Bushido Road

Humble Pie and a Side Order of Ribs

2012-01-22T20:43:00.009-05:00

I know I've said this before, but I absolutely love to spar. It is one of my most favorite things about karate because I learn something new each time out.

Thursday, I learned my ribs are a little tougher than I ever imagined.

While round-robin sparring in class, my Sensei stepped into the mix. He'd already told us that he was going to push us all a bit - and it became apparent after the first round with my training partner that he meant it because there was no "Yame!" after a clear hit was made. He kept going - trapping us against the wall before hitting us with a barrage of punches and even sweeping us to the floor. Knowing a technique is coming and being able to defend against it are two different things, we found. But surprise, surprise - each one of us stepped up our game because we HAD to. He told us later that getting us to do just that was exactly what he was trying to do.

As we faced off, I had an epiphany: if I waited for him to attack, I was toast. In an effort to be more pre-emptive, I began to try to move off his line to see if I could create openings. At one point, Sensei dropped his left shoulder a bit while he prepared to blitz. For some strange reason, I lifted my rear hand to attack, thinking I could somehow get to him faster than he could get to me (ha!). The next thing I felt was his (pulled) side kick landing on the right side of my rib cage. And yes, even though he stopped the technique, I saw stars.

You ever get hit so hard that there is no pain or sensation at all for a few moments? That's what happened, although it was quickly followed by an intense wave that made me want to spew profanity and drop to my knees. My mind was telling me to suck it up and keep going, but my body was saying "Sit your butt down and lick your wounds!" In the end, my body won.

It took about a minute to catch my breath - mostly because I was afraid to take a deep one because I thought my rib was broken. My right side is the side that received radiation seven years ago during my breast cancer treatment and it has been a bit more sensitive as a result. I was panting like a pack mule in what probably seemed like the most melodramatic way ever, but I'd never experienced anything like that before. Sensei, of course, felt terrible and was the first one checking my side to see if anything was broken - but it wasn't his fault, really. My raised arm presented a target, which he hit with total control. That I was moving in at the time is what caused the pain. Once I was standing again, he told me to take off my gear, have a seat and get comfy since I'd be spending the rest of the evening watching. But after observing my training partners for a few rounds, I felt OK - so much so that I put my headgear back on and asked if I could continue.

Pain, it has been said, is a great teacher. What I learned from my dance with her is that I didn't shatter into a million pieces when I got hit hard, which was kind of liberating. And since she wasn't much fun to hang out with, if I didn't want to face her like that again, keeping my rear hand down is a good idea, indeed.

She's a pretty fair teacher, I'd say...

The Year in Review

2011-12-31T23:44:00.010-05:00

Hard to believe it's almost 2012. Seems like we were just saying "Happy New Year!" and it's almost time to do it again.

This year has been an interesting one for me in the martial arts. Quite a few highs - including our first promotion at the Salvation Army dojo, adventures in cross training, seminars and workshops, tournaments, thoughts on nidan grading - as well as a few lows. But some of the best parts about 2011 were the lessons learned, venturing out and stepping out of my comfort zone.

Sharing it here with all of you has been the bestest part of all. Thanks for your ears and supporting shoulders, fellow artists. All the best to you and yours in 2012 - and here's to another amazing year!

Book Review: "How to Win a Fight"

2011-12-31T22:33:00.006-05:00

For all the martial artists out there who have friends, partners, neighbors or significant others who have no desire to train at all, I may have found THE perfect gift for them.

Lawrence Kane and Kris Wilder's "How to Win a Fight" has just about everything you always wanted to tell them but haven't yet. Complete with comic book-esque illustrations by Matt Haley, it is filled with practical information about winning a fight by avoiding it at all costs and knowing what to do, where/how to strike, when to stop if you absolutely have no choice other than to put up your dukes and defend yourself.

The standard martial arts fare is here: awareness, avoidance and de-escalation - but in simple, non-martial terms that are easy to digest and understand. Using their combined 37-years of experience in goju-ryu, judo, tae kwon do and working security, they detail personal stories and scenarios they either observed or experienced. Broken into three sections - "Before Violence Occurs," "During a Violent Encounter" and "Aftermath of Violence" - it is designed for folks who may think they know how a bar or street confrontation would go down (thanks in part to the colorful representations on television and movie theaters, mayhaps), but who have never actually dealt with the speed and ferocity a real, live violent situation might entail.

But just because it's not written specifically for martial artists doesn't mean you, dear blog reader, won't find it useful. You may train to use some potentially lethal techniques, but would you really ever use them to protect a stranger? Against a child with a weapon? Against a family member? The "How Far Am I Willing to Go" quiz in the introduction makes you think about that. The authors suggest it be taken after the last chapter is read to see if and how your answers changed (a few of mine did).

Aside from being an extremely easy read, the thing I found the most interesting about the book is the chapter on dealing with what happens after you survive that violent confrontation. How should you chat with police? When do you call an attorney? How could your claim of self-defense possibly be viewed by the legal system and why? If you've never thought about that part, you should.

"How to Win a Fight" is a good addition to any martial artist's library, too. Glad I have my copy (signed by the authors, I must say :-). Find yours at your favorite brick and mortar bookstore, Amazon and iTunes.

The Sais Have It

2011-12-31T00:01:00.010-05:00

<---Look what Santa bought me! My school is on end-of-year break (no classes at all since 12/20), but guess what I've been playing with for the last week?

Sensei introduced us to the sai about a year ago during a session on empty-hand version of kata Saifa's bunkai. We saw how the weapon could be used to rake, pull and impale if the practitioner were to place a pair of sais in those empty hands. Suffice to say that Saifa can be a nasty, nasty kata without weapons, but it's even nastier with a pair of sais. Saifa is a bit advanced to start with, so we're working on much more basic form to learn how the sais are supposed to move and function.

But before we could even get to those basics, learning how to hold and "open" the sai - moving the weapon from a non-offensive hold against the forearm to a ready-to-strike/block/trap position - was the first course of business.

When Sensei handed me his 21.5" long chrome-plated octagonal sais, I was totally scared to touch them. Unlike my bo, they were shiny, pokey and designed to be used with only one hand. They were beautiful, but also looked very heavy and kinda slippery. As Sensei spun them around slowly and demonstrated a few very basic techniques, all I could think about was having one slip out of my hand and either fly across the room or land on a training partner's foot. Nothing interrupts the flow of a great training session like a trip to the emergency room.

Let me back up and give a bit of history about the sai: these Okinawan weapons were originally used as farm tools for planting crops - and they also measured the distance between planted seeds. A multi-pronged rod, the sai was pushed into the ground where it would leave three holes. The farmer would use the third hole as a reference point and push the sai into the ground again so the holes would be evenly spaced. After many crops had been planted this way - with the farmer repetitively thrusting the sai into the ground and flipping it over to plant the seeds - it's not hard to see how he or she could build quite a bit of dexterity, strength and accuracy with these blunt instruments. Later, sais were used to fight against swords, bo staffs and tonfa. The size of your sais should be about the length of your forearm from balled fist to elbow.

Before I ever really examined a sai up close, I thought they were sharp and pointed, but the shaft (monouchi) and the side prongs (yoko) are actually blunt. The shaft can be round, heptagonal or octagonal and the thumb rests on the mid-point between the two side-prongs (moto) and pinkie, ring and middle fingers hold the handle (tsuka - which is usually wrapped in some sort of material - like leather or plastic - for easier gripping). The forefinger is usually extended along the shaft. Each weapon actually has many parts that can hurt you, including the monouchi (used to block or strike), the butt end (tsukagashira - which is used to poke) tips of the yoko (tsume - used for ripping and trapping) and the tip of the monouchi (saki - used for impaling, striking and poking). Here's a very pixelated illustration:

Back in class, after I finally worked up the nerve to hold one, I played around with Sensei's sais for a few moments, thinking the whole time that I would never, ever get used to flinging these monstrous things around. After a few tries, my forearms were killing me and I thought I must look a lot like Popeye - but I had a whole new respect for golfers, tennis and ping-pong players.

Usually when we get new info, Sensei gives us homework and our first official sai lesson was no exception. Our objective was to do 50 "opens" per side per day with strict instructions to only work one sai/hand at a time. He also suggested starting with our non-dominant hand. A natural lefty, he always learns new drills, techniques or weapons on his right side first and wanted us to do the same in reverse so, as he says, our strong side could teach the weak side. It literally took the rest of the class for me to get those first 50 in, but I did it - without any training partners suffering any injuries as a result :-). And believe it or not, this righty was much better on my left side (which was a very odd feeling). Since Santa left me my very own pair under the tree, I've been doing my homework every day and flowing my first form. I must say that manipulating them is getting a little easier every day. OK - they're not so monstrous. I'm actually starting to enjoy my new shiny, pokey and very heavy artillery.

But for the record, my forearms are still killing me.

Customer Service Blues

2011-12-19T23:03:00.012-05:00

I run a dojo at a local Salvation Army with my training partner, Ed. I'm the keeper of all things attendance and cirriculum-related and the orderer of gis, sparring gear and equipment.

Since the closest thing resembling a martial arts supply house to our town is about an hour and a half away, 99% of the gis, sparring gear and school equipment I order comes via companies I find online. Usually, all I need is a size and a credit card and the equipment arrives in about a week or so.

I understand that occasionally mistakes happen, but today marks the second time I've had to say goodbye to a company because of their less-than-stellar customer service.

The first company had prices that were managable for the families we service and I happily ordered many, many gis - three and four at a time - from them. But when a large order - one of sparring gear that we needed for an upcoming tournament - took twice as normal to arrive without explanation, I called to find out what the delay was about. The response was that because of the size of our order - an eye-popping five sets of sparring gear - I should have known it would take longer than the eight to 10 days the website said its orders normally arrived within. When I explained the situation - that the gear was needed for the youngsters who would be traveling to their very first tournament ever - they offered to expedite it so it would arrive in time - for an additional $200. And no, the customer service rep who told me that wasn't joking. The very last conversation we had was a request to remove our contact information from their marketing and mailing list because we wouldn't be ordering from them again.

About eight months ago, I stumbled across another martial arts webstore. They offered a wholesale site that enabled karate schools like mine to get even bigger discounts on gear, clothing and equipment. Since our green belts will be starting bo training soon, I ordered their bos and cases via site #2 - and wouldn't you know it - the very first bo order was screwed up (they sent a straight bo instead of the tapered one I ordered for my oldest student). I called the company and the guy who answered was a bit gruff, hinting that the guy who handled the orders worked out of his garage and there was no way he (store guy) could correct it - only the Garage Guy could. So I emailed Garage Guy - who was gracious in apologizing for the mistake made on their end and sent me a new bo without requesting the other back. That, I thought, was customer service. His one attempt to go above and beyond had earned our customer loyalty.

That is until this weekend. Two new, gi-less students' parents ordered uniforms for their children for Christmas. For one parent, I know getting the money together was a struggle, so I made sure I ordered the gi about 30 minutes after she'd proudly pressed those wrinkled bills into my hand. As site #2 had always promised order delivery (and had always made it) within 10 days or less - I felt pretty confident that the order would make it in time for my new guys' parents to have the uniforms under their Christmas trees. A few days before I ordered the gis, I'd ordered 21.5" sais (the newest weapon my sensei is having us tackle) and a heavy-weight gi for myself.

On Saturday, the sais came - but they were only 15" long. I checked the order and saw that the mistake was on the company's end as even the packing slip had the correct size. Today, the gis arrived, but although I ordered two size 3 black student weight uniforms, there were two size 2s in the box. Sigh.

Remembering what happened the last time I called, I went straight to Garage Guy via email. He apologized for sending the wrong size sais but was less than stellar in regards to the gis. He basically said he'd mail out the correct sizes and wanted me to pack up the other gis and the sais and prepare them for pick-up via Fed-Ex tomorrow. Sometime. But I'll be working tomorrow, I wrote back. And since the new stuff wouldn't arrive until after Christmas, coudln't I just schedule the pickup for Tuesday so at least the parents would have some uniform for their kids on Christmas Day, I asked? His reply? "Please have my package ready for pickup tomorrow or I will have to charge you the call tag fees."

