The Journey: Are we there yet?
The weekend before spring break, I took a journey with my team, the Michigan Taekwondo Club. We drove for over 12 hours from Ann Arbor, Michigan, to Princeton, New Jersey to compete at a Taekwondo tournament hosted by Princeton University.
This 3-day endeavor, to me, was a double journey. In the literal sense, we drove for 12 hours there, competed for an entire day, and drove 12 hours back. It took an entire weekend of time and we crossed at least 3 states to get from the Midwest to the East Coast. In a more metaphorical sense, this tournament was also a huge marker of personal growth for me, in terms of my journey through Taekwondo, starting as a beginner white belt and newbie to the club last fall, to where I’ve come to today, a high color belt (nope not a black belt… yet!) and an officer of the club, taking on essential responsibilities to help this entire trip run smoothly for all.
I remember my first tournament, a year and a half ago, being brand new to the club and sport. Since then, I've competed at several more tournaments, trained a ton more, advanced a few belts, and developed my skills as an athlete. I've also grown much more invested in the club and the community it brings. I've grown, in more ways than one. I've won matches, lost many of them. Gotten injuries, recovered from them. It's been a crazy ride, and so much about me has changed since I first started with the club. I'm excited to introduce this double journey.
Wearing Taekwondo
Last year, I didn’t order this relatively expensive warm-up jacket, because I wasn’t sure if I wanted to invest the cash in such club apparel. This year, I made the plunge, a literal and also a sense of emotional investment in the club, purchasing this apparel that marked me clearly as belonging to this team. It’s also super warm and high quality! And has my name on it too!
Day 1: Outbound
Ann Arbor, MI to Princeton, NJ
6.30am: I’m waiting to be picked up. We set out way ahead of the sun, in preparation for the long journey ahead. We need to reach the tournament venue at 8pm for registration and weigh-ins, which is where they check the weight of the sparring competitors to make sure they fit in the weight categories they are registered for.
We drive to 5 tournaments a year at various places along the east coast. The scenery changes each time, though we take similar routes. We pass through Ohio, Pennsylvania and New York. In October, the beginning of the competition season, we enjoy the bright fall colors of upstate New York, and if you make it to the November tournaments, you start to see the leaves fall and branches shake off their coatings. By February, the landforms that hug the freeway are dusted with snow and the trees are bare, the angular branches a black tattoo against a wintry, cloudy sky.
13 hours of driving is no joke. Other competitors in the league wonder how we do it – but in truth, the long drive is part of the experience. We bond on the long drive as we debate when to hit up rest stops, get gas, or get food. As the drives get longer, our brains get sillier, loosening up to make up for our stiffening limbs. We play silly road trip games and since we send at least 3 to 4 vans of competitors per tournament, there is often a low-key rivalry to see who gets there first. We open Snapchat Maps, a location sharing feature on Snapchat that allows us to play “real-life Mario-Kart” amongst the vans.
The experience can be a little surreal. Time passes fluidly, sometimes slow, sometimes fast. The entire day fades by like the trees and signs along the freeway. Sometimes you fall asleep in one state, and wake up a couple of hours later in a completely different place, rubbing your bleary eyes and gazing out the window, wondering “where are we….??”. I spend a lot of time thinking about how far I’ve come in miles, despite having never left the cocoon of the van except for rest stops
Staying Awake
“What music do you like?” “Play me something you like so I can learn about your taste and more about you while I drive”
If you stay awake with the driver, you tend to talk about interesting things that you wouldn’t otherwise, since you now are all stuck together for a good while. There’s something about sharing a windscreen for hours, and just rolling down a freeway through many states. I sat in the passenger seat for most of the drive and helped navigate our driver, and we chatted about our lives, goals and values, be it in or out of Taekwondo. A year ago, I was the shyest one in the van, the new member who didn’t know anyone and was afraid to be in the passenger seat. But now, my friends in the club know me as one of the more energetic, non-stop talking possibilities as a vanmate, but I do come with a great playlist!! (They call me Aux God) This gets me thinking more about how far I’ve come in the club as a member too. Where I was once a newbie who everyone kind of “babied”, I’m now a more “veteran” member who relishes taking care of the new intake of club athletes, integrating them into our club’s social practices and introducing them to the rules of the league we compete in.
The sun sets as we enter New Jersey. Traffic slows a little and my van is early, so we take our time. The sky is stained pink and vermillion, the clouds an indigo hue. I find myself staring not at the pink and orange or red spots, but the spaces between where the colors transition from one to another. Neither rose nor lilac nor a fiery scarlet, but a color that is simultaneously all of them yet none of them at the same time. A shade on its own ambiguous transformative journey between two well-knowns.
We eventually arrive at the Dillon Gymnasium at Princeton University around 8pm for weigh-ins.
