There’s something about judo that keeps pulling me back—again and again. It’s not the medals, not the muscle, but the mystery. Beneath the throws and pins lies a quiet depth, a discipline that shapes not only your body but your mindset. In this two-part reflection, I explore why judo continues to fascinate me—from the elegant simplicity of its techniques to the profound values it quietly instills in everyone who steps onto the tatami.
Judo, often translated as “the gentle way,” has a unique way of gripping people—not just physically, but mentally, emotionally, and even philosophically. I’ve practiced judo for a number of years, but the deeper I go, the more I realize that fascination with judo doesn’t begin and end on the tatami. It stretches far beyond.
To understand why judo continues to hold me—and many others—in its spell, I’ve gathered thoughts not only from my own experience but from fellow practitioners, lifelong fans, and those who admire it from afar. Together, their voices create a mosaic that, I believe, captures the essence of judo’s enduring appeal.
What It Feels Like to Practice Judo
1. “It teaches me how to lose—and not just in matches.”
“I remember my first few months on the mat. I lost constantly. But something shifted when my sensei said, ‘In judo, falling is part of moving forward.’ That line stayed with me—on the mat and in life.” — Lukas, 26, university student, green belt
Lukas’s story is far from rare. For many beginners, the biggest hurdle is psychological: the humility to fall and get back up. In judo, you learn ukemi—falling techniques—before you learn to throw. That’s not just a precaution; it’s a philosophy. You don’t succeed in judo unless you know how to fall correctly, gracefully, and with awareness.
Commentary: In many sports, “losing” is something you avoid at all costs. In judo, it’s built into the structure. Even in randori (free sparring), losing is instructional. You tap out, bow, and try again. It’s not shameful—it’s expected.
Fact Check: Dr. Jigoro Kano, the founder of judo, emphasized seiryoku zenyo (maximum efficiency) and jita kyoei (mutual welfare and benefit). Losing to learn is a direct application of those principles.
2. “Even after years, I still feel like a beginner.”
“Every time I think I understand kuzushi (balance breaking), someone shows me a subtle detail that I completely missed. It’s humbling. And also addictive.” — Anna, 34, intermediate judoka, brown belt
This sentiment echoes across dojos worldwide. Judo looks simple from the outside—two people in white uniforms gripping and throwing each other—but every movement is layered with principle, leverage, timing, and sensation. The complexity is subtle. You’re not learning to overpower someone; you’re learning to use their force, their motion, their intention.
Author’s Reflection: I still remember the first time a black belt used tai-otoshi on me. I felt like I had walked into a wall and then was suddenly weightless. There’s nothing violent about it, yet it is profoundly effective. It’s those moments that bring me back. Again and again.
For Those Who Watch, Not Fight
1. “I can’t do judo—but I can’t stop watching it.”
“I have a bad knee, so martial arts are out of the question for me. But watching judo matches? That’s a different story. I’ve never seen anything so elegant and so explosive at the same time.” — Miriam, 41, judo fan and former ballet dancer
Miriam draws a parallel between judo and ballet—a comparison more apt than it may first appear. Both require precision, body control, and an acute awareness of timing and space. Olympic judo, in particular, can resemble a dance of strategy and energy. But even non-competitive practice has its aesthetics. The symmetry of uchikomi drills, the silent respect in the bowing rituals, the explosive fluidity of a clean ippon—all carry a visual power.
Fact Check: At the 2020 Tokyo Olympics, judo was one of the most-watched combat sports worldwide, especially in countries like France, Japan, and Brazil. Judo isn’t just a sport—it’s a performance with deep cultural roots.
2. “It reminds me of chess—if chess could knock you down.”
“I’m obsessed with judo highlight reels. The way two athletes stalk each other, trying to bait a reaction, reminds me of chess. Except here, one bad move and you’re airborne.” — Khalid, 30, eSports commentator
The strategic depth of judo is often overlooked. But to those who take time to study it, it becomes clear: judo is not about brute strength. It’s about controlling tempo, posture, and reaction. The grip-fighting phase alone can take years to master, and each technique can be used as bait, feint, or trap.
Author’s Take: I love this metaphor. Like chess, judo is a game of positions, gambits, and sacrifices. But unlike chess, your body is the board and the pieces. Every shift in weight, every flinch, every breath—it matters.
The Invisible Lessons
1. “Judo changed how I walk through life.”
