Precerpt from Grandma's Ninja Training Diary: Surviving the Cost of Training
When I first set out on this quest, I barely gave a second thought to the costs. I expected to shell out a bit for gym fees and some coaching, but I assumed much of the training could come free—woven into everyday life. Curbs became hurdles. Grocery runs turned into cardio. Living boldly became a form of strength conditioning. That theory held up, at least in part. I ran from parking lots into stores with precision, leapt off curbs like a spry teenager, and even vaulted across a car hood to land at the door of my physiotherapist (he saw that through the window once and claimed I was his only patient with stuntwoman tendencies). The misaligned elbow—earned heroically while lifting a sectional sofa one-handed—was less elegant. But the foundations of real ninja strength required more than enthusiasm. For targeted muscles and techniques, for understanding what my body was doing in motion and rest, for recovery and planning—there were no shortcuts. None of that came cheap. Cost bre...