Sometimes, my confidence is so high, I don't need a belt to hold my pants up. And then there are other times I am deer-in-the-headlights timid. This year, my swagger has been repeatedly interrupted by the need to dive into a foxhole. Being named a team lead on a Mission Impossible project that quickly turned into a Bataan Death March has accounted for much of the foxhole diving. At this stage of my career I would be delighted to have a a lot less visibility and for my corporate masters to be a bit less deadline-driven. But that's not how it's going to be right now, so I need to man up and work through this difficult time.

Manning up and working through hard times on the job are one thing. But I expect my leisure activities to offer some relief from the rat race, not to blossom into a whole other battle. I am a Judoka, a practitioner of the art of Judo.Though I got something of a late start, I've been flipping people for just under 15 years. For someone who's old and slow and muddled from years of self-abuse, I'm not all that bad at it, either. From the beginning, I have faced my fears and taken on men who are younger, larger, quicker, more talented and, for the most part, got an earlier start with their martial arts training than I. At my best, I've managed to throw most of them at one time or another. And now, most of them cannot put me on my back unless I dial my game down to a 10.

I am anything but at my best now, but I am, nevertheless, a senior student in Zdenek Matl's school. Zdenek was recently awarded his 9th Dan rank by the Kodokan, the Japanese institute of Judo. His Judo is European style, not traditional, and he eschews much of the pomp and ritual associated with the Kodokan. So, it is saying a lot that a group of Japanese Judokas practiced with him, listened to him lecture about his techniques, and later chose to confer on him this rank. As a Judo man, I may not be much to look at, but I am the beneficiary of years of training from a great practitioner and teacher of the art.

 So, what's the problem?

My problem is I am more than brains and muscles and someone who can twist your arm out of its socket. I am also an arm twister with a huge ego. And I am tired of being low man. Because no matter how many years I practice here, I am and will continue to be a senior student, but the junior instructor. Martial arts are more hierarchical than the Catholic church. And no matter how hard I work--and I'm not even saying I've been working all that hard--I will always be behind the senior instructors and other senior students who got an earlier start. And I am just tired to death of my place in the hierarchy.

Recently, we were practicing some subtle movement that I wasn't getting the hang of, and my teacher allowed one of the other instructors to assist. This other fellow is a brilliant Judoka, but he doesn't practice our style, particularly, and began making changes in the technique. I wasn't getting what he was doing, either, and I kept getting corrected, both for not getting what Sensei was teaching and also not getting what the other master was showing. I was unable to communicate to either of them that I felt they were showing two different techniques, and I was hearing way too much correction. I finally gave up trying to communicate, and walked off the mat. (This is considered a major breach of protocol in any dojo, and it is emblematic of my rejection of the heirarchy and my place in it.)

In a similar situation years ago, with another senior instructor who was being an intransigent asshole, when I walked off the mat I didn't walk back on for about two years. My Sensei, possibly remembering this lengthy absence, hastened to bring me back out on the mat and spent the remainder of the hour working with me, away from the other instructor who was causing my heartburn. At the end of practice, I listened respectfully to a lecture from the 2nd instructor, who was mostly annoyed with me for disrespecting him, although he didn't say it that way. I stayed mad for a couple of days, and then returned one night to apologize to my teacher,  but also to try to explain to him that I am not content with my role. I am not sure I effectively communicated my side, and I have avoided practice for the past couple of weeks, because I don't want to see the other instructor. He won't hear me, and I don't plan to listen to any more of his nonsense.

This is not unusual. When martial arts students get too big for their britches, they generally go somewhere else to get their butts kicked, or, if they are good enough, they go off and open their own school. (One of the other instructors has done exactly that, choosing to teach the Saturday class instead of continuing to labor in Sensei's evening classes.) I don't have the testosterone needed to get my teeth knocked out at some Karate school, and I have neither the chops nor the desire to open a Judo school. But I don't really have the energy to continue in this role. As in so many aspects of my life, I feel I cannot go forward, and I cannot go back.

How do I answer to this riddle?