My Genesis

By Alan Macdonald

I got to thinking after class the other night. I had made statements about part of the lesson dealing with ‘intent’. I had been struck by the variety of it whilst looking around the room during the routines we were performing. On the way home in the car I remembered coming home from a ‘garage’ session one night and feeling compelled to bash down on paper how I felt about training with Tony. I remembered the guys I trained with, some of them regulars at FFMA, and the sheer ferocity of training I had been thrust into right from the start; a raw beginner amongst international, Dan graded, Martial Artists. They had used ‘intent’ on me and I had damn-well had to reciprocate in kind or my a??e would have been theirs, not to put it too politely. When the police riot shield helmets came off the wall you knew ‘intent’ was just about all you had!!

Anyway, as a matter of interest, or perhaps a little sense of self-indulgent nostalgia, I have italicised the article below. I hope it portrays some sense of the naïve me, embarking on my newly discovered journey into the world of Martial Arts.

I wanted to rip the bag off the wall. I was trying to pulverise it with everything I had. If I could’ve got my teeth into it I’d have torn chunks out of it and loved the taste. I was conscious of a grunting behind me; it was me! My breath seared in my throat. I frantically gulped in oxygen but couldn’t get enough. Behind me I could hear Tony whipping us on in that inimitable style of his and for a second my efforts were renewed. I ground on, bang, bang, bang, elbows, knees, fists, feet and head, anger mounting within me, in tandem with fading energy and growing ineffectuality, both feeding on each other, one receding, one accruing, but the wrong way round. At last I heard the magic word "time" and with blessed release the pain stopped and the fight to recover before the next round began.

This was my Martial Arts partner Tony Terranova’s garage. His dojo. His pain room. And this was where my martial arts journey began.

How to describe the appeal of training the Terranova way?

Well, think of how you feel when you’ve pushed yourself farther than you thought you could; or when you’ve spent some time with good friends or even when you just feel spiritually relaxed and calm. Adrenalin, confidence, pleasant aches and shared pain, triumph and satisfaction. These I would say are just some of the emotions felt after a session with T.T.

When we enter TT’s training zone, in the company I have to say, of a grand bunch of lads, none of whom are aggressive or egotistical in the least, a fact which contributes to a very relaxed, fun session where we are immediately open to learning. A wide range of abilities benefit from the complete beginner to sagacious Karate trained Dans. There truly is something there for everyone.

Tony’s training room i.e his garage has all the latest martial arts equipment but creates a feeling of reality, adding to the ethos of the training. Tony himself has developed his training techniques to a fine art, cajoling gently or firmly as the need arises, never allowing his ego to get in the way and taking part in every session; another relaxant factor, as you feel "safe" (is that the correct word?) with him. All of this occurs within the confines of a graduated session, paying special attention to certain techniques where required or moving on to more complicated sequences should the pupil be a quick achiever.

Throughout the session Tony will give constant encouragement, explaining patiently and clarifying each move with a passion that ensures your interest throughout the sometimes two and a half hour class. Each class is wholly different from the previous one, but not so different that you cannot apply hitherto learned techniques from earlier sessions. Very astutely we are being led up the ladder to self-protection success. When the session concludes Tony is always willing to continue discussing and analysing the different moves and crucially how we felt doing each technique. This passionate, caring attitude is yet another reason I’m sure that sets Tony apart from the rest. I find myself impatiently waiting for my next fix in Tony’s Garage.

Back then, in January 2005, I was looking for something. I don’t know what it was. I had been looking all my life. I was consumed by an inner anger. I had been an elite soldier, parachutist, sniper; I had raced motorcycles, marathon ran and been a good squash player. But the anger or frustration always took over in the end and I would not stick with my lot. I was never happy and would move on after a few years. The closest thing to true happiness for me was running as fast as I could for as long as I could. For me this was taking my mind to its rawest state; it’s just you against you, no frills, equipment, aids or peripheral baggage. How do you beat yourself? You know yourself, your strengths, your weaknesses don’t you? How do you win that inner fight, which is a struggle that lasts a lifetime. You don’t.

Anyway I digress. Back to Mr Angry. There I was wrong side of forty and still hadn’t found what I was looking for. I was invited to that first session at Tony’s place and after a two-hour blast, I was hooked. It combined everything - that inner competition I’ve always loved - the release of pent up energy and stress - a bloody good workout and a kind of spiritual infusion I had not experienced before.

My technique was brutal, Neanderthal in the beginning. I had thought I could fight but I was a sick manatee in a shoal of barracudas and it showed. My bones couldn’t cope with both the uneducated power and the dreadful angle of punches and for a long time I had to put on two pairs of wrist wraps. It became a regular warm up routine to train bare hands using them to strike and as pads. We trained right up the scale of glove size too, from fingerless, to bag glove, to 10oz, to 16, as to stick to one type of glove permanently is to condemn your hands to a lifetime of rigidity. Pad holding itself, I found, was an art. In each routine we performed, the pad man was the conductor of the orchestra; he’s the man in control and he dictates whether the striker has a good workout or not. There could be no luxurious glances round the room during the routines or wondering what was for tea when you got home. Total concentration - no less, was essential or your block was coming off or, at best, a wrenched shoulder. We trained with different pads too from focus to Thai right down to bone pads with bare hands (and skinned knuckles). The bone pads were exactly as it says on the tin; pads with no padding - you punched a bit of fabric-covered wood. I used to pad hold for Tony and watch as his punches landed and flaps of skin would slowly peel back and go a nice burgundy shade with each punch. I always found that you seemed to have more chance of hurting yourself if you hung back on the power and didn’t commit than if you really went for it. Back to ‘intent’ again. Have the confidence to go for it...otherwise it goes for you!

Tony took us up and down the full scale of training, from full on sparring with 10oz gloves, to light sparring with fingerless and from the most miniscule technical point to a whole raft of moves seamlessly executed and worthy of a part in the Peter Consterdine ‘alphabetic word play’! It was an education - it still is an education - not just from what we are learning, but from the true and formidable characters we are meeting, both as experts already in Martial Arts, but also as gritty and determined beginners, who find within themselves a spirit and a philosophy they perhaps never knew they had. What a journey.... what an experience. Thanks Tony!

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