that someone had left at the tournament. At the sayonara party I mingled with a lot of nice people at the event and made some new friends. Papken and Paul, from the Seattle Dojo, and Toshiki Otani from a dojo in California.
I got invited to train at the Seattle dojo, and the California dojo. I can't pass up opportunities like those...
After the sayonara party, most of the group formed an after-after party where we gathered in someones hotel room for the night. It was here that Papken said Paul would probably be in Japan this summer. Maybe I'll see him there.
The time moved into the early morning, and Shawn, Danny and I went back to our hotel room. I got a few hours of sleep before I needed to get up again...
Sunday-
Sunday I headed to a seminar taught by Yoshikazu Matsushima, the head of their organization. It was an interesting seminar, and one of the practitioners in particular, a 50 something year old man, really impressed me. After the seminar, I parted ways with the people there, and they said they would surely see me at their Seattle dojo, then I regrouped with Danny and Shawn. It was time for pancakes.
Danny had decided he would enter the pancake challenge as well, and so we arrived at the pancake place, ready to do our best. Our pancakes came out and we began. The goal: eat 3 pancakes. After half of my first one I realized - all the small meals and lack of food to cut weight had shrunk my stomach. By the time I had finished my first one, I began to feel less than well. I fought on. I ate 2 1/4 pancakes before I bowed out. Defeated. I went outside for some air. I cheered Danny on through the window he was sitting against. He made it through 2 1/2 pancakes. Defeated. We left, the gravity of the events of the past few days crushing me.
With that thought in my mind, we returned to pack our things, and get ready to leave. My 5 day stay reduced to days of travel and less than 2 days where I planned to be. I had sacrificed for months only to see my efforts undone by the heavens in mere moments. Beaten by pancakes I had sworn revenge on, and losing at a tournament my friends had traveled across their country to see me at. I was used to opposition from the powers that be, but this was the first time that I hadn't been able to completely overcome those powers. I felt a tinge of weakness.
But only for a moment.
Then I started to realize. I had lost the tournament, sure, but I wasn't beaten. I was still standing trading blows right until the end. If I could move just my pinky finger, I still would have fought. If there where no rounds, the victor would have been me. I had also made it to the tournament despite everything in my path trying to stop me; and in so doing, made new friends and connections. Losing to the gods? No. We'll call it a tie; plus, I'm still standing, so I'm not through yet. I will be the ultimate victor, and it gives me a reason to enter the tournament again. As for pancakes? You and I have unfinished business...
Make no mistake. This was the worst trip of my life up to that point... but even my worst trip is better than how most people go through their lives. I'm thankful I get to experience these things. If you get a chance to face some obstacles, do it.
Yeah, victory is sweet, but pancakes aren't too bad either...
-Nash