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| Moti Horenstein |
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| Rey Leal |
The older I get, the more self-aware I become, and I realize the importance of protecting myself from those who would do me harm on a spiritual, emotional and physical level. Being an abused child, my spirit had been crushed and my self-esteem demolished. In my early twenties I was just a shell of a man with no direction and someone who was really hurting.
I remember when I decided to get into martial arts as a way of dealing with all my pain and anger. It just so happened I joined one of the top Kenpo dojos in Southern California. The training was intense and brutal, and on top of it I worked heavy construction as a tile setter. I was built like a brick shithouse and I did learn how to fight. Most people who joined the studio didn't last more than two weeks; the training was simply too intense for most guys to handle, and Monday night conditioning classes went for three hours, often running in the soft sand for nearly five miles before going back to the studio and doing endless calisthenics, then working the heavy bags until you were on the verge of puking your guts out. It was common knowledge that eating before Monday night training was a huge mistake. We were a small, but incredibly dedicated group of guys who were fiercely devoted to the training.
My instructor, Rey Leal, was a very intense man and an international point sparring champion. He brutalized me more than anyone I had ever dealt with. I took it for almost ten years, not knowing the man was abusing me. He belittled me, picked on me, and often gave me black eyes or laid me flat on my back when we sparred. He was relentless in the way he singled me out and made my life miserable, until finally I told him I had enough of his shit and was quitting. He simply looked up at me and said, “You needed to be spanked, so I just gave you what you needed. Now you don’t need it anymore. Walk with your head high and be proud of who you are. When you are ready to come back, let me know.”
I never did go back. Just too many bad memories of all the abuse I took. His way of teaching was far too brutal, but I did learn a valuable lesson: Those who are hurting wear their pain on their sleeves and bring negative attention. Those who are strong in spirit are respected and have positive relationships. He could have taught me these values without playing so many head games and beating the living daylights out of me.
A few years after I quit he closed down his studio in Ocean Beach and retired from teaching, taking on only private students out of his home in Chula Vista. I have tried several times to get hold of him, but so far I have been unsuccessful.
Years later, when I was in my early forties, and the onset of my disease was just beginning, I got into Israeli Survival, probably the deadliest form of mixed martial arts I have ever seen. My instructor, Moti Horenstein, is an internationally-known professional fighter, and holds World Titles in five different styles of martial arts. He was also the Heavy Weight Champion of Israel for three years in a row before coming to America. It was quite common to see him come walking into the studio with black eyes, broken fingers or toes, and contusions all over his body. He lived to fight and loved any kind of challenge.
He developed Israeli Survival from all the years of practical training he had in the Israeli airborne Special Forces, many years teaching self-defense to several Israeli commando divisions, and all the years of experience he had as a professional fighter in bouts all over the world. It was based on Mas Oyama, a form of Japanese full-contact karate, Krav Maga, Muay Thai, and several other styles he incorporated in his self-defense techniques. A lot of it entailed fighting on the ground, which is where many fights end up. He constantly told us that the techniques he taught were tried and true in battle and all the professional fights he had over the years.
There were no flashy, impractical spinning jump kicks—just simple, effective self-defense techniques designed to disable your opponent quickly by any means necessary. His philosophy was to quickly move from a defensive posture into attack mode, striking vulnerable areas with whatever was available, while holding onto a “survival” state of mind.
He developed Israeli Survival from all the years of training he had as as Israeli Commando, teaching Israeli Special Forces self-defense, and as a professional fighter who has had bouts all over the world. It is based on Mas Oyama, a form of Japanese full-contact karate, Krav Maga, Muay Thai, and elements from several other styles he incorporated in his self-defense techniques. A lot of it entailed fighting on the ground, which is where many fights end up. He constantly told us that the techniques he taught were tried and true in battle and all the professional fights he had over the years. There were no flashy moves and bedazzling jump-spinning kicks with no practical purpose. It was all about extremely effective self-defense techniques, designed to go quickly from a defensive stance into attack mode and completely disable your opponent by any means necessary, and to always hold on to a "survival" state of mind.
Unlike my first instructor, he treated me with respect and kindness, and went easy on me when we sparred, pushing me just enough to allow me to learn without kicking the living shit out of me. Regardless, the training was brutal and painful. I stayed with it for six years until I herniated two discs in my lower back, thus ending my martial arts career for ten years.
After all those years of inactivity, I went to see a spinal injury specialist. He told me the discs were no longer the problem; the problem was the muscles around the injury that were constricted and weak. I started doing Hatha yoga, and now I do it everyday. The muscles in my lower back sometimes spasm, but I am usually not completely incapacitated. I just feel uncomfortable and the pain can be managed through lots of Advil, ice packs, and heat patches. I am back to training with my children at Moti Horenstein's Mixed Martial Arts; I train around my injuries. There are so many lessons I learned though all those years of training besides how to kill a man in two moves—the most important are respect for others, self-discipline, and letting go of my fear of others.
