Indomitable Pt:2 Staying down is a choice

I gave The Winner School eight years, and it was one of the most positive, life changing stretches of my life. Mr. J gave me something I didnt even realize I was missing in a mentor. He didnt just show me how to become a better Karate instructor, he introduced me to a culture of success through sticking to a process. This silly idea that through discipline and hard work good things happen.

I have always known martial arts can do great things for people, but this was something else. Mr. J and I built one of the most successful programs I have ever had the opportunity to run. We trained some of the highest quality individuals I have ever had the pleasure of working with. I was making strides in my personal life. I met the woman who would become my wife, and I was finally in a good enough place to start a family of my own. Talk about a change of fate.

I wasn't done.

The next chapter took my family to Dolores, Colorado a small mountain town very much like Park City or Heber before all the development. I struggled with odd jobs here and there, leaning on my ski industry experience to land a couple of them. But like any high performer, I was bored out of my mind. So guess what I did?

That's right. Another martial arts studio. Montezuma Martial Arts Academy was born in the gondola wash bay in Telluride on one grossly stormy day.

I still had no idea what I was doing, but I was teaching again. It was 2019. Some of you can already see where this is going.

The program grew so fast I was running out of space to teach. I had quit the gondola and picked up a pretty sweet gig with Osprey Packs that gave me the freedom to promote the program, you gotta love a routine job with no real responsibility. Before I knew it I was signing a year lease for eight hundred bucks a month. Pre-COVID was a different economy. The program was growing so fast that it felt like fate. It was time to approach the bank for a loan and commit to martial arts full time again.

Then it happened.

March 12th, 2020. That date will stick with me forever. In the confusion around COVID precautions, the county started cracking down on non-essential businesses, and we were forced to close our doors.

Being a bit older and wiser, I did everything I could to stay viable. Zoom classes, emails, you name it. I was doing it. When I was able to reopen in June at limited capacity, I was already sunk. I had 60 active students in March. By June I was down to 12. I didn't know how to apply for PPP loans or any of it.

And so I watched another studio slip into the bin of failed endeavors.

This one hit me harder than the rest. Once again, my trusty friend alcohol was there to make sure I was going to be okay. Fortunately I hadn't quit my job, and I cancelled the loan. But I was down in the dumps for a long while, and I was showing it by fully embracing self destruction.

I had decided to stay down.

The only thing that kept me remotely sane was that I had a family to be responsible for. As long as I was showing up for work and the bills were paid, my drinking was fine, right? By the grace of all the gods, my wife stayed with me, and I even started teaching some private lessons again. Real black belts never really stay down. We are indomitable.

Around that time, health care was taking its toll on my wife. COVID changed how employees were treated, and she was looking for something more. She wanted to open a gym.

This was one of the few times a risky venture gave me pause. I had been kicked so many times, and I was comfortable in my garage. The idea of trying again almost physically hurt. I was as scared of that idea as I have ever been in my life.

So of course I said, "let's do it."