The packages were delivered to my home - and I live in a very safe neighborhood - but he didn't know that. Garage Guy had no idea that the address was not our dojo - which is in the middle of an econmically challenged area that I would NOT have felt comfortable leaving a package on the doorstep of AT ALL. You might want to check with your customers about their availability BEFORE you call to schedule a pick-up for an order YOU screwed up next time, dude. I'm just sayin'.

The attitude from Garage Guy was a little too "well - it's your problem" for my tastes. This company - via Garage Guy - made me feel like somehow I had done something wrong, when in fact it was his mistake that caused the need for a re-do - twice in as many orders, I might add. Plus, I've already shelled out money for products I don't yet have. Not cool - which is what I replied to him before I asked him to also remove our contact information from their mailing lists. There are too many other martial arts supply companies out there for me to be feeling like I'm wrong for expceting them to fix their mistake without inconveniencing me too much. They may be able get by with crappy customer service - but it won't be with my student's hard-earned ducats, that's for sure. We'll be taking those ducats elsewhere from now on.

Remember wholesalekarate.com - and other webstores like you: you are only as good as your least satisfied customer, no matter how big or small your company is. That is the only way to keep customers. At least, that's the only way to keep this one.

Hair's the Thing...

2011-11-12T08:49:00.009-05:00

Warning: This is a particularly female-friendly post. If you've never had to hold your hair back with bobby pins and a headband or you've never dumped out your gear bag in a mad search for a scrunchy before class, you may, of course, still read this, but some of the references may leave you scratching your head.

A few months ago, I read a post on a martial arts message board about what female practitioners do with their do when training.The original poster asked if others always wore their hair up/back or always wore it down and free when training and why. The answers were pretty thoughtful, with most women either cutting their hair short or wearing it back to keep it out of their faces on the mat. A few said they generally kept it down, just like they do during other parts of their day for the sake of "realism" - meaning that if they found themselves in the middle of a confrontation on the street without a hair-tie, they didn't want to have to worry about how they would deal with tangled or grabbed tresses.

Realism for me is that my hair most often behaves during class but becomes an absolute hard-to-manage mess after. That makes converting back to Corporate America Jane the next day that much tougher because my hair always seems to look like I've just been in a fight. Not the look I'm going for at all.

I've got what my dojo family hears me refer to as BGH - Black Girl Hair. It's thick and dry without a consistent curl/wave pattern in its natural state, although I haven't seen that natural state in a while thanks to the chemicals to relax the curl that I've been putting in it since I was about nine years old. It used to behave when I was dressed in anything but my PJs - until I started training on tracks and in weight rooms at age 15. Moisture (that includes sweat) tends to make my want to curl again - which is why washing it is such a major ordeal and something that just can't be done every day (once weekly is the goal).

But it's not just the washing that's the thing; it's the relaxing and the styling. And since I'm getting older, it's also the coloring to cover the grey. Suffice to say that as I've..umm...matured and my training has grown to include more days each week, my hair has become more and more of an expensive, stress-inducing, time-leeching aggravation - and that just ain't cool.

Since college, I've been the one doing all the work on my do as regular visits to the salon - other than to get it trimmed - were not something I could afford (for those guys still reading: a salon trip for a wash/"set" or relaxer/perm and cut costs $50-$80 and can be closer to $100 if you add coloring). I have a few friends who say they couldn't be bothered with all that hair-doing - so they spend hours and hours a pop in the salon. Highlights, braids, extensions and coloring all take major maintenance, which means you sort of get to know your stylist pretty well because you see him/her so often. I simply do not have time for that.

I dyed my hair last weekend. It literally took three days before it stopped looking like a Brillo pad and began to look like it did before I whipped out my box of Dark and Lovely. That's three days of scrunchies, folks. It was just. sad.

This past Thursday was a long, 13-hour day for me - culminating with an evening meeting that pre-empted class. By the time I got home, my hair was flying every which way and looked quite tore up from the floor up. Had I dyed my hair Rihanna Red instead of jet black, I would have seriously looked like a brown Bozo the Clown.

So yesterday, after a few suggestions on where to go for a good cut from some friends, I hit the salon. My goal was to get my coife cut into something that was easy to manage in the mad dash that is my morning (I'm talking finger-fluff and go) but could also hold up under a sparring helmet without looking like a spiky rat's nest after a two-hour class. I found a picture of style I liked in one of my old Essence magazines and was off to meet Christina at Fantastic Cuts.

"So" she said when she picked up the scissors after I'd been shampooed and dried. "Are you sure you want to cut it so short?" And I was. I only second-guessed for a fleeting moment when the hair that used to be attached to my head started piling up on the floor around us.

But the finished product was amazing - if I do say so myself. The back is scalp short, but the sides and top are long and even (no layers that will take forever to style). It dips over one eye so I can look serious and serene in my work uniform (glasses and kitten heels) and ready to roll in my other one (a gi). I didn't really sweat too much in class last night (it was a "thinking" night), but it wasn't flying everywhere and wiry at evenings end. When I got home, I dabbed it with some leave-in overnight product, wrapped it in my trusty scarf and called it a night. This morning when I untied the scarf and fluffed with my fingers, it was good to go!

The tally:
Shampoo, cut and tip: $50.
New teeny-weeny flat iron from the beauty supply shop down the road: $25
Time spent getting my do done: two hours
Having one less thing to stress over each morning: Priceless :-)

I should have done this years ago...

Diamonds in the Rough

2011-11-06T22:56:00.011-05:00

Yesterday, our little group from the Salvation Army caravanned up to Herkimer, NY for the Diamond Valley Classic Karate Tournament. Always a good mix of styles and talent, it was the very first tournament most of our students had ever competed in last year. Back then, they were brand new and not quite sure what this karate thing was about, but willing to give the tournament a shot. Although winning was not the focus, I'd be lying if I said it that watching our youngest competitors (all of five years old) leave their ring holding trophies that were almost as big as they were didn't make me smile a little.

This year, all but two of our students had competed before so the venue, format and time schedule were not new to them at all. They were focused and ready to compete - so much so that more than a few folks came up to us during and after the tournament to make a comment or two. They weren't just talking about the katas or sparring. Training partner Ed and I heard time and time again about our students' confidence and poise - and how gracious and humble they were both when they won and when they didn't. For us, that is what it's all about.

In the middle of the meet, the director called us over and asked us to wait with him for a moment in the center of the gym. He then presented us with the Top School award. It was our turn to be humbled - by the very students we instruct.

There was some amazing competition in all divisions (check out this video of weapon's grand champion Sensei Jeff Melander to see for yourself), but that wasn't all there was to see yesterday. Outside of the ring, I saw one of my parents tear up as he watched/filmed his seven-year-old's first ever kata presentation. I watched my sensei and many other high-ranking dans get out of their seats after judging all day, step into the ring to spar/present kata and give clinics on how to do the damn thing. And every Grand Championship given out yesterday - for kata, weapons and men's and women's kumite - was awarded to black belts in the "Executive" (over 35) Division. Score FOUR for the old-heads :-)

Here's what the Grand Champion's plaque looks like (this one happens to be hanging on the wall in my den now :-):

My honey was there with us - filming and helping with the parents to hand out water, fruit and granola bars and to get everyone to their proper rings on time. I watched the video this morning, saw some kata and kumite that I missed while judging and competing and remembered what an amazing learning tool video is. But even for those who haven't seen any video yet, I'm sure they learned as much as I did - including the fact that there is always more to learn. Hats off to you, Shin Ri Tan Kyu Martial Arts Academy students, for doing your best and re-enforcing the idea that a family (ryu) is much more than the people you happen to be related to.

Trouble in Paradise

2011-11-03T15:52:00.006-04:00

My home life is usually a pretty cool place to be. Last night, however, I got grief from my significant other for the time I spend away from it. I thought he was talking about my time in the dojo or gym or on my way to the dojo or gym as the class I take is two hours away and I also teach locally two nights a week. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that he was really complaining about the amount of time I spend with my training partner, Ed.

I met Ed about four years ago in the gym. Ironically, I'd happened to wear a t-shirt with a Goju fist on it that day (and that's ironic because I had never worn that shirt before and I haven't worn it since); since he'd just moved to our suburb from NYC and wasn't aware that there was a Goju dojo in the area, he saw my shirt and inquired about where I trained. His wife was on the treadmill next to him so I met her at the same time.

We've trained together ever since. We did forms and Ippons side-by-side every day for six months before our shodan grading. We left our old instructor/school together and have traveled the hour each way to get to class with our (now not-so) new instructor twice a week for the past two-and-a-half-years. We started a karate program for youngsters at the Salvation Army together and we teach side-by-side two days a week. He and his family have eaten at my dinner table and my family has eaten at his. Retired from a career in corrections, he was also my son's barber for quite a while and was one of the many people who helped teach him how to drive. Suffice to say he's very much like a brother to me.

So, yeah, I guess we do spend a lot of time together - karate time. I was the first one to congratulate him when we got the news he would be testing for nidan earlier this year and he was the first to console me when we knew I wouldn't be testing along side him - purely happenstance, as I was in class kneeling next to him when the announcement came. Our relationship is purely plutonic - or as another friend put it, karate-tonic. He's a good egg.

My honey, howeverer doesn't quite get this. Although he studied Judo as a kid and joined our class for a few months this summer, I'm not sure the idea of the never-ending pursuit of learning that is the martial arts makes sense to him. He does have other interests and understands athletic goals (he's a coach of a nationally ranked track team and still competes in the sport himself) but this martial path seems totally foreign to him. And I'm not quite sure what to do about that.

If you have a spouse or partner that is not a martial artist, how do they feel about the amount of time you spend teaching and learning? How do you deal with those feelings?

The Adventures of Bug Girl

2011-10-21T08:32:00.005-04:00

Yesterday I was sitting at my desk, minding my business and doing the work that I am paid to do. When I picked up my calendar to shift it to another corner of the desk, a centipede-type of bug crawled from underneath it and headed straight for me. I screamed like I was being attacked, leaped over my desk and sprinted out of the office. Everyone on the floor poked their heads out of their offices to see what the commotion was about. The few who know I teach karate in town, chuckled at the irony of a black belt being freaked out by a bug.

But it had a lot of legs and looked really, really evil. Seriously.

For the record, I am a "green" tree-hugger. I recycle like a woman possessed, drive a hybrid, try my best to conserve paper and don't kill bugs at all - even if they have found their way into my living space (a stink bug fell from the ceiling last week; I scooped it up in a bathroom cup and freed it via the window). Spiders, surprisingly, don't bother me at all. The only things that do give me pause are large groups of bugs (a colony of ants for example) or bugs with lots of limbs (I just got a chill from typing that last part!). But I do know exactly where my phobia comes from, thought.

When I was about 14 or so, my mom asked me to shift an outdoor rug that was on our patio. I walked outside in sandals and lifted up a brick that was holding one of the corners in place. A gang of pincher bugs fell from the bottom of the brick onto my feet. None actually pinched, but I screamed, kicked off my shoes, hurdled the railing and proceeded to scratch my legs and feet for the better part of two hours (even after a long shower). It totally weirded me out (and I just scratched my leg after typing about it). Even after all these years, I still remember what it felt like to have those bugs fall on my feet. Ick.

All day yesterday, my co-workers commented (and chuckled) about my bug adventure. My officemate killed the offending creature (which kind of made me sad) - but he couldn't get over my freak-out session. He promptly branded me "Bug Girl" and said that he might have to re-think his decision to have me as one of the folks he'd walk through the rough section of town with. A former martial artist himself (he studied TKD as a kid), he seemed to be under the impression that once you become a black belt in a martial art, you fear nothing at all - be it mugger in the bushes, knife-wielding bad guy or an army of bugs. Well, I'm here to testify that nothing can be further from the truth.

I may be a karateka, but there are still things that scare me - even though I train on a regular basis to "handle" those things. I might have to face that mugger, bad guy or army of beetles, but that doesn't mean I don't have some fear about having to face them. According to writer/humanitarian James Baldwin, being courageous enough to face fear doesn't mean that you aren't experiencing any. He actually describes courage as a mere weapon with which to keep that fear in check. The two aren't necessarily mutually exclusive.

OK - so maybe running screaming from the room wasn't the best way to handle my fear. But truthfully, I'm really happy that I didn't toss everything off my desk trying to shoe the bug away or that I didn't just sit there and stare, frozen by fear. I had a plan - and that plan was all about avoiding that bug at all costs.

