Writing, Self-Efficacy, Training: An Update on my Life
The slim trees do their hula dance under a concrete sky, while droplets trickle down the trembling windowpanes. The dog snores from a dimly-lit corner as my thoughts wander and my coffee grows cold. Here in the warm blush of light in my room, velvety pink curtains and fairy lights create a cocoon from the harshness of the world outside.
It is a fine day for writing.
I returned from New York in December with four business cards of literary agents; and two months later, I have two rejections and the single burning question: is there room in the world for my dark little story?
Two business cards remain stashed in my wallet. One is from a man I thought only existed in the Hallmark movies he sells: the shrewd business man. He seeks stories of redemption, love and hope. Stories that make money. My story offers little of those things. I pitched my depressing, traumatic narrative to him, and I felt the ship list. As it took on water, I unhitched the lifeboat, pitching him my second novel: a frolicking Christmas story with a bittersweet ending. I’ll send it to him, when I actually write it. For now, it is a detailed outline in my notebook and a Netflix movie in my head.
The card of the fourth agent has his colleague’s email address scrawled across the back, as she handles women’s fiction. The agent was a kindly, British man, who read through my pitch and boiled it down to one simple idea. A brilliant idea! One I am excited about! An idea I’m not going to share just yet. However, this light-bulb moment means rewiring my entire story, which I am in the process of doing.
I’ve had a heavy, patchwork quilt since childhood. As the years passed, the fabric wore away, and underneath I discovered another layer of patchwork. The original layer is neatly stitched, with identical cloth squares and microscopic stitches. The fabric is faded and threads hang together like floss. But it was neatly done. The second layer is more haphazard. Wild patches of all sizes and shapes slapped together in a textile triage.
Re-writing my novel is like ripping each stitch of the quilt and fixing the layers together again. Right now, I have all the scraps in a pile. I sort through them, rearrange them to find the structure that will hold the thing together. I can only hope when it is finished, it won’t fall apart. I want my handiwork to provide some warmth to anyone who wraps themself up in it. My story, after all, is not a tragedy. The patches have worn away, been shredded in some places, but the reconstruction is ongoing. From the scraps, I can piece together something stronger and more pleasant to look at.
If you know me, you know I don’t have good reflexes. When under verbal assault, I tend to cover my ears and close my eyes. Later, like a kid who’s been pummeled at the playground, I think of all the things I should’ve said. My mind reels with it, going so far as to create a scenario where I spin around three times and suddenly appear in a leotard and bullet-proof bangles.
So, I had the idea if I could train my body to react quickly to situations, maybe my brain would follow. As a Crossfitter, I naturally looked for something a little gritty and bad-ass. Something not a lot of people have heard of: like Krav Maga. I was hooked from the trial lesson.
I was always the kid who spun the wrong way in ballet. The gangly middle-schooler whose wobbly discus beamed a teammate in the back of the head. To this day, I step on people’s feet when I hug them. However, if I shut off my brain and let my body do a single movement a hundred-thousand times, I eventually get it. I dodge the punch and go in with my elbow.
The beauty of Krav Maga is not that you simply react, but you train your mind to quickly asses the situation and then move. The result translates into my daily life, whether it is verbally defending myself or simply stating my restaurant preference. This decisiveness also takes practice, and it still takes me a while to get the hang of it.
Before I left for the writer’s conference in New York, I saw my Krav Maga studio was looking for trainers. The ad offered on-the-job training and a full-time contract. I decided, “What the hell!” I wrote up a google-translate-assisted cover letter in German and hit ‘send.’ That’s how, in a rickety hotel near Rockefeller Center, I had a Zoom interview with my coach in Leipzig.
Something unexpected happened as I started assisting with the kids’ classes. I enjoyed it! It is hard to describe how rewarding it is to show a scrawny, likely bullied kid flip over and pin down his opponent. The pride in his eyes when he realizes he doesn’t have to be ten-feet-tall to defend himself. I feel lucky to be part of this: a kid learning to be proud and resilient.
My favorite class is the cat-herd of 3–5 year-olds. Some of them have little focus and even less self-control. I love their fire and their spunk. I love knowing in a year from now, that energy will be directed into something useful, which will last the rest of their long lives.
More than the satisfaction that comes with training children, I’ve found these classes are healing my own inner child. She is right there with the wild ones, who squirm during mat talk. She sits alongside the ones too afraid to speak. This inner child of mine is learning how to react appropriately in situations where chaos reigns. As a trainer, I provide a safe space for them. For myself.
It is one thing to go to therapy once a week, but physical training, whether it is Krav Maga or Crossfit, is a daily practice of things I want in my life: strength, endurance, self-defense, healthy reactions. These physical activities are coaxing me out of “freeze” mode.
In a recent article on physical fitness and stress response, researchers explored the relationship between training and mental health. In this study, they explore self-efficacy, which is basically belief in your own capabilities. Their conclusion is to recommend “physical activities that promote proficient muscular and self-perceived fitness.”
Since the maintenance of health-related activity over time may also depend on self-efficacy expectations, enhanced self-efficacy and mastery experience should play a considerable role in sport-based interventions for preventive purposes.
Neumann, R.J., Ahrens, K.F., Kollmann, B. et al.
This is why I believe sports such as Crossfit and Krav Maga are key to good mental health. As you build and master skills, you take control over your response to difficult situations. These types of sports not only allow for greater self-efficacy, but the environment, with positive instructors and students, creates a safe space for the development of resilience.
You would think Krav Maga (with fists literally flying at you) would trigger a fight or flight response, but it doesn’t. Quite the opposite, the calm that comes with self-assurance renders flight or fight obsolete. Instead of an adrenaline-fueled panic response, your body learns to simply react with skill and swiftness. The responses are not grounded in fear but in security.
I have my slip-ups. There are times when I’d rather stay in my cocoon than brave the winds that rage outside. At those times I’m thankful for the people in my life who challenge me to face those storms and who encourage me to be the best version of myself possible. I am grateful to have physical activities that prove to my mind what my body can do.
Untamed fear will drag you through life, but it is possible to take the reins.
Whether readers find this message in my novel or kids feel it at Krav Maga, this is the theme of my story.
As I finish this post, the sky is a swirling gray marble of clouds. The fairy lights are dim in the afternoon light, and the dog still snores. My gym bag is packed, and I will step out into the blustering world, unafraid of what comes my way.