Moment of Truth
Princeton is a large tournament, and this year they set up 8 competition rings. The organizers need help setting up the mats so all the competitors (from various schools in the league) crowd around the moving van, which bears large numbers of puzzle mats, eager to help out. The veteran members of Michigan Taekwondo direct our newer members to the truck, introducing them to the fact that helping without question is part of our culture and values as a team.
These mats are surprisingly frustrating to put together, because they don’t always fit right. But it’s a lot of fun to struggle together, and we patiently jump, flip and wave the mats until everything fits. It’s a long process, but a fun one where we get to whack the mats we will compete on, side by side with the people who will face us on these same mats tomorrow.
We then take off to grab dinner nearby. For many, the first stop is actually Kung Fu Tea for bubble tea. I will admit that I was the biggest advocate for that, Bubble Island in Ann Arbor is absolute drain water in taste compared to Kung Fu Tea. I really wanted quality bubble tea. We then went around and grabbed dinner. Some had ramen, some grabbed hoagies, and others had pizza.
The weigh-in process is the first huge landmark in our tournament journey. For many, this is the real arrival point. Weigh-ins mark official tournament registration, where you’re confirmed in the sparring brackets. For some, it’s a harrowing necessity to “make weight”, and those who are close to cut-offs often don’t eat or drink till after weigh-ins. Some people cut weight. The 13 hours can feel like even more for them. For many, post-weigh-ins is an intense relief of being able to drink as much water as you’d like and eat a good dinner.
A variety of team jackets, waiting
Why won't the pieces fit?!
After being fed and watered (or bubble-tea-ed), we return to the hotel and cosy up in one of the rooms for a team meeting. Officers and experienced club members go through important timelines, rules, events (forms in the morning, sparring in the afternoon), and other procedures like filming. As the club’s new equipment manager, I spend time nagging about where to get kicking paddles and protective socks and how to put them back so that we don’t lose equipment. It is weird in a way, because it was only a year ago that I was completely unsure of what to expect for my first tournament, and now I run an important part of the tournament briefing. The senior members emphasize the importance staying aware that several of us could be competing at any time, so it would be crucial to ensure everyone has supporters at all times. Our coaches give us a motivational speech to do our best. You’d think we’d head to bed at this point, after a long day of travelling and a day of competing ahead. But no!
Parking Lot Poomsae
A big group of us troop off to the parking lot to practice poomsae. It is probably at this point I should explain what we compete in. We compete in 2 events, poomsae, or forms, which is a performance of a routine of fundamental techniques specific to each belt. I kind of liken it to a set gymnastics floor routine, or a set etude for musicians, where each belt has a set form they must perform for a panel of judges. Every detail counts, since everyone is judged on the same form. We practice in the parking lot, dodging entering vehicles and giving each other feedback so that we can work on improving what we can so as to be ready for tomorrow.
I’m practicing Taegeuk Pal Jang, the 8th and highest color belt form.
“Hey Dennis, isn’t it kind of crazy? Just a year ago I was competing with Il Jang (the 1st form you learn as a white belt) and now I’m practicing Pal Jang (the 8th form and the most advanced one for color belts)”
It hits me, how much has happened in a year. I started knowing nothing, but with every belt test I took, with every belt I progressed through, from white, to yellow, to green, to blue and now to red, I learned more and built on whatever I had learnt previously. There is a tangible learning marker with the martial arts belt system. Obviously, there is still so much to learn, but that makes the position in I am now so exciting, because I have gone through so much, and am in a position to guide a lower belt, but still very much in a position to learn from many people much more experienced than I.
It’s 11pm, it’s raining, and we are doing crazy martial arts routines in a parking lot. We must look absolutely crazy, but we embrace it and do our best not to disturb other hotel guests.
We do go to bed eventually.
Day 2: Tournament day
Princeton, NJ
Rise and shine! It’s time for a (free!) yummy hotel breakfast! We fuel ourselves up for the day on eggs, toast, yogurt, cereal or fruit.
Our team takes up a lot of space wherever we go, and we have a pretty big presence. We’ve gotten a lot of “Go Blue!”s and “Michigan all the way here??”. We are really obvious, thanks to the university name emblazoned across the back of our team jackets.
It’s a cold, rainy day in Princeton. Most of us are sleepy but also generally a little reserved, slightly nervous with anticipation for the day of competition ahead. We hustle into the gym once we arrive.
We commandeer a corner of space in the competition venue and then run to the locker rooms to change into our uniforms. Unpictured: multiple belt-tying lessons. We then take over a competition mat, and our competing day begins.
"Joon-bi"
"Ready/At attention"
The dark intensity of the black belt marks experience, not dominance. A black belt commands respect, not fear, from lower belts.