Doing something is better than doing nothing, I suppose. Maybe next time I'll just walk briskly out of the room, though (considering that there might even BE a next time made me itch a little!)...

36 Days and Counting

2011-09-30T17:58:00.006-04:00

Yep - THE tournament - the Diamond Valley Classic - is only five short weeks away. Seems like an eternity from now, but at the same time, It seems like it is just around the corner, too.

I've been flowing my kata daily and working on my point sparring, but I'm getting nervous - like knees shaky and stomach in knots nervous - every time I think about it. I know everything will be fine once we get up there and get going, but still...

Our students are working hard, too. Prepping for kata presentation - y'know, the name/style/senei/form "speech" - always trips them up a little, especially the shy ones. Only a few are nervous about kumite, though. Not sure if that is good or bad!

The bottom line is this: for each of us - from training partner Ed and me, down through the few who are competing for the first time ever - it will be what it will be. I think you learn a little about yourself each and every time you compete. It takes lots of guts to even step into the ring in the first place - even if it isn't "real" (can't tell you how many times I've heard THAT particular argument).

Our students only compete three times a year max. We go to this particular tournament because it is just the right size (not too small, not too big), fairly well judged, not too far away or expensive and it allows our young karateka to step out of their Goju worlds and see other martial artists present different styles of kata and kumite. But the truth of it is that I'd rather the first punch they see coming at them from an unknown assailant (without first announcing what side it will be coming from and what type of attack they'll need to defend against) be in the nice, controlled setting of a ring with five judges - and while they are decked out in dipped foam gear from head to toe. If they freeze or make a mistake there, the consequences won't be that severe. Can't say the same for an attack on the street. No freezing allowed...

Plus, they genuinely enjoy themselves. Many of them don't get a chance to get out of town much - even to a little town in upstate, NY. We pack the Salvation Army's 12-passenger van and lead a caravan of karate vehicles full of karate enthusiasts, parents and friends up to watch, compete and enjoy the day. "The world is much larger than your view of it" is what they hear us say at the end of most of our classes, but they get to really experience it that first Saturday in November, which is kind of nice. The community cooler will be full of water, sports drinks and healthy snacks and the parents help make sure all the kids get to their rings (and to the bathrooms, LOL) throughout day, so the understanding of our little group as a ryu - a family - comes through without us having to say a word.

We also tell them that the trophies are not what the day's competition is all about, but keeping their chi high and doing their best are. They get it, compete well (especially when they don't even place) and have loads of fun in the process.

Herkimer here we come :-)

The "P" Word

2011-09-24T10:16:00.006-04:00

Ummm...that'd be "promotions" folks. Yep - grading was discussed vaguely in class this week. I was simply told to "prepare to look ahead towards the next level."

What that means is this: be ready for anything. Training partner Ed's nidan grading was mentioned then happened without him being told "tomorrow is the day." So sharpening, tightening and refining wasn't really an "OK - I've got to do THIS to prepare" sort of thing as it was for our shodan grading (we knew about that one for a year) - it just happened.

But truthfully, I don't believe there ever really is a date when the info you've learned and the skills you've acquired are "done" like cookies in the oven. A little less time won't make them a totally incohesive mess; neither will a little more time burn them to a crisp.

I had always envisioned my heart thudding like a drum and an overwhelming OMG! pause when I got the word, but none of that happened. I just sort of filed it away to think about later - after the Diamond Valley Classic tournament upstate in early November (six short weeks away!). What actually went through my mind was "That's cool - but I wonder if we're going to have time to spar tonight?" Grand championship on the brain, I guess :-).

So, no date or anything has been announced, just a slight mention that nidan maybe somewhere on the horizon. It was mentioned, we trained and now I can just continue to do the same and not have to really think about it. It is what it is.

In my head, I hear my senseis channeling a wine commercial from back in the day: "We will grade no karateka before it's time."

Or was that its (possessive) time? Ha - time will most certainly tell, that's for sure.

Food for Thought

2011-09-15T13:54:00.007-04:00

Maybe it was reading Samurai Girl Sahara's recent post or the book I'm reviewing about fighting, but violence has been on my mind quite a bit lately. I'm in somebody's dojo or gym six days a week and still I feel somewhat unprepared emotionally for a real, live violent confrontation. My belief is that I'll be able to flip that switch I have to, but can you ever truly prepare for that?

This morning, I found this quote on a new FaceBook page I "liked" yesterday:

“Let the first act of every morning be to make the following resolve for the day: I shall not fear anyone on Earth. I shall fear only God. I shall not bear ill will toward anyone. I shall not submit to injustice from anyone. I shall conquer untruth by truth. And in resisting untruth, I shall put up with all suffering.”
― Mahatma Gandhi

I know Gandhi was not about fisticuffs at all so violence is not even mentioned, but I think it fits somehow. It certainly set my train of thought in a new direction, that's for sure.

Triangles, Circles & Crane Stances - Oh My!

2011-08-28T15:59:00.010-04:00

My karate sensei talks loads about triangles - specifically about how strong they are. There are so many kata where our hands end up in some kind of modified triangle or other. Whenever he points out another triangle in a kata, ippon kumite or self-defense technique, I always think of the Great Pyramids of Egypt: still standing after centuries.

Circles are referenced a great deal as well in Goju, Aikido and Jujitsu. So many times, the technique isn't complete until your hands, arms, legs and/or feet end up exactly where they started - including blocks/strikes like mawashi uchi (two-hand circular block) and hiraken uchi (rolling back fist), simple movements like the crescent steps (half-circle stance movements) and kicks like ushiro geri (traditional back kick). Both Jujitsu and Aikido often use energy generated by the adversary against him/her by first moving him/her in a circle then abruptly making the person go the other way via a joint lock or strike. Cool stuff :-)

So imagine my surprise when yesterday in Jujitsu, I discovered that one body part might be completing a circle while another is moving in a totally different - and straight - direction. We were working on a self-defense technique that involved first linearly evading a straight punch then trapping the punch hand and guiding the adversary down until his/her face is at knee level by controlling the elbow you just acquired. The two other students I was working with were my height or taller and when Sensei A. - my 6'2" Jujitsu instructor - saw that we were all having some difficulties getting our tall selves out of the way of the attack, he had us drill the movements in what he calls "kata form" - which means slowly, deliberately and very much like the kata flow drill I learned about a year ago. He had us line up and stand with our hands up, feet together and knees bent before instructing us to step back then turn 90 degrees to the right to emulate the movement in the technique. The turn placed us into a perfect Sagi Ashi-Dachi (crane stance) - before we stepped forward with the rear leg, did a 180 degree turn and ended up in another Sagi Ashi-Dachi. "Now pair up and do the technique again," Sensei A. said - and yep, we all nailed it. Seeing the crane stance turn on itself - in a complete circle - was truly an ah-ha! moment for all of us. I felt like doing the happy dance right in the middle of the dojo!

And to think, I actually hated geometry in high school...

Limitations...

2011-08-24T22:44:00.004-04:00

"Nothing limits achievement like small thinking; nothing expands possibilities like unleashed imagination."
- William Arthur Ward

Marking the Calendar

2011-08-22T17:31:00.018-04:00

Got an email today I've been waiting a whole year for: one about an upcoming tournament. It is one of three tournaments I try to compete in each year and it kicks off the competitive season for me. I've circled the date on my the calendar, even --->.

Each year at this tournament, I get a little bit closer to the grand championship in sparring. Two years ago, I won my division but the "Executive Women" (that's the over-40 set, LOL) were not included in the grand championship round robin. Last year we were, but I kind of lost my head in the grand championship round when my opponent - the 18-year-old winner of the black belt women's under-35 division - dropped like a rock when I hit her in the gut. I'm talking fight stopped, me forced to kneel while the medics attended to her, the whole nine. That had never happened to me before - and my fight was pretty much done as a result because once the action resumed I was flat-footed and reactionary instead of staying aggressive and on my toes - my head completely out of it because I'd actually hurt someone young enough to be my daughter. Can't tell you how ticked I was that I allowed the situation to take me off my game. Lesson learned - because that certainly won't happen again...

I've heard it said many times that in order to do a thing, you have to first admit that you want to do it then set a goal in order to make it happen. I think a scene from one of my favorite "feel good" flicks - "Akeelah and the Bee" - best illustrates that. When she begins her training, her coach makes Akeelah admit something she'd probably never said aloud before: that she wants to win the Scripps National Spelling Bee. She whispers a simple "I want to win," at first, but he makes her repeat it over and over again until she is able to scream it at the top of her lungs - and mean it.

So here goes: I want to be the Women's Kumite Grand Champion at the Diamond Valley Classic this November. There - I said it. OK - I'm still whispering right now, but each day I train, I not only get another day closer to the one circled on my calendar, but my whisper gets a little louder, too. It'll be a scream at the top of my lungs real soon :-)

Black Belt Excellence

2011-08-03T16:46:00.008-04:00

Found this quote on friend's FaceBook wall today and had to share it:

"Black Belt Excellence comes through consistent training. When things are darkest, toughest, and all seems lost...TRAIN and this too shall pass...it does get better.. in fact it is better than you think already...Have an attitude of gratitude! If you think you are done then you are!! Get to class!!!"
- Tom Arcuri

Thanks to a massive sinus headache (courtesy of the lovely humidity), I won't make it to class tonight, but you better believe that once my meds kick in, I'm hitting the heavy bag in the garage and working some kata. Thanks for the gentle nudge, Tom :-)

Politically Incorrect

2011-07-23T19:15:00.007-04:00

A few months ago when I was visiting a class I frequent, the instructor referred to one of his adult students as "Fat Man." A few of the other karateka chuckled, but since the student is a good friend, I know weight - and trying to lose some - are big issues for him. OUCH.

In another class, the sensei is big on telling all his students that gender doesn't matter on the mat and that there are only karate students in his class, not males and females - but when demonstrating self-defense techniques, he is quick to jump on the "women are delicate creatures" bandwagon by insisting the females do techniques that involve raking or poking the eyes with our long, "fresh-from-the salon" fingernails (yep - he actually said that) that none of us have (because as martial artist, we can't make a proper fist with them) while having the males work on punches to the face. The reason, he says, is that most women don't want to hurt their hands by punching with their fists. Sexist OUCH.

Although he is now a third kyu, one of the kyus that came over from my old school to the new one still has a bit of difficulty with his some of his rolls, falls and kick placement because his first instructor (who was also my first instructor) didn't place much emphasis on those basics. Today in class, an instructor addressed the group after the kyu demonstrated a front roll to emphasize the importance of having a solid foundation of basics. "The color of your belt is only to show the number of years you've been training, really," he said." It doesn't necessarily tell you how SKILLED a person is." Unintentional OUCH.

Another sensei I've trained with is big on pointing out the errors in technique, which is a good thing. But although I know it's designed to make us all better martial artists, I gotta tell you that it's diffucult to hear "NOPE!" or "That's totally wrong" or "You're doing that like a white belt" over and over without feeling like you can't do anything right. Gut-wrenching OUCH.

I've seen the look on the faces of students when they've been put on blast in class and it is hard to watch. But what's even harder to watch is when the person dishing out the harsh words doesn't realize the effect what they've said has had. To them I say this: you may think it's helping build character/toughening your students up, but in reality, what you're doing is the verbal equivalent of bullying. That might be the way you learned, but perhaps the same is not the best way to train others.

In other words, whether you are a student, student teacher, sempai or head instructor, be careful with how you address folks on the mat. Maybe this anonymous quote sums it up best: "Keep your words sweet. You may have to eat them later."

Salvation Army Grading

2011-07-20T14:43:00.007-04:00

Last weekend was a big one for our kyu students at the Salvation Army. After training together for almost a year and a half, 24 of the karateka graded for higher rank. After the certificates, belts and stripes were all handed out, we all enjoyed covered dish yummies made by the parents. A good time was had by all - especially training partner Ed, who earned his nidan :-)

5-yr-old Gary stretching during the warmup

His 7-yr-old sister, Diane, braking her first board ever (w/ Ed holding)

James presenting an ippon

My son, Malcolm, facing Sensei Joe in kumite

Stephanie (l) works an aiki jitsu with uke Diane

Sensei S. (R) and his sensei, Kyoshi K. stretching before kumite

Andrew gets congratulations from Sensei Joe, Kyoshi, Sensei S and SBN Slater...

