This Officer Got LAUNCHED!
Another day... Another training opportunity! ...an extra sweaty one this morning!
Apparently, I wrote yet another blog that struck a nerve with you and others in our PeaceWalker Community.
I've been receiving thoughtful correspondence, stories, training perspectives and more from you folks!
I have to admit, I think it's really cool how divers of a crew we have! So far I've heard from some of out...
~ Marines
~ Firearm Instructors
~ Private Security Personnel
~ MMA Coaches
~ Traditional Kung Fu Teachers
~ Cops
~ Tae Kwon Do Instructors
~ New Krav Maga Students
~ Not so new Krav practitioners
Some really cool perspectives and stories. Just shows some of the awesomeness that is you and the others who are a part of this tribe of protectors we call PeaceWalkers!
Various backgrounds, different experiences, unique differences...
Same Path!
Here's one of the stories I think you'll enjoy (and can learn from!)...
This Officer Got LAUNCHED!!
I worked part-time for about 8 years as a Reserve officer for a county sheriff's department. To qualify we had to successfully pass an abbreviated academy which included the requisite classroom work, firearms training and qualification, and physical training.
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Well, during the last week of our training we were engaged in a final round of PT where we set up four students in a baseball diamond type formation, each equipped with a padded bag for protection. The entire class then in rotation rounded each baseline and when encountering each of the four base "defenders" had to attack with a series of punches, kicks, jabs, and shoves. As the exercise progressed the base defenders would rotate out to become an attacker, replaced by someone who had completed the course as an attacker.
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Mind you, probably at least half of the students were north of 40, but I was still senior by a good margin, being well into my 50s at the time. (I'm closing in on 68 now.) When my turn came to man a base, I was defending against a kicking attack. When I looked up to see the first guy rounding the corner in my direction, I remember my first thought as being something akin to, "Oh sh*t."
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You see, the guy coming at me was in his late 20s, at least 6'4", and about 230 pounds of moving tree trunk, a gung-ho ex-Marine. He was a really nice guy, but subtle wasn't in his vocabulary. Trying to think quickly, I figured to help at least somewhat counter what I suspected was coming, the best tactic to use would be to meet him with some momentum of my own. Plus I was praying that he was paying attention when our instructor reminded us all to "go easy" during this exercise so no one would get hurt, and that he actually knew what the phrase "go easy" meant.
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Before continuing with my story, you need to know that I'm not exactly a small guy myself - 6 feet, well north of 200 pounds (unfortunately I can't add the suffix "of muscle" to that description). Anyway, the next thing I knew was me being lifted completely off my feet at the end of his foot and flying backward to meet up with the cinderblock wall that was about six feet behind me.
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As the fog lifted I found myself sitting half slumped near the offending wall, blood pouring down my head and face and our instructor applying pressure to stem the flow (it took a trip to the hospital and about a dozen sutures and staples to fix the damage).
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I looked up to see my young friend in front of me with a stricken look on his face. I know I saw tears welling in his eyes as well. In retrospect, the stricken look and tears may have only signified him contemplating facing a charge of involuntary manslaughter. Who knows? LOL
Kidding aside, I knew he felt terrible about what had happened, and he was such a likable guy, I felt really bad for him. I wanted to try my best to offer him what I hoped an ex-Marine might interpret as being equivalent to, "Hey, it's okay buddy. No problem, I forgive you."
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So in that spirit, I looked him in the eye and said, "You kick like a f#cking pussy."
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Believe me, the sight of his jaw hitting the floor after hearing that was [almost] worth the price of admission!
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In subsequent years, that incident (hopefully without my name attached) became an object lesson of sorts, even amongst regular full-timers, of how NOT to participate in a PT exercise. So hopefully some good did come out of it and perhaps even kept someone else from getting hurt in the process.
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Anyway, I really have no point in sharing this with you other than I think it supports the jist of what you were trying to communicate with a real life example, although I'm sure you have thousands of even better ones that you could share from your own personal experience, as well as that of others. That, and lighten your day a little and give you a laugh over the conclusion of my little story in the process.
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Take care, and thanks for what you're doing!
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~J.D.
A Funny Note...
When I asked Jim If I could use his story he said, yes, on one condition that I leave in the swear words!
ME: Hahaha! (Thinking... There's a man after my own heart!)
Here are his exact words:
"I just ask that you leave the profanity in place if you don't mind, even if you have to "soften" it a bit with some ## or whatever. It adds to the color, don't you think?"
Well, Yeah Jim! Of course those'll stay in there! They DO add some color and keeps it what it is!
It's About Time!
No matter where you are on your journey...
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It's About Time!
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About time to train smarter. About time to gain more clarity and confidence when it comes to protecting yourself... and your family!
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About time to get on the wait list to my Private PeaceWalker Membership, so when it opens, you're ready to go!
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More stories to come...
Keep going,
~Craig
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