The Two-Warrior Family
by Lori Ann White Shaolin Instructor

I've seen it happen far too many times; one of my fellow students at the kung fu studio finds a new boyfriend or girlfriend or gets engaged, or--God forbid--gets married. And after a few weeks, maybe a month, the student disappears, never to be heard from again. Sometimes they actually do stop by, sheepish yet proud, and explain that there's just not enough time for both martial arts and a relationship. At such times I sigh and shake my head, appalled by the tragic waste.

Don't get me wrong. I know the joys of a good relationship--I've been vary lucky in that regard. I'm all for young love and conjugal bliss--I'm even getting married soon--and I know that relationships need time and nurturing. But when I first moved to the Bay Area with my honey I did not ask that he give up his martial arts--in fact, quite the opposite. One of the best things that's ever happened for our realtionship was when I started studying kung fu with him.

I had no idea what I was getting into at the time. I''d never taken any sort of martial art before, only vaguely remembered "Kung Fu," the series, had never seen a Hong Kong movie--not even Bruce Lee or Jackie Chan. I considered myself somewhat athletic, though I disliked team sports and hadn't been a jock in school. And for a while, after we moved in together, I let him head down to the studio Tuesday and Thursday nights, while I, on Mondays and Wednesdays, huffed through aerobics and weightlifting at a local fitness club.

The problem with aerobics and weightlifting was boredom, pure and simple. No matter how loud the music, no matter how cool the equipment, sooner or later the workout became simply a means to an end, no more, no less. The journey towards that end was bland and dull, mind candy munched while erasing the effects of too many calories.

meanwhile, what Gary was doing looked so interesting. Every move had a meaning, every effort was directed toward a higher goal. Developing strong arms wasn't just to show off his biceps; strong legs weren't just for looking good in shorts. Not only that, everything he learned and practiced had a history and philosophy stretching back over a thousand years, with a full and colorful completement of heros and villains, scholars and sages.

I decided to try it. Gary helped me get a head start by showing me the stances and several of the basic exercises for developing strength and coordination stressed at the studio. After that, he took me to the studio, signed me up, and tossed me in to the sink or swim.

I floundered at the beginning. I would muddle through my lessons, chest burning, sweat dripping into my eyes, legs and hand refusing to work together. I'd stop for a breather and watch him glide through sets, envy giving way to a new respect for this person I'd started to consider a little humdrum. But I stuck with it , and as I slowly gained Strength and stopped whining about how sore I was the mornings after classes, I like to think he was proud of me, too.

Now, we make a pretty good team. We nag each other into going to the studio in the evening when work has sucked up almost every drop of energy we possess. He'll show me why I finished the double daggers set facing the wrong direction, and I'll prompt him on the straight sword and spear, sets he learned so long ago he sometimes blanks on moves. He's been there to take me to the emergency room an embarrassing number of times, and I've pushed him to be more social with our kung fu brethren.

We've had our ups and downs since then, but our shared interest in the martial arts has become one of the strongest bonds between us. It's an activity both physical and mental that we can share, it's given us something in common when we seem to disagree on everything else, it's taken us to China together, it's given us many special friends.

So the next time the light of your life hints that you're spending too much time working out and not enough time working in the yard, drag him or her down to the studio to give it a try. You both might be pleasantly surprised. And if your particular style doesn't suit your sweetie--say, you like to power your way through the Tiger-Crane set with four rings on each arm and your significant other is a certified 98-pound weakling--investigate other styles. Perhaps something softer like Yaiji, would suit. The important thing is to get involved.

If you do convince your significant other to give your martial art a try, I recommend that you not be the one responsible for his or her tutelage--at least not at the start. For the beginner, there's added stress in trying to please one's partner, while for the experienced martial artists, there's the danger of familiarity breeding impatience. Gary took a hands-off approach during my early years, only helping when i specifically requested it, and that freed me to concentrate on my practice. Now, though I can't call myself his equal, I'm comfortable enough with my level that I don't feel self conscious around him.

Give it a try. Worst comes to worst, you're back where you started, but with a partner who might have a bit more insight into this crazy hobby of yours. And if it all works out well, then you have a partner who's willing to join you in your insanity, and share with you an important part of your lifetime journey. Who could ask for more?