Before I tied on his shiny, new brown belt :-)

Ed bowing to SBN Slater after earning his nidan

The gang - complete with new promotees - is all here

Cross Training Blues: Confessions of a Work in Progress

2011-07-13T09:57:00.009-04:00

For the past five years, I've been going to a weekend martial arts gathering in upstate New York called Super Summer Seminars. The opportunity to learn a little something about Jeet Kun Do, Judo, Kung Fu, BJJ and even traditional Okinawan kata bunkai is something I look forward to each July.

After last year's seminars, I tried to take that concept out of the workshops and apply it to my own martial life, mixing a little Aikido first and now JuJitsu into my training regiment. I have no problem strapping on a white belt at all because it's all about the learning to me. But perhaps there is a point where the "new" art(s) starts to crowd the tried and true. Hmmm...

My example: my "think on your feet" self-defense needs work. Last week, the JuJitsu class added a Thursday night adults only class where they do nothing but work through self-defense techniques strictly off a hook and/or straight punch. They work on opening moves to evade and counter before looking for openings to take the adversary out of the fight - via strikes, wrist locks/arm bars or sweeps. Good stuff I most definitely need - because we never did anything like this in my first school and we only do it a bit at my current school - but getting there means my regular school's Thursday night class gets pre-empted. It's not a problem this month (I'm taking the month of July off from my regular classes specifically to work on some things), but next month, when I return to my regular routine, it might be.

My sensei and I talked about it and although he seemed to understand my need for some time away when we first spoke, the grapevine (every school has one, I'm sure) has indicated that he's not all that thrilled that my primary learning is now coming from outside the school (I'm also taking a Jujitsu class on Mondays and I have been traveling down to NYC on alternate Wednesdays to get my booty kicked cardio-vascularly at Harlem Goju since April or so - and both are days when my school has no scheduled classes). I'm still teaching the little ones on Fridays and Saturdays (and may soon add an "adult newbie" class to the mix on Sundays), and was really only looking for a way to supplement my regular training, not replace it forever. But with the different vibe that is in the dojo as of late, I thought it best to step away for a minute - and I am glad that I did. I'm not leaving the school or even USA Goju for that matter - just taking a moment to re-group and re-charge. Obviously, he and I need to have another chat about it...

And this training is totally new and most unlike anything I've ever done before. Not innate by any means, moving around and under an adversary to secure a lock is - challenging. I still get that little pang of dread when it's my turn to give it a go, but it's dissipating a bit with each class.

Nothing different I guess. I'm still a work in progress.

In Defense of Self...

2011-07-06T12:23:00.004-04:00

I have a confession to make: I didn't begin studying martial arts to learn how to defend myself.

I actually started when I was in graduate school, working full-time, playing taxi-driver to my then 10-year-old son and undergoing radiation to my chest wall as part of my breast cancer treatment. I'd just retired from a 23-year career in track and field to start said grad school/crazy mom path and I really missed sweating. Going from training for three to four hours a day/six days a week to doing nothing more strenuous than walking up a flight of stairs to get to class was a bit disorienting, so when my son's sensei invited me to try the class, I took him up on it.

Of course I'm glad I did, but as we didn't spend much time at all on practical self-defense applications to the techniques we were learning, I'm a little behind on thinking on my feet when a real punch (as opposed to one padded in dipped foam from a friendly uke) comes flying at me. I'm not so much "deer in the headlights" as I used to be, but many times after that block or evasion, I pause to think about what I could/should do next. Sensei S., whom I've trained with now for the past two years, calls it "karate by the numbers" and it is my biggest barrier to testing for nidan in September. Sigh.

Last week, I took my friend, Sensei A, up on his long-standing offer to drop by his dojo to check out the jujitsu class he teaches. As disappointed as he was that I didn't gi up that night (I was supposed to be only watching, after all), he kept talking to me during his instruction, inviting me to get in for a closer look at some techniques, giving me some tips on looking for openings without working too hard to avoid, block and counter. I knew I was coming back, but I don't think he believed me until I showed up in gi last night.

Jujitsu is very different from karate - as was aikido - but also similar in many respects. For example, the blocks, kicks, punches and evasive moves are almost identical, but how we got there (always stepping into the fray - as in AT the oncoming punch or kick) was a little different. We also did lots of techniques off an uke-initiated roundhouse punch to the face which was cool. And both my uke (a 15-year-old yellow belt who is also 6'2" and lanky like me) and Sensei A were tossing them right at my jaw/cheekbone, forcing me to block correctly, get out of the way, or get clocked. Let's just say that pain is a great motivator to step up the learning curve.

My wrists are a little taxed today from some of the locks, but that's a good thing. Better still, I got to work on my break-falls when it was my turn to uke as every technique ended up with the attacker on the ground. No teeth rattles or crazy landings for me - which is also a good thing :-). And I got to work on my sweeps and take-downs in real time (as opposed to the gentle guiding I sometimes do). Suffice to say a good time was had and I'll be heading back again tomorrow night, too.

Just scratching the surface here - as we haven't really even gotten into much of the good stuff that happens once you get to the ground - but I can see how this can be as much of a complement to my training as aikido was (which, sadly, I can't attend anymore due to the distance and class schedule). My sensei is fine with it and actually encourages us to branch out, broaden our horizons and see/learn all we can. "Discard the bad and keep the good" is part of our dojo kun, so it's all about the learning.

Onward...

Starting SOMEwhere

2011-06-29T20:27:00.009-04:00

For a few years now, I've thought about becoming certified to teach women's self-defense. Actually, I've obsessed about it for the better part of the last three years and ended up taking every self-defense seminar and workshop I could just to see just what the actual teaching of one would entail. Mostly, I liked what I saw - except for one thing: the obligatory beating of a man in a padded suit that stemmed from the predication that "stranger danger" - in the form of an evil-doer jumping out from behind the bushes or sneak attacking from behind - is the biggest threat the average Jane faces.

But it isn't. The reality is that the majority of women who are attacked are attacked by people that they know. Here are a few statistics pulled from the National Domestic Violence Hotline website that drives the point home better than I ever could:

*On the average, more than three women are murdered by their husbands or boyfriends every day.

* One in five female high school students reports being physically and/or sexually abused by a dating partner.

* One in three teens report knowing a friend or peer who has been hit, punched, slapped, choked or physically hurt by a partner.

*As many as 324,000 women each year experience intimate partner violence during their pregnancy.

*Seventy-four percent of all murder-suicides involved an intimate partner (spouse, common-law spouse, ex-spouse, or boyfriend/girlfriend). Of these, 96 percent were females killed by their intimate partners.

The martial artist-me reasonably believes that if I was assaulted, I'd be able to do whatever I needed to physically to get away. But punching a STRANGER in the nose has got to be different than punching someone that I know - and who knows me. And none of the WSD workshops I went to ever addressed that.

So next weekend, I'm putting together one that does :-). A short (two-hour) workshop that mostly emphasizes awareness, avoidance and de-escalation with a little bit of very basic physical techniques, the curriculum is based on the National Women's Martial Arts Foundation's Self Defense Empowerment Model, which is eventually where I will seek certification. Unlike R.A.D., Fight Like a Girl and S.A.F.E. systems, dealing with acquaintance violence is a huge part of the program. I'm really excited and really nervous about it as well.

I'll let you know how it turns out :-)

Out of Sorts

2011-06-22T15:55:00.004-04:00

Ever have one of those classes? Y'know - where nothing goes quite right and you just can't flow for squat?

My last few classes have been just like that. Training sessions like those are the most draining and frustrating things on the planet to me.

Part of the problem is that I'm going through some emotional non karate-related stuff, including the pending high school graduation of my son (tomorrow) and the stress associated with getting everything together for his walk down the aisle to flip his tassel. Another part of it is that my sensei is also going through some emotional non karate-related stuff, including relationship and relocation issues. Sure, shoes, attitudes and personal "laundry" should get left at the dojo door, but suffice to say that - to me, at least - the vibe in the training hall is off a bit, which is starting to make training there something I'm not quite as excited about as I used to be. And I'm not quite sure what to do with that.

So, to get back a little of the fervor before I start to dread going completely, I've been thinking about taking a small break. I'll still be training - both on my own and at perhaps a little in Jujitsu (got an invite several months ago from a local sensei who has visited our class on several occasions) - just not at my school. Who knows - maybe a month or so of training in a different environment will be good for me. Time will tell.

This will really be my first non-injury karate pause since I started almost six-and-a-half years ago. The only other time I stayed away from the dojo for longer than a class or two was for a six-week recoup from reconstruction surgery, and I swear, I thought I was going to tear my hair out without karate - but I survived by watching kata videos and visiting the dojo a few times. This will be a little different, but just as necessary, I think.

Ever taken a break from training? How did you spend your time away from the mat? How easy or difficult was it to return?

How Much is TOO Much?

2011-06-07T15:38:00.012-04:00

Is it ever too early to introduce a brand-new martial artist to hard physical contact? I'm not talking about a punch to the arm or a light kick to the gut, but powerful techniques from folks who've not only been training longer and are more experienced but who are bigger, faster and stronger?

There's a bit of a debate going on over at the Women's Forum of Martial Talk.com about a young woman who has only been training for four months feeling intimidated by how advanced the guys in her training hall are - and how hard they hit. Now, I'm most definitely of the "It's karate, not knitting so expect there to be contact" school of thought, but I still can't get behind the "tough it out, it make you a better martial artist!" refrains in some of the replies.

But really, something about the idea that she's asking for advice on how to get over feeling intimidated by her training partners seems strange to me.

Her original question:

I'm a small 24 y.o. woman, not very strong. I feel it's important to learn to defend myself so I started martial arts. I've been going for four months now but I still feel really intimidated in the class full of men. Some of them are nice but some are quite advanced and are in my opinion quite hostile - and they hit hard. I like my teacher but I am a slow learner it seems, and this may be annoying for the advanced students. Any advice from instructors/other women about feeling initimidated?

If you read through the thread, you'll see that most of the advice she's gotten to date has centered around her speaking up to her training partners and asking them to temper their hits/kicks/blocks and even speaking to her instructor if the "I'm gonna blast you across the room" techniques don't cease - and I agree - but really, should she HAVE to tell more advanced students not to kick her in the face? Shouldn't the idea that folks who have just started on the path not being quite ready for full-power techniques be a given?

I remember being punched in the face THREE TIMES by a fourth dan during a basic jab drill when I was only a seventh kyu. I'd been training for less than a year and had no idea what to do. I know NOW that he should have had the most control/been the safest person in the room, but as a newbie, I wasn't quite sure if getting hit in the nose that much was drill protocol - I just know it made me feel really uncomfortable, whether it was the norm or not.

But who knows what "normal" is when they decide to step on the mat for the first time? After they've been training for a few months? Whether there to learn self-defense, to sweat a bit or simply for the challenge of learning something new, the environment that is martial arts training is a pretty unique one. The rules of what is appropriate and what isn't aren't posted on the wall but rather learned as we go - and usually, they are learned by watching and working with more advanced training partners.

It should come down to the student deciding what is appropriate contact-wise for her/him - regardless of her/his level/rank, but is that what really happens? Like I said in my reply, I think everyone should totally be able to say if/when the contact is too much. I don't think it is ever OK for others - be they fellow students or instructors - to determine what is and isn't "too hard or too much" for anyone else. Insisting that they "tough out" whatever is dished out in order to learn is the fastest way to chase a person right out of the training hall, IMHO.

The reality is that most women have probably never been hit until they kick off their shoes and step onto the mat - and if they have, it probably wasn't by a guy who out-weighs her by 50 lbs or so in an environment that is supposed to be about learning and fun to some extent. I don't really see how facing dudes with absolutely no control or a dimmer switch teaches anyone how to be a better martial artist - just how to "take" a punch. But what does that have to do with becoming a good martial artist? To me, that demonstrates only how easily we bruise and bleed in a "oh look! I almost ruptured my spleen today!" sort of way. That is not quite all the karate I study is about.