“Before judo, I was impatient. I rushed things. In judo, when I tried to muscle my way through, it backfired. Now I pause. I let situations unfold. It’s not about being passive—it’s about not forcing.” — Mateo, 28, former rugby player
There is something transformative in judo’s core philosophy. It’s not just about self-defense or competition. It’s a way to understand conflict—any kind of conflict—not as something to dominate but to redirect. In the dojo, this means not resisting a stronger opponent but using their strength to your advantage. In life, it might mean navigating workplace drama, arguments, or stress with poise and calm.
Fact Check: Studies in Japan have shown that regular judo practice improves not just physical health but also emotional regulation, especially in adolescents and young adults. It’s been integrated into school programs in multiple countries for this reason.
judo
2. “Respect is not optional. It’s built-in.”
“I’ve done boxing and BJJ, both great sports. But judo feels different because of the culture. Bowing, cleaning the mat, the silence—there’s a weight to it. It demands a kind of reverence.” — Niko, 23, cross-training martial artist
Rituals in judo aren’t decoration; they’re discipline. You bow to your opponent, to the mat, to your sensei. You bow to begin and to end. These rituals remind you: this is not just sport—it is a tradition. It’s one of the few places where hierarchy, etiquette, and courtesy aren’t optional. They’re part of the fabric.
Author’s Comment: That sense of built-in respect is something I’ve come to cherish. In a world where ego often dominates, judo strips it down. You win with grace, and you lose with grace. The dojo becomes a place where character is shaped through practice as much as through philosophy.
The Craft Behind the Art: Why the Details in Judo Never Stop Giving
In the first part of this series, we explored the emotional, philosophical, and observational aspects that make judo so captivating—for both practitioners and spectators. Now, we dive into the techniques, the tactile intelligence, and the nuanced depth that make judo an art form hidden inside a sport.
For those who haven’t yet set foot on the tatami, this might be the point where fascination turns into obsession. Judo’s technical world is vast, layered, and infinitely rewarding. From the strategic manipulation of grips to the subtlety of body angles, judo is a game where millimeters and milliseconds decide everything.
Every Technique is a Puzzle
1. “It’s not just about throws—it’s how and when you use them.”
“People think judo is about brute force throws, but to me, it’s more like unlocking a safe. You try combinations, adjust pressure, and then—click!—you feel it open.” — Aaron, 39, martial arts enthusiast and judo hobbyist
Aaron’s description may sound poetic, but he’s onto something. Judo techniques, especially the throws (nage-waza), are not isolated actions. They’re context-dependent. The same seoi-nage (shoulder throw) will feel and function differently based on grip, stance, the opponent’s posture, and even how sweaty the gi is.
Author’s Note: One of the first things you learn is that it’s not the technique that wins—it’s when you use it. Timing beats strength. Kazushi (unbalancing) beats aggression. The smallest adjustment in footwork or hip placement can determine success or failure.
Fact Check: There are officially 68 throws in the Kodokan syllabus, divided into different categories (hand techniques, hip techniques, foot techniques, sacrifice throws, etc.). Mastery of even a single throw can take years.
2. “You don’t do judo to collect moves. You do it to refine them.”
“I’ve practiced o-soto-gari for 30 years, and I still find new things in it. The more you practice, the more you realize you weren’t really doing it before—you were just imitating it.” — Sensei Miyake, 6th dan, judo master from Osaka
Miyake’s insight highlights a truth that many beginners struggle with. Early on, judo feels like a checklist: learn the basic techniques, memorize the steps, pass your grading. But true judo doesn’t begin until you revisit those same techniques with a new body, a new mind, and a different perspective.
A master isn’t someone who knows more—it’s someone who understands deeper.
Fact Check: In Japan, dan rankings (black belt levels) aren’t just about competition wins. A 6th dan like Miyake-sensei is expected to demonstrate not just technical excellence, but also deep understanding of kata (form), teaching skill, and embodiment of judo values.
The Hidden Strategies Within the Grip
1. “Kumi-kata is psychological warfare in cloth.”
“Watch two elite judoka fight for grips. That’s not just positioning—it’s intimidation, deception, control. It’s like watching two fencers duel, but slower and heavier.” — Lina, 32, multi-style martial arts blogger
Grip fighting—or kumi-kata—is often the first battle before a single throw is attempted. For experienced practitioners, the grips are the setup, the attack, and the defense all at once. Where you grip, how tightly, and how quickly you break your opponent’s grip can set the tone for the entire match.