Love to all!
James M. Weil
I remember when I decided to get into martial arts as a way of dealing with all my pain and anger. It just so happened I joined one of the top Kenpo dojos in Southern California. The training was intense and brutal, and on top of it I worked heavy construction as a tile setter. I was built like a brick shithouse and I did learn how to fight. Most people who joined the studio didn't last more than two weeks; the training was simply too intense for most guys to handle, and Monday night conditioning classes went for three hours, often running in the soft sand for nearly five miles before going back to the studio and doing endless calisthenics, then working the heavy bags until you were on the verge of puking your guts out. It was common knowledge that eating before Monday night training was a huge mistake. We were a small, but incredibly dedicated group of guys who were fiercely devoted to the training.
My instructor, Rey Leal, was a very intense man and an international point sparring champion. He brutalized me more than anyone I had ever dealt with. I took it for almost ten years, not knowing the man was abusing me. He belittled me, picked on me, and often gave me black eyes or laid me flat on my back when we sparred. He was relentless in the way he singled me out and made my life miserable, until finally I told him I had enough of his shit and was quitting. He simply looked up at me and said, “You needed to be spanked, so I just gave you what you needed. Now you don’t need it anymore. Walk with your head high and be proud of who you are. When you are ready to come back, let me know.”
I never did go back. Just too many bad memories of all the abuse I took. His way of teaching was far too brutal, but I did learn a valuable lesson: Those who are hurting wear their pain on their sleeves and bring negative attention. Those who are strong in spirit are respected and have positive relationships. He could have taught me these values without playing so many head games and beating the living daylights out of me.
A few years after I quit he closed down his studio in Ocean Beach and retired from teaching, taking on only private students out of his home in Chula Vista. I have tried several times to get hold of him, but so far I have been unsuccessful.
Years later, when I was in my early forties, and the onset of my disease was just beginning, I got into Israeli Survival, probably the deadliest form of mixed martial arts I have ever seen. My instructor, Moti Horenstein, is an internationally-known professional fighter, and holds World Titles in five different styles of martial arts. He was also the Heavy Weight Champion of Israel for three years in a row before coming to America. It was quite common to see him come walking into the studio with black eyes, broken fingers or toes, and contusions all over his body. He lived to fight and loved any kind of challenge.
He developed Israeli Survival from all the years of practical training he had in the Israeli airborne Special Forces, many years teaching self-defense to several Israeli commando divisions, and all the years of experience he had as a professional fighter in bouts all over the world. It was based on Mas Oyama, a form of Japanese full-contact karate, Krav Maga, Muay Thai, and several other styles he incorporated in his self-defense techniques. A lot of it entailed fighting on the ground, which is where many fights end up. He constantly told us that the techniques he taught were tried and true in battle and all the professional fights he had over the years.
There were no flashy, impractical spinning jump kicks—just simple, effective self-defense techniques designed to disable your opponent quickly by any means necessary. His philosophy was to quickly move from a defensive posture into attack mode, striking vulnerable areas with whatever was available, while holding onto a “survival” state of mind.
He developed Israeli Survival from all the years of training he had as as Israeli Commando, teaching Israeli Special Forces self-defense, and as a professional fighter who has had bouts all over the world. It is based on Mas Oyama, a form of Japanese full-contact karate, Krav Maga, Muay Thai, and elements from several other styles he incorporated in his self-defense techniques. A lot of it entailed fighting on the ground, which is where many fights end up. He constantly told us that the techniques he taught were tried and true in battle and all the professional fights he had over the years. There were no flashy moves and bedazzling jump-spinning kicks with no practical purpose. It was all about extremely effective self-defense techniques, designed to go quickly from a defensive stance into attack mode and completely disable your opponent by any means necessary, and to always hold on to a "survival" state of mind.
Unlike my first instructor, he treated me with respect and kindness, and went easy on me when we sparred, pushing me just enough to allow me to learn without kicking the living shit out of me. Regardless, the training was brutal and painful. I stayed with it for six years until I herniated two discs in my lower back, thus ending my martial arts career for ten years.
After all those years of inactivity, I went to see a spinal injury specialist. He told me the discs were no longer the problem; the problem was the muscles around the injury that were constricted and weak. I started doing Hatha yoga, and now I do it everyday. The muscles in my lower back sometimes spasm, but I am usually not completely incapacitated. I just feel uncomfortable and the pain can be managed through lots of Advil, ice packs, and heat patches. I am back to training with my children at Moti Horenstein's Mixed Martial Arts; I train around my injuries. There are so many lessons I learned though all those years of training besides how to kill a man in two moves—the most important are respect for others, self-discipline, and letting go of my fear of others.
Love to all!
James M. Weil
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