There are reasons we wear pads while training - primarily so we don't hurt the person on the receiving end of a kick/punch/block too much. Sure, punch like you mean it, but to me, there is a big difference between a solid technique with intent and one that is meant to blast the uke out of the ring just for ha-ha's. Let the contact be appropriate for the learner's level, that's all I'm sayin'...

OK - rant over. Thanks for indulging me :-)

For the Girls

2011-05-31T09:25:00.012-04:00

Consolidating some files on my 'puter, I found a few photos from gradings and tournaments past. I've been blessed enough to have had the genuine fortune to train along side some truly amazing karateka. For me, the photos are inspirational (hope they are for you as well). Way to fight like girls, ladies :-)

"Why Do You Train?" - Take 43

2011-05-18T12:07:00.011-04:00

I really love my school - and not just for the physical aspects of karate we learn how to do. Last night's class, for example, was all about the mental.

Sensei Joe - part amazing karateka/instructor, part web-master - brought in his video camera to film us doing self-defense techniques to post on the school's site. There were only four students in attendance, so we all got a chance to demonstrate for the camera some actual "what would I do to neutralize this bad guy?" scenarios. He had asked that our techniques not only stop the attack/attacker, but make sure his/her will and/or ability to fight was obviously stopped, too.

The first technique I demonstrated was a solid front snap kick to the gut of an attacker as he moved forward to punch. My uke - my son, "Squirrel", who is about 5'8" and 120lbs soaking wet - promptly went flying across the room from the kick. But this "Neo" (my nick-name) had a question, of course: would it really be necessary to re-acquire my adversary since I created enough distance to get away? Seriously - I wouldn't WANT to get close enough to him again to be able to throw a kick or punch since I was now far away from the threat. My instinct would have been to turn and run, but all the men in the room - Sensei Joe, Sensei S., training partner Ed and even my 17-year-old son - said that since what I'd done to stop the confrontation would only stop the attacker for a moment (in fact, my kick might only do little more than piss the dude off), he might try to re-engage. Maybe he'd catch me, maybe he wouldn't - but was that really something I wanted to chance?

That simple question lead to a 45-minute discussion about what it might actually take to get away from a crazed (or high, or drunk or extremely determined) evil-doer - and how to stop him/her if you couldn't.

My reality is that, other than scrapping it out in the dojo with my training partners, my fighting experience is pretty limited. I didn't wrestle with my brothers as a kid (I'm an only child), only jostled once on the playground in grade school (in second grade,a classmate pulled my hair, I pulled hers back and it was over) and haven't ever engaged in a bar fight or other "I'm gonna hurt you!" situation. Looking around the room, it hit me that my senseis, Ed and even my son couldn't say the same. Their practical experience with this "stick and move" stuff was much more extensive than mine and training partner K's (a first-kyu in her late 30's who has some difficulty with self-defense "just do something effective" scenarios as she came through the ranks in a school that never did any of that stuff, if you can believe that). Of course it didn't help that I had a mini flash-back to most recent real-life scenario - my time with "Angry Dad" - right in the middle of the discussion that made me an emotional mess and unable to do any more "let me choke you so you can figure out how to get out of it" scenarios for the remainder of class.

Once I made it to my gear bag and found a tissue, Sensei S. again asked us all the infamous "Why do you train?" rhetorical question before we bowed out - and for the first time ever, no answer resonated through my head. I thought I trained because I absolutely love the challenge of it all and so that seeing a punch come flying towards me won't be so foreign if it ever happens outside of the training hall, but now I'm not so sure. If self-defense really means "finish him/her before s/he finishes you" would I be able to do that? Would I even want to? Hmmm...

The art of self-defense is a multi-headed, living, breathing entity, it seems. Back to "the shed" I go...

R-E-S-P-E-C-T

2011-04-26T09:24:00.017-04:00

A very good friend and training partner told me once that because he was a bit of a bully growing up, his mom wouldn't let him study martial arts as a child. Now 40, he's forging his path by preparing to test for his 6th kyu in USA Goju, training also in Jujitsu and Muay Thai and hitting the mat or gym six days out of each week. He also thinks martial arts would have helped him a lot when he was younger, not turned him into a thug.

Soon after our dojo's last promotion in January, we noticed that one of our 9th-kyus - a seven-yr-old with severe ADHD - hadn't been to class in a while. When I called his mom to see if everything was OK, she told me that she'd decided to stop bringing him to karate because her son was beginning to use his knowledge of strikes, blocks, kicks and kata to terrorize (her words, not mine) his class- and school-mates. She thought it best to give him a little time to mature before returning to the mat.

A few weeks ago, my sensei and two of my training partners visited his instructor's dojo (it was opening night of my son's school play, so we couldn't make it). At the very next class, my dojo-mates were all aflutter about one of the new white belts in the class who was very mouthy to her instructors. She questioned why she had to do certain things instead of just doing them. My dojo-mates were as shocked by her lack of knowledge of how things should be done in the training hall as they were by the fact that not one of her dojo mates pulled her coat to tell her to tone it down or sit down until she could.

Last weekend, I was ALL OVER one of our 12-yr-old 6th kyus because he was blatantly disrespectful to one of the adult students he out-ranks. Although he is one of the highest-ranking kids in the class, he usually acts like he is doing everyone a favor when he falls in at the start of class and gives less than a half-assed effort in kihon, stance work, kata and sometimes kumite. An only child who is used to being coddled by mom (she actually helps him take off his sparring gear when she's in attendance) he just never seems to do much of anything with fervor or enthusiasm at all. The week before, when I found his belt in a tangled heap in the middle of the floor shortly before a demonstration we were about to do at a local community center (he had run off to play basketball), I stuck it in my gear bag. Training partner Ed and I discussed it and decided that he won't get it back until his attitude adjusts - which means he will be forced to line up in the back of the class for a bit. Because we've seen him step it up for grading and competitions, we know what he's capable of when he wants to put forth a little effort. Time will tell if being away from the front line for a bit will be the spark that ignites his enthusiasm.

But back to last weekend: when I called him out for being so ugly to his dojo mate, the room got pin-drop quiet as I'm not a screamer on the mat unless I'm kiai-ing during kata and my usual way to handle protocol breeches would have been to pull him to the side and reprimanded him privately. But because of the level of disrespect (he actually told an adult who reminded him not to show the bottom of his feet while sitting and waiting for his turn to present kata that because he wasn't his father, he didn't have to listen to him), it seemed like a good idea to assist him with pumping his brakes post haste. Recognizing "the look" as I prepared to speak to the 6th kyu, my 17-yr-old son adjusted his posture and stepped back to allow me room to pass. He told me later that he was actually scared for the kid, having been on the receiving end of "the look" so often (perhaps there is something to be said for the "kiai of the eyes" after all :-). And I did let the youngster have it by letting him know that the next time he parted his lips to speak to anyone in the dojo in such a manor, he'd be immediately asked to change his clothes and sit and watch the class until his mother could get there to pick him up. Next came the "But what did I do?" stuff, which I absolutely have no tolerance for at all. His aunt, who'd witnessed the situation at the demonstration, said she'd speak to mom and have her give me a call. Seriously, I'm pretty sure his mom already knows what's going on because if we're seeing that behavior in the dojo, I'm sure his teachers are seeing in school and she's probably witnessing it at home as well...

All the ads for area and distant dojos that I've ever seen talk about how discipline and respect are a few of the main benefits of karate for young people. As my 40-yr-old training partner, my seven-yr-old student's mom and my dojo-mates would probably tell you, it extends well beyond standing in yoi for what seems like an eternity, or addressing your instructor as "sir/m'am" or even rei before, during and at the end of class. They get that budo dictates both must be present not only during training, but outside of the walls of the training hall, too. But what about those you train with who don't?

For those of you who teach or train with different age groups and ranks, how do you handle disrespect in the dojo?

Be the Mosquito: Bobbing and Weaving with a Purpose

2011-04-14T09:56:00.018-04:00

Since the blogsphere today is full of stuff about sparring - including posts by Samurai Girl, Ariel at Martial Arts Passion and Mr. James at Okinawan Fighting Arts, I figured I might as well toss my two cents into the mix as well...

Although I love working/improving kata and kihon, I really love to spar. Not that I particularly like the idea of getting hit, but the matching of wits/game of tag that is ju kumite in the dojo or in the competition ring is kinda fun. Let me re-phrase that: HITTING and KICKING are fun - and I can usually do that fairly well. It's my evading and countering that always, always, always need a little work.

Tuesday night, Sensei Joe, a yondan who is an amazing tactician and who is as quick as he is powerful, led class. He challenged us to think (and move and fight) outside of our comfort zones. For me, that meant fighting more like the lightweight I am - staying on my toes for the whole fight to make moving in and out as well as changing my angles of attack possible - instead of bouncing a little before planting my feet, remaining on my adversary's centerline and fighting more like a heavyweight with long limbs when the "battle" gets going. It was harder than I thought it was going to be - mainly because the thinking that is NOT supposed to happen had to creep back in. It was the only way I could remember to stay on my toes, be mobile and let the techniques flow.

But flow, I didn't. I'd land two techniques then.just.stop - and promptly get pummeled by Sensei Joe or Sensei S - who took turns sparring us all. Suffice to say I may have gotten a few good licks in, but the reality is that when all was said and done, I had my butt handed to me over and over again.

Biggest problem? My evasions were too big. In an effort to avoid the technique my senseis threw, I moved too far out of range to counter, which meant I had to re-acquire them continuously. They had no such issues, I noticed because their evasions were much more subtle - a shoulder lean here, a hip shift there - which made their counters to the techniques I tried to hit them with much more effective. And they were doing a little more than tapping, unfortunately. Ouch...

Sensei Joe compared it to games of tag he played as a kid. "You didn't really need to run away when the person who was 'it' came charging," he said. "Sometimes it was a lot more fun to let them get really close then shift to the left so their tag brushed right past you." Then he demonstrated while first I tried then training partner, Peg, tried to simply touch his gi, shoulder or face when he was about a foot in front of us. Not only did we miss every time, he tapped us with something on his way past us - like a backfist or shuto to the head or a reverse punch or a little hook kick to the gut. It felt like we fell into his technique - or better yet: like he set us up to hit him only so we could get hit instead. In other words, not only did his techniques flow from one right into the next without pause, the "fight" wasn't over until he had the last attack - which he landed at will. He even turned away as if to run once and the next thing I felt was his foot - via a well-timed ushiro geri (back kick) in my gut. Ouch - again!

As un-ladylike as it sounds, hitting stuff is a one of the things I absolutely love about karate, but the other is the fact that there is always more to learn. What I learned from playing tag with Sensei Joe is that while bobbing and weaving are nice, throwing a technique on the way "out"/getting the last tag in is even nicer - and much more efficient. He reminded us about one of our former training partners who got so good with this that she earned the nickname "Mosquito" because she was there, attacked you, then was gone before you could even raise your hand to slap her away.

"Be the mosquito," Sensei Joe said.

Indeed...

Sport Jujitsu

2011-03-22T13:51:00.011-04:00

Like many artist on the martial path, there are loads of things that I don't know about. Sport Jujitsu is definitely one of those things, so I went to a seminar Sunday hosted by former Sport Jujitsu World Heavy Weight champion Linda Ramzy Ranson of the Women's Empowerment Self Defense Academy in the Bronx to find out about what it is and how to judge during tournaments.

According to the International Sport Jujitsu Association, Sport Jujitsu:

...consists of five major elements; Ukemi waza (break falling technique), Nage waza (throwing technique), Katame waza (grappling technique), Atemi waza (striking technique) and Katsu waza (revival technique). Therefore a competition that consists of only strikes without grappling is not true sport jujitsu because it is missing a very important element of jujitsu (grappling) which makes it more like a point karate tournament. Also a tournament which consists of only grappling and no striking cannot legitimately be called sport jujitsu because it too is missing a very important element of jujitsu. Without strikes it is only a grappling tournament or often called submission wrestling. A true sport jujitsu tournament represents the art’s totality and consists of all the physical elements.

- sort of like MMA without the ground and pound or knee/elbow strikes.

Points are awarded as follows:
1 point for a hand or foot strike to the body
2 points for a controlled kick to the head
2 points for a half throw (where one foot leaves the mat)
3 points for a full throw (both feet leave the mat)
2 points for maintaining a controlled mount for three seconds
4 points for a referee intervention submission (under-belt divisions only)
Automatic win by tap out submission (black belt divisions only)
Strikes to the nose, eyes, groin, spine or against a joint are not allowed. Neither are finger locks, head butts or leg kicks.