Author’s Commentary: As someone who has been outgripped many times, I’ve learned to respect this element immensely. A strong grip isn’t just about physical strength—it’s about angles, timing, and knowing your opponent. It’s the handshake before the storm.
Fact Check: At high-level competition, judoka often spend up to 70% of match time in grip exchanges. The International Judo Federation (IJF) even penalizes passivity during kumi-kata to encourage engagement.
Groundwork: The Underrated Half of Judo
1. “Newaza is where patience becomes your superpower.”
“Everyone comes in wanting to do flashy throws, but the smart ones fall in love with the mat. Newaza is where the quiet killers live.” — Coach Rina, Brazilian jiu-jitsu black belt and judo brown belt
Newaza, or ground techniques, is an essential yet underappreciated part of judo. Pins (osaekomi), joint locks (kansetsu-waza), and chokes (shime-waza) can win matches just as effectively as a powerful throw. But unlike the explosive nature of standing techniques, groundwork rewards strategic pressure, subtle movement, and control over time.
Author’s Observation: I used to hate groundwork—until I lost to someone smaller than me who never gave me space to breathe. Since then, I’ve learned that newaza isn’t about size or speed. It’s about the ability to make small spaces feel suffocating.
Fact Check: While BJJ focuses almost exclusively on groundwork, judo practitioners are allowed only 20-30 seconds to work on the ground in competition before being stood back up—unless they’re actively progressing toward a submission or pin.
judo groundwork
Kata: The Wisdom in Repetition
1. “People see kata as boring. I see it as judo’s soul.”
“When I practice Nage-no-Kata, it’s like reading a classic book. There’s something timeless in it. You understand not just technique, but intention.” — Sebastien, 45, French judoka and kata competitor
Kata in judo is often misunderstood. It’s not just a sequence of choreographed moves—it’s a method for transmitting the why behind each technique. The study of kata develops precision, awareness, and the kind of timing you can’t get in sparring.
Author’s Note: Kata taught me to slow down. In a world of instant gratification, it forced me to be patient. It reminded me that judo isn’t about quick wins—it’s about cultivating lasting skill.
Fact Check: There are officially seven Kodokan kata, each focusing on different aspects of judo—from throwing and groundwork to self-defense and moral philosophy. Mastery of kata is essential for dan-level promotion beyond shodan (1st dan).
Why Judo’s Complexity Keeps Pulling Me Back
Judo, unlike many sports, doesn’t become easier as you progress. It becomes deeper. What seemed like a simple movement as a white belt becomes a lifetime study as a black belt. Where others see repetition, judoka see refinement. Where others see simplicity, judoka find layers of complexity.
There is a quiet richness in its form, a rhythm that feels both ancient and modern. And for those of us who remain drawn to it, the appeal is not just in the competition or the sweat, but in the constant invitation to do better—not just on the mat, but in ourselves.
Final Summary and Core Facts
Judo keeps fascinating not just because of what it teaches, but how it teaches. Through movement, resistance, and precision, judo cultivates an internal dialogue—one that refines body, mind, and spirit.
Key Takeaways:
Techniques in judo are not standalone tricks—they’re contextual puzzles.
Mastery isn’t about learning more but about understanding deeper.
Grip fighting (kumi-kata) is strategic, psychological, and technical all at once.
Groundwork (newaza) demands patience, precision, and pressure.
Kata embodies the philosophy, timing, and elegance of judo beyond the competition floor.
Factual Highlights:
Judo has 68 official throws, and 7 canonical kata.
Dan promotions rely heavily on teaching ability, kata mastery, and community leadership—not just competition wins.
Kumi-kata strategy occupies a large portion of match time and is central to elite-level play.
Newaza in judo must be efficient due to time limits, demanding quick and decisive control.
Kata remains a core pillar of high-level judo education and tradition.
“In judo, the real opponent is not the person in front of you. It’s the one inside you.”
Opinion: Why Judo Keeps Fascinating Me
Table of Contents
The Quiet Power of the Gentle Way
Judo, often translated as “the gentle way,” has a unique way of gripping people—not just physically, but mentally, emotionally, and even philosophically. I’ve practiced judo for a number of years, but the deeper I go, the more I realize that fascination with judo doesn’t begin and end on the tatami. It stretches far beyond.
To understand why judo continues to hold me—and many others—in its spell, I’ve gathered thoughts not only from my own experience but from fellow practitioners, lifelong fans, and those who admire it from afar. Together, their voices create a mosaic that, I believe, captures the essence of judo’s enduring appeal.
