Pain, Chronic Illness and the Martial Arts

This post is my personal experience of being a martial artist with a chronic illness. I am not a doctor and nothing in this post should be taken as medical advice.

Let’s face it – sometimes martial arts hurt. Injuries happen, just like they do in any other sport. I once broke my left big toe during a belt test, though I didn’t realize it at the time it happened. I finished the test, including breaking a board with a left-foot front snap kick. In fact, I didn’t notice I’d really be hurt until the adrenaline from the test left me and walking became sheer agony.

But that’s not the kind of pain I’m referring to here. As a martial artist with Sjogren’s Syndrome, I’m intimately familiar with another kind of pain – the deep down, fatiguing pain that neither rest, sleep, nor time can relieve. The variable kind of pain where you feel fine one day, then bedridden and snapping your family’s heads off the next. Sometimes I get a couple of days warning of fatigue and inability to focus; other times, it comes on without warning – swiftly and silently. Sometimes exercise relieves it, sometimes it aggravates it, but most of the time it doesn’t affect my pain level at all.

This kind of pain caused me to stop training right after I earned my blue belt my first time through taekwondo. The pain and fatigue left me unable to train for almost thirteen years. Even performing a simple snap kick could put me flat on my back with pain the next day. During those years – some of the darkest of my life – I missed martial arts so much that even just walking by a school broke my heart. I kept trying to figure out something I could do, some form I could study within the confines of my diminished ability. Frequently during that time, I needed a cane to walk from my living room to my kitchen. I looked into t’ai chi and chi gong, but financial (it costs a lot to care for a chronic illness) and logistics kept me from following through. The pain and the medications I had to take to manage it meant I was unfit to drive, so I would’ve been dependent on others to get to and from class.

Yet, through it all, I never stopped thinking of myself as a martial artist.

In 2006, I left an emotionally abusive and controlling marriage. Almost immediately, my health began to improve. By May of 2008, my symptons had gone into remission and I returned to taekwondo with my son. I felt like a part of myself was returned me. During those long years, I’d known how much I’d missed the martial arts. What I didn’t realize until after I returned to the dojang, was how much being a martial artist was central to my core being. It’s not just something I do – it’s something I am. It’s part of what makes me, me. Last May, I nearly cried with joy the first time I put my uniform on again. It didn’t matter that the belt I tied around my waist was white, not blue.

I know the training could still hurt me. I know I’m taking a risk. But, for me, the risk is worth the benefit. For others, it may not be. I believe the decision to train with an chronic illness is highly individual, based on the severity of their pain levels, energy levels, etc. It’s a decision that needs to be made with the help of your doctor. I had to admit my choice to train in taekwondo didn’t thrill one of my rheumatologists. As a practitioner of aikido himself, he said “I’m a martial artist too, so I know telling you to stop won’t do any good. But did you have to pick the form that’s the hardest on your joints?” His advice was that when I reached the point where I still hurt two hours after a training session, it was time to switch to a “softer” form, like t’ai chi. If you can find a doctor who’s also a martial artist, I recommend choosing him/her. It’s well worth the effort. For one thing, you’ll probably never have to answer the “why” question: “Why in the world would you want to do that to your body!?”

These days, even the physical limitations I used to have wouldn’t necessarily have to keep me away from the dojang. Some schools — like White Tiger — have special, modified classes for people with disabilities. Which gives me comfort that if I ever do have trouble again, I won’t have to quit this time.

Tags: chronic illness, disability, Health, pain, Sjogren's Syndrome