The competitions begin much like karate kumite where opponents start standing up and facing each other. The difference is that grappling is as much a part of the game as front kicks and reverse punches are. All the action eventually ends up on the ground. 30 seconds of grappling time is allowed once competitors get there. In the two 2-minute rounds of the competition, if the competitors don't make progress (for example, guards are stalled and no submissions seem eminent), the center judge orders them to their feet. The fight, however is constantly live. In other words, there is no reset that allows everyone time to adjust their gis and gear or get back to the center of the ring. They stand where they are and must be on guard for punches, kicks and sweeps even while returning to an upright position. Competitors are allowed a coach and get 30-second rest between each round.

This explains it better than I can:

Interestingly enough, while hand, mouth, foot and groin protection is worn, black belts do not wear head gear. And the under belts that did had their helmets pulled off during the match anyway. It is intense as all get out, but looked fun as anything. I might give it a go, you never know :-)

(Martial) Art Imitating Life

2011-03-14T10:30:00.006-04:00

Whenever a person who is brand-spanking new to martial arts comes into the dojo and we start with the basic hand and foot positions, I am the first one to encourage them to scream - loud, often and like a banshee - because their lives could someday depend on it. Especially with children, I let them know that an evil-doer trying to get them to go "away" by force wants them to remain as quiet as possible. Never let them stun you into silence because using your voice is a way of fighting back.

More often than not, that first kiai they let out is accompanied by giggles and blushes - embarrassment if you will - because they may have never done anything like it before without someone telling them to shhhh! or tone it down a little. But using your voice is so much a part of self-defense and the newbies need to know that. So I illustrate it with a nice, long and extremely loud spirit yell. Then I explain that being encouraged to scream my head off is one of my most favorite parts of karate (hitting things is the other, but I don't share that with them so early in the game :-). There's nothing wrong with expecting your scream to raise the roof and have people next door wondering what the heck the noise was all about, I tell them. That's totally the point!

Now that the confrontation I experienced last week outside the dojo ended in my being suspended from my job, I kind of just want to move on and put it all in my rear-view mirror. Yes, it was handled very badly on the part of the agency I work for and yes, although I did what I was supposed to do to avoid physical conflict, I am still the one sitting home this morning. True, I no longer have any desire to work for an agency that puts money over employee safety (when confronted about his behavior, Angry Dad threatened to take his children out of the program; to keep the income stream coming, the agency decided to move me to a before-school program location that was further away which I can't do, so I'm out until a closer spot opens up), but somehow, it just doesn't feel right to just giggle and blush. I think I have to use my voice.

This situation really transcends my personal safety; it's also about the well-being of the next employee that has to deal with the same irate morning program parent or any one who thinks yelling, cursing or blocking a path of escape is totally acceptable way to deal with life. In other words, it's not just about this woman, but about all women; not just about this person who was bullied, but about all people who are; not just about the ugliness directed at me, but about the nastiness directed at anyone. So, in addition to the police report I've filed, I'll be figuratively screaming at a few someones today - because I can and because I should. Letting this get swept under the carpet would be totally contrary to everything I try to teach my students and to what my instructors have tried to teach me. The agency may want to be reactionary by waiting until Angry Dad does something again before removing him from the program, but that doesn't mean that I have to be.

There's an adage that that says if one is not part of the solution then he/she is part of the problem. Even if I'm not successful at getting this ticking time bomb away from the next person, I definitely won't be if I don't try.

That piercing noise you hear? Yep, that'd be me...

Moment of Truth

2011-03-08T13:10:00.005-05:00

For the record I've only ever had one physical confrontation in my life (in second grade and a girl named Terry Daniels got upset with me for some reason or another; she puled my hair so hard it made me cry, so I yanked hers back, made her cry and that was the end of it). That was all before this morning.

Because my son's college tuition deposit to whichever institution of higher education he chooses will be due in four short months, I've taken a few side gigs to help squirrel away a couple of extra dollars to pad the 529 account that took a bit of a hit when the economy dipped. My morning job is a before-school program for parents whose work hours start before their children's school days do. For two hours each weekday, I play board games, draw and read to/with a few kids before their school days begins. Our time together ends when I drive them from the activity center we meet in to their bus stop.

This morning, my own son missed his school bus. Dropping him off at the high school made me 10 minutes late getting to the activity center. When I arrived, a very angry parent who almost never drops his kids off was waiting. The two kids - ages 8 and 5 - were just inside the door while dad was outside with a cell phone stuck to his ear. I pulled up to the door and waved to him before lowering my window and apologizing for being late. Before I could even tell him why, he started screaming at me, called me a bitch and told me that since he paid a lot of effin' money for the program - and hence, paid my salary - I should effin' get there on time. He then walked over to my car, stuck his finger in my driver's side window to wave it in my face and continue to berate me for jacking up his day - all while his children watched from about 10 feet away.

This past Christmas, Sensei S. bought everyone in the dojo metal kubatons. We've had a class or two on using them and since they came attached to a sturdy key ring, I keep mine on clipped to my house and car keys. After psychotic dad called me a bitch the second time, I have to tell you the thought of sliding the kubaton off my key ring and shoving it right into his windpipe most definitely crossed my mind - but instead of acting on that, I asked him if he would please move away so I could back my car into a parking space. He refused and actually moved to the back door of the vehicle, stuck his foot under my rear tire and dared me to move. Yeah - exactly...

It occurred to me that I had three choices at that point: run over his foot, get out of the car to try out an ippon combo I learned last night or chill and figure out how to get this idiot away from me as fast as possible. I put my window up, locked my car doors and reached for my phone. Calling the police was my plan, but, probably thinking I was either calling 911 or getting out of my car to move him out of the way, he motioned to his children, got in his car and drove off. I was so upset, I was literally shaking.

After I calmed down and called my boss to let her know what happened, I contacted Sensei S. and told him that I almost had to make use of his Christmas gift today. Once he assured me that I did the right thing by avoiding a conflict, he reminded me that yoking an unarmed (albeit angry) man with a weapon would probably net a legal issue. Like me, dad had choices - and he chose to walk away. Had he taken a different route, I would have been prepared, Sensei said, to defend myself.

The adage that there is no "first strike" in karate rings in my head now and I know Sensei is right, but I hafta tell you that I felt very vulnerable sitting there waiting for him to either stop the foolishness or make a definitive move. I did feel threatened, but there wasn't really anything I could do about it.

But there's something else I felt, too: how easy it is for a "situation" to spiral out of control. Everything happened so fast! If he would have reached into the car to grab, hit or even spit on me, I would have had a reason to do something. But because he didn't, I couldn't.

A non-martial artist friend commended me on taking what he called the high road. "You're a better person than I am, because I would have hit him as soon as he stuck his body too close to mine," he said. I'd probably be explaining all this at the town police station right now if I'd done that, I bet. The reality is that I had no control over how the angry person would act. I guess all I an ever do have control over is how I react to it.

What would you have done?

Kata: Best/Worst of Times

2011-03-04T15:45:00.004-05:00

I try to do the kata flow drill every morning. Some days, it's as effortless as breathing. Other days, It.Just.Isn't. But I do it anyway - and most mornings, I enjoy it. Yesterday morning's kata flow ended on a high note - a "best of" time. Unfortunately, the day before was an absolute mess.

I admit that I don't always "see the opponent" when I'm doing the drill. The purpose of the flow drill is to NOT worry about cadence or tenacity and just do the form at one tempo without emphasis on the power/speed of any particular strike, kick or block. Trouble is that when it's time to present the kata in real time, I sometimes forget to put that cadence and tenacity back in there. Oops...

Lately, Tuesday nights have been dubbed "Thinking Nights" at my dojo. After we get our warmup sweat on, Sensei picks a kata or two for us to tear apart. Bunkai, strike/block placement and even little things like where your body needs to be in order to end where you started are discussed. There are always A-Ha! moments to be discovered. Next, we present a kata of our choice to the class - a formal presentation - just like we would before judges at a tournament.

Lately, I've tried hard to stay away from the katas we dissected when it's been my turn to present, because I know need a little time to practice and refine it lest the "other way" creep in. And lately, I've flubbed every single presentation. I'm talking forgetting opening moves, losing my balance, ending no where near where I began - the whole nine. I'm not sure if having the group critique after the presentation or if knowing that Sensei S and Sensei J are watching with the visual equivalent of a fine-tooth comb that's giving me performance anxiety, but clearly SOMETHING is. This week, I butchered Empi Ha, a kata I learned about three years ago as a second kyu. It was clearly a "worst of" time for me and my form.

Perhaps I'm taking the idea of emptying my cup - or emptying my mind, even - too literally. It's like the template that has all the instructions switches itself off right when I need it most. And no, I do not have this issue when I am competing. Still trying to figure out why the circuits get so log-jammed when I'm amongst friends but not when I'm doing the same thing in front of total strangers.

During my track and field days, I'd occasionally have the same issue. There were some days I couldn't get off the ground with anything resembling technique to save my life - especially if we jumped for height in the same way a competition progressed. My coach used to call it "Non-Performance Anxiety" - meaning that because I wasn't in uniform, wasn't jumping against a field of other competitors and didn't have the total adrenaline rush that always came on the day of a big competition, my mind knew it wasn't "real" and acted accordingly. To get over that, he'd sometimes have me practice in my uniform or go through my warm-up routine the same way I would on competition day. It helped. But there isn't really a karate equivalent for that - as I'm always in uniform (gi) and on any given day, either/both Sensei S and Sensei J could be my judges in competition.

I was talking it over with one of my training partners and I clearly recall saying that the walk from the wall where everyone sat to the center of the room to present the kata was like "going through hell." Her response? "Well, they say when you are going through hell, you should just keep going."

"'The best 'gains' are made when there is no flow. 'Ughs' help us refine and improve," another martial artist told me. "Keep on kata-ing."

Advice I plan on taking. I'm glad they offered :-)

Getting by with a little help from my friends...

Miles to Go...

2011-02-20T13:31:00.005-05:00

Yesterday we packed up the vehicles and headed down to NYC for a free tournament. Yep, you read that correctly - a FREE tournament. Over 450 competitors (compared to the 300 or so that attended last year), so training partner Ed and I thought it would be an inexpensive way for our students to get some kata presentation and kumite experience in.

Going in, we told them all that although trophies and accolades are nice, they weren't the goal of competing. It takes a lot of courage to step into the ring - as anyone who's ever done it before can tell you - so as long as they did their absolute best and kept their chi and fighting spirits high, all would be good. They did that and more.

With so many rings, it was hard to keep track of everyone, but they competed well. They stepped in, did their thing and learned a lot in the process, which is a very good thing. Two of our girls - both 14-yr-old 7th kyus - took home first and third places in kumite (which was good as they didn't have to spar each other) and a second place in kata. Both of them got shiners from the same competitor, but they didn't grumble or complain when the young lady's hit was not given a warning as it should have. Way to fight like girls, ladies!

Still, with all those competitors, there were only two of us competing in kata in the "old lady" division (female black belts 35 and over) - myself and training partner, Peg. An amazing karateka, she, like me, started karate at an age when most are toning down their physical pursuits. Extremely talented, she trains hard - and it shows in everything she does on the mat. I admire her a great deal, so, it was kinda tough to get my head set to compete against her. But I followed her Empi Ha with Senchin and, much to my surprise, we tied - although her scores were more consistent than mine (the one judge that gave me a 7 was the one that saw me hit myself in the lip on the opening move because he was the one I was facing; the other 2 gave me 9s). Once the low and high scores were dropped, I won by a mere half point. I felt like a fraud.

Honestly, Peg's kata was better than mine yesterday. I was nervous and, because I'd spent most of the day sitting down judging the underbelts, I hadn't warmed up nearly as well as I wanted to/usually do, so my footwork felt a teeny bit off. I don't feel I was the better competitor that day and was very embarrassed by the four-foot trophy they presented me with. I swear, I really wanted to just disappear under the floor, I really did.