What It Feels Like to Practice Judo
1. “It teaches me how to lose—and not just in matches.”
Lukas’s story is far from rare. For many beginners, the biggest hurdle is psychological: the humility to fall and get back up. In judo, you learn ukemi—falling techniques—before you learn to throw. That’s not just a precaution; it’s a philosophy. You don’t succeed in judo unless you know how to fall correctly, gracefully, and with awareness.
Commentary:
In many sports, “losing” is something you avoid at all costs. In judo, it’s built into the structure. Even in randori (free sparring), losing is instructional. You tap out, bow, and try again. It’s not shameful—it’s expected.
Fact Check:
Dr. Jigoro Kano, the founder of judo, emphasized seiryoku zenyo (maximum efficiency) and jita kyoei (mutual welfare and benefit). Losing to learn is a direct application of those principles.
2. “Even after years, I still feel like a beginner.”
This sentiment echoes across dojos worldwide. Judo looks simple from the outside—two people in white uniforms gripping and throwing each other—but every movement is layered with principle, leverage, timing, and sensation. The complexity is subtle. You’re not learning to overpower someone; you’re learning to use their force, their motion, their intention.
Author’s Reflection:
I still remember the first time a black belt used tai-otoshi on me. I felt like I had walked into a wall and then was suddenly weightless. There’s nothing violent about it, yet it is profoundly effective. It’s those moments that bring me back. Again and again.
For Those Who Watch, Not Fight
1. “I can’t do judo—but I can’t stop watching it.”
Miriam draws a parallel between judo and ballet—a comparison more apt than it may first appear. Both require precision, body control, and an acute awareness of timing and space. Olympic judo, in particular, can resemble a dance of strategy and energy. But even non-competitive practice has its aesthetics. The symmetry of uchikomi drills, the silent respect in the bowing rituals, the explosive fluidity of a clean ippon—all carry a visual power.
Fact Check:
At the 2020 Tokyo Olympics, judo was one of the most-watched combat sports worldwide, especially in countries like France, Japan, and Brazil. Judo isn’t just a sport—it’s a performance with deep cultural roots.
2. “It reminds me of chess—if chess could knock you down.”
The strategic depth of judo is often overlooked. But to those who take time to study it, it becomes clear: judo is not about brute strength. It’s about controlling tempo, posture, and reaction. The grip-fighting phase alone can take years to master, and each technique can be used as bait, feint, or trap.
Author’s Take:
I love this metaphor. Like chess, judo is a game of positions, gambits, and sacrifices. But unlike chess, your body is the board and the pieces. Every shift in weight, every flinch, every breath—it matters.
The Invisible Lessons
1. “Judo changed how I walk through life.”
There is something transformative in judo’s core philosophy. It’s not just about self-defense or competition. It’s a way to understand conflict—any kind of conflict—not as something to dominate but to redirect. In the dojo, this means not resisting a stronger opponent but using their strength to your advantage. In life, it might mean navigating workplace drama, arguments, or stress with poise and calm.
Fact Check:
Studies in Japan have shown that regular judo practice improves not just physical health but also emotional regulation, especially in adolescents and young adults. It’s been integrated into school programs in multiple countries for this reason.
2. “Respect is not optional. It’s built-in.”
Rituals in judo aren’t decoration; they’re discipline. You bow to your opponent, to the mat, to your sensei. You bow to begin and to end. These rituals remind you: this is not just sport—it is a tradition. It’s one of the few places where hierarchy, etiquette, and courtesy aren’t optional. They’re part of the fabric.
Author’s Comment:
That sense of built-in respect is something I’ve come to cherish. In a world where ego often dominates, judo strips it down. You win with grace, and you lose with grace. The dojo becomes a place where character is shaped through practice as much as through philosophy.
The Craft Behind the Art: Why the Details in Judo Never Stop Giving
In the first part of this series, we explored the emotional, philosophical, and observational aspects that make judo so captivating—for both practitioners and spectators. Now, we dive into the techniques, the tactile intelligence, and the nuanced depth that make judo an art form hidden inside a sport.
For those who haven’t yet set foot on the tatami, this might be the point where fascination turns into obsession. Judo’s technical world is vast, layered, and infinitely rewarding. From the strategic manipulation of grips to the subtlety of body angles, judo is a game where millimeters and milliseconds decide everything.
Every Technique is a Puzzle
1. “It’s not just about throws—it’s how and when you use them.”