We kick off the day with Poomsae, for both color belts and black belts. I remember that at my first tournament, I was so, so nervous, and set myself the goal: just remember all the moves and finish it! This time around however, I’ve worked really hard to improve my forms so as to be competitive. I’m still nervous though, and I don’t do as well as I had hoped. Well, the day goes on. On to sparring! One by one, our various competing teams (we send several, in different categories) are called to holding and sent to rings. WE scramble to make sure every competitor gets warmed up, has the necessary gear, and has a coach to be at their ring side. Oh, and someone to video!
Stretching is a key part of warming up so as not to pull any muscles. Besides warming up the body, stretching is a good time for athletes to mentally prepare for the busy day ahead.
"Shijak!"
"Begin!"
Alicia has spent the last two weeks working really hard on her poomsae. Here she performs Taeguk Yuk Jang (6th form) in the blue belt division.
"Fighting Stance! Joon-bi!"
Get ready to spar!
The black belt matches are intense shows of athleticism, technique and experience
But that doesn’t make the novice matches less exciting! We cheer hard for our newest team additions who are competing in their first ever sparring march at a tournament. Even if the techniques are less flashy, the grit and fighting spirit laid out on the mat are no less formidable.
"Kalyeo!"
"End!"
We get to closing ceremonies at the end of the day then head back to the hotel for a team dinner and team meeting. I will be frank. I personally only got to fight one match and lost pretty badly. I was feeling rather morose about my poor performance that day, a far cry from what I perceived to be my good performance when I was a white belt, especially since i have been training really hard this semester. It almost felt like a downward trajectory! It was tempting to mope, but I really didn't want to be a wet blanket, so just rode out the wave of sadness. As the self-pity and exhaustion seeped away, my teammates reminded and encouraged me not to give up, and my coach sat me down for a talk about what I could work on to keep getting better. Many people comforted and reassured me, and I was so grateful that a year on, this team continues to prove itself a true family.
We end the night with shout-outs, a session where we outwardly affirm each other for their contributions that day, be it excelling in sparring, or being super supportive as a teammate. One thing sticks in my brain:
“Shout out to all of us for supporting each other, no matter what happened.”
And it flicked a switch in my head. I wasn’t in this to win, or to be a taekwondo champion. I joined this club for fun and recreation, why was I placing so much emphasis on the loss? Why was I losing sight of the greater treasure on this weekend journey, the community I came to compete and bond with? Moreover, I wasn't on a downward trajectory. I was just competing in a division which commanded higher standards, which in itself is growth and progress. It was an important moment for me and I did cheer up tons after that, especially as the team hung out together that night, 20+ people crammed in one hotel room watching vines, only going to bed around 3am.
Day 3: Homebound
Princeton, NJ - Akron, OH - Ann Arbor, MI
Back on the road! We snack happily on the way home, unlike on the way there. We are bound for our traditional team victory meal place: Melt Grilled Cheese and Bar.
Michigan Taekwondo's Ohio Home
It’s a platter of 5lbs of fries, coleslaw and a triple decker grilled cheese sandwich with 13 kinds of cheese. The challenge? Finish it singlehandedly. The arrival of these platters cause quite a commotion. It requires 4 individual servers to bring the order over, and attracts odd stares from the small 3pm neither-lunch-nor-dinner crowd in the restaurant. It also has the entire team crowding around them to get a closer look at the monstrous enemy they’re up against, far more terrifying than any high level black belt one might have faced back in Princeton.
Watch Me Win
It’s a chain in Ohio famous for its grilled cheese sandwiches. We always go here, without fail. Its team tradition! This time, however, there is a twist. 4 members of the team have decided to take on the formidable Melt Challenge.
TKD vs. Food
We all take bets on who will win. Most of us bet on Batuhan, the biggest sized person with the biggest appetite. Our Master however, bets on the smallest female at the table.
The challenge begins. Everyone approaches with a different strategy. Roseanne attempts to clear the sandwich first, along with Batuhan. Patrick and Rishi start with the fries.
45 minutes later, Rishi calls it quits. “its honestly quite gross.” The team, intrigued throughout the entire challenge, now gather around his plate to pick at the food and satisfy our curious taste buds.
The challenge ends after an hour, no one finishes. However, Roseanne is the last one standing. I guess our Master was right after all, though volume wise, I think Batuhan’s plate had the most food finished, just that he quit earlier. One teammate, Emmanuel groans: “I feel sick from watching.” I feel the same way. I feel a very strong urge to drink a kale smoothie after watching all of that.
The Last Leg
We pay and pile out of the restaurant. The victims of the challenge climb to the back of their vans and all immediately drop into a deep food coma. We know better than to wake them and pray they don't get carsick.
And now we head home.