But because I won, I was allowed to compete in the kata grand championship against the winners in the other three black belt divisions. I knew I had the least experience going in and stood almost no chance of winning, but I did it anyway. And, to challenge myself even more, I did a kata I'd never done in competition before: Hangetsu, which I usually reserve as a back-up in the event of a tie. I felt too big and too conspicuous with my 6'2" self in that ring, the lone Amazon in the black gi. It didn't go terribly, but it wasn't my best presentation, either. Truthfully, I felt a little embarrassed when it was all over because it wasn't as good as the others.

But you know what? That's sooo not the point of karate for me. I train to gain knowledge and improve over MY best, not everyone else's. Sure some days are better than others, but that's life sometimes. It just reminds me that there are more than a few miles to go yet on this path - and as many bumps and hurdles to overcome in the process. But it's the journey, not the destination that is important, and I've got nothing but time.

So why compete in the first place? Truthfully, I really only wanted to spar - because it is as close as I ever hope to come to a real, live "put up your dukes" combat situation. Kata competition for me is about learning to recognize and practice the art of my martial art. The grace is not something that is innate to me, so I take competition as an opportunity to push my learning envelope a little. Plus it's fun and I enjoy it.

And getting a good smack down every now and again keeps the ego in check, I think - and I am one very humble creature this morning, that's for sure.

Too Much Information

2011-02-08T08:10:00.013-05:00

OK - pet peeve time. For me, it's sloppy gis during training. I'm not talking about the gi jacket that gets disheveled after you're tossed across the floor like a rag doll, but untucked shirts that dangle below gi tops and belts that are gapped or twisted in the back way before the warmup even begins bother me to no end. But you know what gets me the most? Undergarments that peek out between the splits in traditional-tie bottoms. Ack!!

It seems a shame to step on the mat with trimmed nails and a freshly washed gi only to have your underwear announce to the world that they are ready to work well before you've even produced a bead of sweat. Sorry, but that is totally gross. Cover that up already!

Seriously, if someone else can see the waist band of your BVDs or knows what color thong you have on, that's definitely TMI. There's a reason it's called UNDERwear.

Granted, some folks might not know their...ummm...business is "in the streets" - so if you have a training partner who's flashing a little more than their devistating technique in class and you don't wish to embarrass him or her, point them a pair of shorts, a needle and thread or any MA website that sells elastic-waist or slit-less drawstring gi pants. Friends don't let friends train with their undies showing, IMHO.

OK - rant over. Thanks for indulging me...

"E Squad" Adventures

2011-02-06T12:25:00.012-05:00

There are six women in my dojo. Two are busy with school and aren't actively training right now, so it isn't often that we out-number the men on a given evening. Last Thursday night's class - when only the four females gi'd up to train - was a rare exception.

Sensei S, the only male in the building, started us off by moving the class into the mat room to work on break falls and rolls. You'd think with three shodans and an ikkyu, we'd have been talking about things like the importance of protecting the head or where to look during the roll. Instead, we questioned whether our female hips were actually going to go where we wanted them to as effortlessly as Sensei's did when he demonstrated what we'd be working on. It's obvious that we women are built differently than the men we train with, but with only "us girls" in the room (Sensei was out-estrogened, hee-hee), we could discuss with each other on the sidelines what we usually say to ourselves in the privacy of our own heads. And on occasion, those conversations were overheard by whomever was on the mat working the technique with Sensei, making her dissolve into a giggling puddle. Not that our all estrogen class was any less structured or formal than normal, but every now and again, one of us would relax too much while being guided into a throw/roll or launch ourselves too high to get some assisting momentum behind us and end up plopping loudly onto the mat. And no explanation was necessary because the rest of us understood what that momentary "This is gonna be difficult because my butt is just too big" pause was about.

This post is not a plug for an all-girl training environment - although I've often wondered what receiving instruction from and learning with nothing but women would be like. I rather like training with the "Y" chromosome set because they push me when sparring and challenge me to think on my feet. But sometimes, it's OK to hang out with the girls, though. There's something unique about that unspoken understanding when your training partner has a mental block and can't even attempt a technique because of a simple fear of how or where she'll land. No one assumes she's weak or that her reaction is indicative of how all women will react in a similar situation. We know that it is her "something" without having to discuss it or explain it at all - because everybody's got theirs. It is what it is.

In the aikido class I started training in about a month ago, I've been present a few times when Sensei M. has led the class. A fourth dan with a booming voice and a curly ponytail that whips around when she's giving instruction or being tossed around during the training sessions, I met her when I surprised her in the changing room before my first class. Use to being the only woman in the place, knocking before entering the ladies area wasn't something she was accustomed to doing, she said. We both got quite a kick out of that.

In karate, I occasionally train with another Sensei M. Busy competing internationally and teaching Krav Maga as well as USA Goju, she thoroughly kicks our butts cardio-vascularly during class. She's an amazing practitioner and instructor who is always willing to pass along what she's learned to others. But still I remember a fourth dan spar her once like she stole his wallet when she was only a nidan - all because she swept him to the ground while sparring the week before. He hit her so hard that he knocked out her contact lens, which I remember crawling around on the floor trying to find with her after class. Ugly, ego-driven and unnecessary, it was what it was - and I won't train anywhere near that yondan today as a result. I can't see that happening with other women, though. Not that it couldn't, just probably wouldn't.

Three cheers for the E Squad :-)

On the Road Again: Harlem Goju Association Seminar

2011-02-02T14:34:00.007-05:00

Yep - we hit the road again a few weeks ago, loading up the van and heading to the Harlem Goju Association Seminar. A requirement for all Harlem Goju karateka, Grand Master Sam McGee invited training partner Ed and I along with our students to join in as well - and we graciously accepted. Our new promotees did workshops on controlled falls, kata and bo. They also got to watch some amazing practitioners present open-hand and bo kata. It's good to get out of your own dojo every now and again for something other than a tournament, I think. Judging by the smiles, I can assume our students shared that sentiment.

Uphill Climb

2011-01-18T16:42:00.010-05:00

Last week, I went to a workshop on engaging area youth. It was sponsored by a local agency that hosts after-school programs all over the school district. The facilitator was awesome - excellent ideas, very engaging and energetic - but sadly, the group he was there to engage - youth workers and teachers who work the after-school homework and activity programs - was none of that. Some of the folks there boasted of many years of actual classroom teaching experience, but used the same breath to detail how horrible this kid or that kid was in their program. Too many of the attendees sat with their arms folded across their chests and "I've tried that and it didn't work!" scowls across their brows. Their lethargy was hard to watch.

My group's discussion about activities that could help re-engage kids who have fallen between the cracks deteriorated into a chat about where to buy the cheapest car tires in the area while three of our group members began their own conversation about who knows what. And, yes, I did try to corral the group back to focus on the task at hand, but the side conversation and tire talk drowned me out.

What does this have to do with karate, you ask? The lessons gleaned from training in the martial arts go a long way in answering that question. For example:

1. Discipline is the absolute cornerstone of learning anything new - and it all begins with self-discipline. It doesn't have to be whip-cracking, ruler-smacking hard, but without it, it's pretty difficult to go forward. Master yourself and another master is hard to find.

2. Nothing worthwhile comes easy - and little sweat ain't never killed anybody.

3. The hardest part of any class is usually getting there. Once you're there, you might as well apply the best effort you can so your trip wasn't for nothing.

Of course teaching is a tough job. When the total number of hours spent preparing lessons and grading papers, tests and projects is factored in, teachers in most public school systems don't get paid nearly enough. And I get that it must be rough to not immediately see the fruits of such hard labor blossom and ripen, I really do. That the host district has a high economically disenfranchised, single-parent household population often (but not always) makes miniscule parental involvement the norm, which has to be frustrating as all get out. It sucks. But it is what it is.

Most of the folks I give instruction to in the dojo are children, still the above wasn't really written for them or the students in the after-school programs - but for the people who teach them. If you set high expectations for those who train with and under you, they will have high expectations of themselves. Whether teaching a static kick or a spinning one, how to balance a chemical equation or write an essay outline, if someone thinks they can do it or if they think that they can't, they're probably right. Giving instruction is about getting those we instruct to think they can.

So don't give up just yet. Keep trying - because you only fail when you stop.

Tying It All Together

2011-01-16T12:13:00.009-05:00

I'm a writer, editor and journalism instructor, so I make a living via the written word - whether I'm stringing a few of them together for an article, cutting some of them out of someone else's article or showing others how to put them together more effectively in the classroom. Words inspire me.

I started a new blog a few weeks ago - mainly as a place to put some of the sayings I stumble across every now and again. I try to post a quote every day in hopes that it will inspire others, too.

This was yesterday's entry from The Talmud: "Who is wise? One who learns from all." Turns out it was absolutely perfect for yesterday, because it was the day my training partner, Ed, and I oversaw our first grading at the Salvation Army (where we've been hosting free karate classes since May). Here are some of our students preparing to present:

A good day was had by all 18 of the kyus that graded. My senseis, several of my training partners and a few other senseis we've trained with over the years were all on hand to help us empty the cups of the graders and keep things moving along smoothly.

Once all the certificates, new belts and stripes were handed out, Sensei D. told our students that they all look like they are solidly on their way down their own paths - provided they keep working hard. "You are a direct reflection of your instructors," he added. "You made them look very good today." Always one to give credit where credit is due, Ed immediately pointed to the black belts and said something that brought it all home: "You also made THEM look good, because we learned from them. We give to you what they've given and continue to give us."

And he's right. Guess that makes him humble and wise :-).

2010: The Year in Review

2010-12-31T14:28:00.006-05:00

Seems like we were just toasting in 2010 and it's almost gone. Where does the time go?

But what a year it was. Between the old-to-new school chaos and broken bones, there were lessons gleaned about learning techniques on the fly, getting them to flow, ground fighting, avoiding confrontation and appropriate resistance. I had some pretty good discussions with myself here about violence against women, facing an adversary in "girl" shoes and refining the reflexes, as well. Thanks to all of you who posted responses for stopping by!

I've also waxed poetic about my loyal dog, K, tackling a new art, the find of the century :-), my favorite martial arts quotes and my reasons for stepping on the mat in the first place. Hope I haven't bored you to tears with my ramblings...

Saw some neat things, too, including a shodan grading in NYC, Bill "Superfoot" Wallace in Atlantic City a fellow blogger grade for her black belt in Japan (whoo-hoo!).

2010 was spectacular - and here's to an even better 2011! Happy New Year :-)

Up in the Club

2010-12-26T18:10:00.006-05:00

Unlike in the picture, clubs tend to be kinda dark spots. Because they also serve alcohol, the potential for bad stuff to go down is there, for sure.

Perhaps sick of hearing me harp about learning to kick in shoes or throw other techniques in "regular clothes," Sensei S told us to not even change into our gis for class a few weeks ago. He lined up some chairs from the hallway, turned off all but the disco ball/strobe light in the studio used during kickboxing class and had us sit down. "What would you do if you were here and someone made unwanted advances?" he asked. When trapped between the wall and the "offender" (which was Sensei S - and the only way "out" was through him), we all had different solutions for getting away safely - from using very dramatic physical force to the more subtle "Could you please remove your hand from my thigh?" non-confrontational approach. It was very enlightening and had us all talking about appropriate resistance for the rest of the evening.

What would YOU do to ward off unwanted advances in a dark bar or dance hall?

Rolling With the Punches: Blending With Aikido

2010-12-15T16:14:00.013-05:00

With so much going on in my non-karate world (final exams and papers to grade, college applications for my son, a very sick grandmother, the holidays, finances resulting from the pending holidays - you get the drift), I decided to take a little time away from the dojo to just clear my head and re-vamp. I've literally been on the mat almost non-stop since November of 2004 - save for six weeks in 2007 after breast reconstructive surgery - and I think both my mind and body needed a bit of a break. Karate was on the fast-track to becoming SOMETHING ELSE that had to get done in a day and my ancillary training away from the dojo was looking more and more like "going through the motions" which wasn't good. I told my sensei that I think I needed to miss it for a little bit in order to step back into it with the intensity it deserved.

To save the dojo fee for December, my last class was on November 29. That was also the day I found out I would not be grading for nidan in the spring with my training partners. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't disappointed, but I wasn't surprised at all. Still playing catch-up from my years spent gleaning elsewhere. My arsenal is still missing a few things, for sure. As a result, I've been thinking about training in another art - like aikido, MMA or even Krav Maga for a minute. Which one, though, is the issue...