Aaron’s description may sound poetic, but he’s onto something. Judo techniques, especially the throws (nage-waza), are not isolated actions. They’re context-dependent. The same seoi-nage (shoulder throw) will feel and function differently based on grip, stance, the opponent’s posture, and even how sweaty the gi is.
Author’s Note:
One of the first things you learn is that it’s not the technique that wins—it’s when you use it. Timing beats strength. Kazushi (unbalancing) beats aggression. The smallest adjustment in footwork or hip placement can determine success or failure.
Fact Check:
There are officially 68 throws in the Kodokan syllabus, divided into different categories (hand techniques, hip techniques, foot techniques, sacrifice throws, etc.). Mastery of even a single throw can take years.
2. “You don’t do judo to collect moves. You do it to refine them.”
Miyake’s insight highlights a truth that many beginners struggle with. Early on, judo feels like a checklist: learn the basic techniques, memorize the steps, pass your grading. But true judo doesn’t begin until you revisit those same techniques with a new body, a new mind, and a different perspective.
A master isn’t someone who knows more—it’s someone who understands deeper.
Fact Check:
In Japan, dan rankings (black belt levels) aren’t just about competition wins. A 6th dan like Miyake-sensei is expected to demonstrate not just technical excellence, but also deep understanding of kata (form), teaching skill, and embodiment of judo values.
The Hidden Strategies Within the Grip
1. “Kumi-kata is psychological warfare in cloth.”
Grip fighting—or kumi-kata—is often the first battle before a single throw is attempted. For experienced practitioners, the grips are the setup, the attack, and the defense all at once. Where you grip, how tightly, and how quickly you break your opponent’s grip can set the tone for the entire match.
Author’s Commentary:
As someone who has been outgripped many times, I’ve learned to respect this element immensely. A strong grip isn’t just about physical strength—it’s about angles, timing, and knowing your opponent. It’s the handshake before the storm.
Fact Check:
At high-level competition, judoka often spend up to 70% of match time in grip exchanges. The International Judo Federation (IJF) even penalizes passivity during kumi-kata to encourage engagement.
Groundwork: The Underrated Half of Judo
1. “Newaza is where patience becomes your superpower.”
Newaza, or ground techniques, is an essential yet underappreciated part of judo. Pins (osaekomi), joint locks (kansetsu-waza), and chokes (shime-waza) can win matches just as effectively as a powerful throw. But unlike the explosive nature of standing techniques, groundwork rewards strategic pressure, subtle movement, and control over time.
Author’s Observation:
I used to hate groundwork—until I lost to someone smaller than me who never gave me space to breathe. Since then, I’ve learned that newaza isn’t about size or speed. It’s about the ability to make small spaces feel suffocating.
Fact Check:
While BJJ focuses almost exclusively on groundwork, judo practitioners are allowed only 20-30 seconds to work on the ground in competition before being stood back up—unless they’re actively progressing toward a submission or pin.
Kata: The Wisdom in Repetition
1. “People see kata as boring. I see it as judo’s soul.”
Kata in judo is often misunderstood. It’s not just a sequence of choreographed moves—it’s a method for transmitting the why behind each technique. The study of kata develops precision, awareness, and the kind of timing you can’t get in sparring.
Author’s Note:
Kata taught me to slow down. In a world of instant gratification, it forced me to be patient. It reminded me that judo isn’t about quick wins—it’s about cultivating lasting skill.
Fact Check:
There are officially seven Kodokan kata, each focusing on different aspects of judo—from throwing and groundwork to self-defense and moral philosophy. Mastery of kata is essential for dan-level promotion beyond shodan (1st dan).
Why Judo’s Complexity Keeps Pulling Me Back
Judo, unlike many sports, doesn’t become easier as you progress. It becomes deeper. What seemed like a simple movement as a white belt becomes a lifetime study as a black belt. Where others see repetition, judoka see refinement. Where others see simplicity, judoka find layers of complexity.
There is a quiet richness in its form, a rhythm that feels both ancient and modern. And for those of us who remain drawn to it, the appeal is not just in the competition or the sweat, but in the constant invitation to do better—not just on the mat, but in ourselves.
Final Summary and Core Facts
Judo keeps fascinating not just because of what it teaches, but how it teaches. Through movement, resistance, and precision, judo cultivates an internal dialogue—one that refines body, mind, and spirit.
Key Takeaways:
Factual Highlights:
— See you on the tatami.