When I recorded this week’s Living Strong Through Martial Arts, I was still waiting for these books to arrive. Well... they’re here. 😊 There’s something different about finally holding the physical book in my hands after all the writing, stories, memories, lessons, and life that went into it. Living Strong Through Martial Arts: A Lifetime Journey of Martial Virtue is no longer something I’m working toward. It’s here. The first shipment of books I have are already spoken for, I’ve ordered another shipment, and I also received the news that the book has been approved for global distribution. I’m taking a moment this morning to appreciate that. And at 10:00 AM Eastern today, this week’s Living Strong Through Martial Arts goes live. Interestingly, I recorded it before the books arrived. The conversation is about what happens when life changes the plan, staying present with the life that is actually happening, and continuing to move forward even when you don’t have all the answers. That feels especially appropriate this morning. Direction forward. Always Live Strong. 🥋📘

Living Strong family… it is done. It is 9:00 tonight, and I have been at this since 4:00 this morning. But this really didn’t begin at 4:00 this morning. It began a long time ago. Today was the final push. The book has been proofed. It has gone through my publisher. All the technical checks have been completed. The files have been approved. Living Strong Through Martial Arts: A Lifetime Journey of Martial Virtue is officially going to print. I ordered the first copy today. It will probably be another couple of weeks before the book begins appearing on Amazon and through the other distribution channels. But I can now order copies directly from the publisher, and that means we’re at the point where I can begin putting this book into people’s hands. And I wanted my Living Strong family to hear about it first. Many of you have watched pieces of this book come together. You’ve seen me writing early in the morning. You’ve heard me talk about the lessons, the stories, the people, the martial arts, the mistakes, the victories, getting older, and what all of it has taught me about living. At 65 years old, I can finally say: I wrote the book. I finished it. And it’s going to print. 🥋📖 I also want to make something very clear for those of you who are part of my Founding 100 and pre-ordered the special hardcover edition. You are still getting your full-size, autographed Special Edition hardcover when it is produced and published in January 2027. That edition is being created specifically for the Founding 100. It is not being replaced by this paperback. And I’m adding something for you. If you already purchased the Founding 100 Special Edition, you will also receive a copy of this new paperback edition as soon as I have the books available. You do not need to purchase the paperback. It’s included for you. Of course, if you’d like additional copies for family or friends, you’ll be able to order those separately. There are also still a few Founding 100 spots available.

At 65, after more than five decades in martial arts, I find myself without a Tang Soo Do school that I call home. So this morning at 7:30, I went to Laurel Acres Park, up to what I call “the mountain,” and trained. I worked my forms. I practiced. I reflected. And my focus for the morning was one of the Eight Key Concepts of Tang Soo Do Moo Duk Kwan: Yong Gi — Courage. Sometimes courage isn't about doing something extraordinary. Sometimes it's simply showing up when life changes and asking yourself: What do I do now? And then taking the next step. I recorded this morning's training and put together a video called Finding My Corner: Starting Again at 65. I'm sharing the full video with my Living Strong community because I have a feeling this isn't just one morning of training. This may be the beginning of the next part of the journey. I'd love for you to come along. 👉 Full video: https://youtu.be/rHd1YHRtxac Never too old, broken, bruised, or beat.

Yesterday I spent part of my day training no-gi Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu. I got in about four rounds of what we call randori, or live training. Everybody I trained with was younger than me. At 65 years old, I can pretty much count on that these days, which makes me laugh. Now, because most of you here in the Living Strong community are not martial artists, let me set the stage a little. Each round lasts six minutes. For those six minutes, two people are grappling and wrestling with each other while looking for opportunities to control the other person's body. We move through different positions, looking for ways to control an arm or a leg or apply a choke. If an arm lock or leg lock were taken too far, something could get injured. If a choke were held too long, someone could go unconscious. Obviously, we're not there to do either of those things. That's where something called the “tap” becomes important. If your partner catches you in a position where you know the technique is there, you physically tap them with your hand or your foot, whatever is available. If you can't do that, you say the word “tap.” It is a very simple form of communication that means: Stop. Release me. And you release. Immediately. So when you watch Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, it can look like two people rolling around trying to choke each other and bend each other's arms and legs in directions they probably shouldn't go. And, well, that's partly what we're doing. But underneath all of that is something much more interesting to me: awareness, communication, trust, control, and the responsibility to take care of the human being you're training with. One of my training partners yesterday was probably around 6'2", at least 200 pounds, and extremely strong. Before we started, I told him what I was working on. I wasn't interested in seeing who could overpower whom or how many times I could get him to tap. I wanted to flow and connect. I wanted to move from one position to another, pay attention to the transitions, and recognize opportunities for arm bars and chokes as they appeared. If I arrived at one of those positions, I wasn't concerned with finishing it. I wanted to recognize that I had gotten there and continue moving.