Anyway, in trying to avoid the pile of papers I know I need to grade, I stopped by training partner Ed's place yesterday afternoon. He has begun taking aikido classes and told me that he'd already talked to his sensei about a two-week free trial for me. Ed knows where my head is regarding training and thought the "something new" might be good for me. (His real motive, I found out, is getting me to fall and roll a bit better so he can toss me around the dojo when we train together, but that's another story.) This morning's 10AM class was my first formal non-USA Goju martial arts class ever, save for a few Kung Fu and Judo training sessions during summer martial arts seminars.

Since all my regular gis are black, Ed lent me one of his white ones to wear, complete with all his school patches. I strapped on my white belt and was promptly questioned by the senseis when I stepped out of the changing room and they saw the patches their regular students had to earn the right to sew on their gis (via grading). Here I was trying NOT to be disrespectful and I end up being disrespectful anyway by default. Sigh...

After a brief warm-up, Ed was sent to work with his classmates and I got to work with Sensei W., whom Ed had warned me was a talented instructor but a stickler for detail. Since falling comes with the territory in aikido, I couldn't really do anything until I learned how to fall and roll properly. We worked front, rear and side falls and front rolls for almost a hour. Always, my feet were too close together, my hands were too far apart or I just didn't keep my body rigid enough after landing. My quads and triceps were literally shaking from squatting down to fall or roll, pushing up to a standing position then repeating over and over. It wasn't too physically challenging - meaning I wasn't out of breath or sweating buckets - but it was very different from my norm.

Next we moved to wrist and jacket grab escapes. After about 10 tries with me being the uke/attacker, my wrists were begging for mercy. In fact, I don't think I ever tapped out so fast or so hard before. Funny thing was that everyone - even the brown belts tossing each other - and yellow belt Ed - around the room were hollering as they slapped the mat when a wrist lock just got to be a little too painful. It was kind of melodic, actually...

Finally, Sensei W. took me back through a review of everything we'd covered. My front fall actually improved a tad while my front roll deteriorated. Guess I have some homework to do.

There is something about being a white belt again that is both intriguing and intimidating. Because the belt tells the world that you are a newbie, expectations aren't really high for your ability to do a specific technique right out of the box. You are expected to stumble, struggle a little and make mistakes, which is kind of neat in a way. But it can be intimidating, too, if you're used to being able to control your body and have it do what you tell it to do. It's like being able to do the latest hip-hop dance to the nines and going to a ballroom dancing competition to show it off. The music is different and you're out of your element.

It's also easy to forget that the instructor showing you the techniques with such grace and fluidity has been practicing them for ages, which is why they look so smooth and effortless. Plus some of my karate footwork kept creeping in. Sensei W. had to keep reminding me to keep both feet pointing forward, not towards each other like in sanchin - a simple concept that was really hard to do. More homework, it seems...

But save for a few rug burns on my knees, elbows and shoulders, I'm none the worse for wear. I had a blast and learned a lot, which was the point, really. I'm probably going to give it another whirl Friday morning - right after my grades are posted. Wish me luck with both!

My Heels and I

2010-12-03T10:41:00.013-05:00

I recently got the following email:

"This might sound serious, but I have been sent a slightly silly question and want to do my best to answer it. The question is: If you were wearing high-heeled, pointy-toe boots, would they be a help or hinderance in defending yourself?"

I've struggled with this question lots. As a matter of fact, since the cold weather has once again hit the northeastern U.S., it has become my dilemma each time I am about to step out the door for my journalism classes and have to decide what to put on my feet. My running shoes would work best, of course, but that doesn't really speak "professionalism" in the land of academia. So I zip up those ankle or to-the-knee boots and question that decision all the way from my car as my boots click-click-click across the campus cobblestones. Since the first rule of self-defense is awareness, I'm aware of how difficult a time I might have moving around in those boots if a "situation" went down or if I actually had to run away. And with the second rule of self-defense being avoidance, that I've spent a whole lot more years running around an oval than learning self-defense combinations would probably make trying to get the heck out of Dodge quickly my first inclination. Any kind of heel - for clumsy me, anyway - would most likely prevent me from doing that very effectively.

So, yeah, my first impulse was to answer the email question with hinderance - with a capital "H."

With that being said though, I do know that being aware and trying to avoid won't necessarily keep you out of harm's way. Crazy happens to good people all the time, whether by happenstance, poor planning or missed warning signals. Maybe the question the emailer really wanted an answer to was "How could you use those boots if you're already aware that trouble is eminent and avoidance isn't a real possibility?"

In that case, those shoes might totally help you do whatever it is you'd have to do.

Every self-defense seminar I've ever sat in on has been consistent with one message: much of the stuff you already do/have at the ready can be your best weapons if you need them to be - like your house and car keys carried in your hand instead of in the bottom of your pocket or purse, or the little voice in your head insisting that something isn't quite right, or even the knowledge that the pointy parts of your elbows (or boots!) shoved into any soft spot on an attacker (inner thigh, calf, gonads - you get the point - and the pun is most certainly intended) could net enough incapacitation for you to get away. Just remember to make some noise while you're doing your thing, as doing what you have to do is not the time to be dainty and lady-like. If you have to take off that boot and pound someone with it, well...

The reality is that when the crazy begins, there are no rules.

Grace, Power, Beauty, Strength

2010-11-18T14:23:00.008-05:00

My son - aka "Squirrel" - is a senior in high school. As application deadlines will be here before you know it, we've visited five colleges in the last month and a half. Yesterday, we visited the school that is number one on his list.

He's thinking of majoring in performing arts and is looking for a school with a program that integrates drama and dance. While touring the school's dance conservatory yesterday, we ran into Ashley, a dancer in her last year at the school who invited us to watch a rehearsal for an upcoming performance of "The Nutcracker Suite." What she didn't tell us was that she was one of the principle dancers.

Once she slid into her pointe shoes and began her warmup on stage, Ashley transformed from a quiet, gangly college kid in sweats and a headband to an amazingly bold and very talented dancer. It's been a long time since my weekly grade-school tap and ballet lessons - so my reference for the names of specific techniques was way off - but as my son began whispering them in my ear, I started relating them to something a whole lot more current for me: karate techniques.

Sure there are differences, but it's amazing how similar dance and karate really are. Ashley's beautiful kicks were really high and done with pointed toes and arms that were far away from each other, but her shoulders were always over her hips and she always landed with balanced precision - even when both feet left the ground. Her movements were very graceful but extremely powerful at the same time, making her fluid transitions from one corner of the stage to another look effortless and almost simple - which told a lot about how much time she'd put into training and perfecting her movements. When the music stopped and the dance was complete, she and the other dancers either sat down immediately or leaned over with their hands on their knees, breathing hard and sweating as if they'd just gotten off the gym treadmill. You can tell they left everything on that stage each time they went through the dance. It so reminded me of watching the best karateka go through kihon drills, move around a ring during kumite or across the floor while presenting kata - because after they rested and talked over the parts that needed to be ironed out and improved, they got up and did the whole thing over again - with the same intensity and feeling. Of course the graceful and beautiful lines were there, too. Each time. Just like it should be in the martial arts training hall.

My senseis always tell us that how we practice/train in the dojo will be exactly how it will be done outside of the dojo, if ever needed. Although I hear them each time they say it, the Purchase College Conservatory of Dance students rehearsing yesterday really hammered that home for me.

Domo arigato goziamasu, Ashley :-)

What Was YOUR Black Belt Test Like?

2010-11-12T14:39:00.008-05:00

Do you remember all the things you did to prepare for your black belt test? If you have a few minutes to share, fellow blogger, SueC, is compiling a list of tips for the karateka in her organization preparing for their grading and needs your help.

How did you prepare? Is there anything you wish someone would have told you but didn't about the preparation and the actual grading itself? What would you tell someone who is about to grade for black belt if you could?

Here's your chance. Read SueC's most recent post and share your thoughts if you can.

On the Road Again: Tournaments and Tradition

2010-11-09T13:06:00.013-05:00

Much of my Saturday was spent in a van full of kids, driving up the New York State Thruway for a martial arts tournament upstate. Because it was the first tourney I'd competed in as a black belt a year ago and because it had relatively small competition groups and was well-run, my training partner (Ed) and I thought it would also be a good first tournament for the young white belts we've been training at our local Salvation Army since May. A good time was had by all the karateka as well as their parents, as none of them had ever been to or competed in a tournament before. They all did very well and learned a great deal, which was a very good thing.

But there was a little weirdness during the day. Since the tourney directors required that all competing black belts - regardless of age and/or experience - judge under-belt kata, weapons and kumite rounds, we saw both the absolute best and worst judging ever. Some of it was blatant - judges voting for their dojo-mates simply because they were dojo-mates and even black belts who seemed totally unfamiliar with any style other than their own. Some of the black belts weren't even in their teens yet and it was obvious that judging of was something they hadn't done much of at all.

Because it wasn't billed as a traditional or single-style competition, many different styles were represented. But no matter how solid the techniques and fluid the Okinawan forms were, they lost almost every time they went head-to-head against 25+ step forms from other systems that had jumping kicks and shoulder rolls.

It sometimes feels like martial artists who study Okinawan/Japanese systems are at a bit of a disadvantage in mixed-style kata competition. Rarely flashy with high kicks, single-leg, leaping or spinning techniques, our kata tend to have intricate hand movements but are often much shorter than other systems' forms. I guess if you're used to seeing forms with a million steps that move all over the floor, when a karateka presents a kata like Seiyunchin - which has absolutely no kicks - it might look like something is missing, As I presented Senchin, the USA Goju version of the kata this weekend, this was my reality as well.

A Kyokushin sensei commented on my kata after the trophy was presented (I finished second to a martial artist whose kata had the obligatory shoulder roll and a couple of leaping front kicks). He assured me that my kata was solid and that my hand techniques were done as the kata prescribes. I admit that it was nice to hear, but I still kinda felt like I showed up to a black-tie event in my shimmery best but without the tiara everyone else wore. But that's what traditional Okinawan kata is about. And I think it's beautiful.

Ed won his kata division with Hangetsu, but opted not to even enter the kata grand championship because he said he knew he'd probably have a difficult time winning against what he called the "flash and awe school of kata."

Are we just too cynical or just more traditionalist than we realized?

Refining the Reflexes

2010-11-02T17:37:00.007-04:00

My sensei has given everyone in the dojo a nickname and my son's is "Squirrel" - because he is very jumpy when someone is throwing a technique at him. I mean, VERY jumpy...

But I've noticed that I'm not "jumpy" at all in the dojo, which isn't necessarily a good thing. Like when class is done and we're just sort of standing around chatting before we grab our gear bags and head back into the real world, I've been "sneaked up on" from behind and have hardly reacted at all. Not an empi, not a parry, not a chamber in prep for a strike - nothing. I just kinda turn and smile, not in fight or flight mode at all. Perhaps it's just that I feel safe in the training hall - in that I know no one there is trying to hurt me ever - but maybe that's not such a good thing, either, because how I commit it to muscle memory will be how it will be done if I ever need to use it, right?

An example: since Fall is here, it's now dark as I head to my evening classes on the college campus where I teach. Last night, I really tried to make myself aware of my surroundings, aiming to kinda "feel" folks moving around near the corners of buildings or in the vestibules that aren't too well lit. Too many times, I didn't notice someone was in my immediate vicinity until they were almost close enough to reach out and touch or grab me - especially when they approached me from behind, like the young woman on her bike who rode up on my left and crossed in front of me to get to the bike rack. Didn't even realize she was there until she was almost right next to me. Not good. I don't know how to train to make it better.

Not that I want to whip around and yell like a crazy person when I'm approached, but some awareness would be nice. I'm stumped, though. Any suggestions?

My nickname, by the way, is "Neo" - as in the questioning fella in "The Matrix." Hmmm...

Karate Training: The Introspective Approach

2010-10-21T11:08:00.013-04:00

Last week when rei was done, the class stood in yoi waiting to be officially dismissed when Sensei told us to close our eyes. "I want to ask you a rhetorical question - and I want you to think about it," he said. "Why do you train?"

The first time someone asked me that question, I hemmed and hawed before eventually articulating some half-baked thought about what a good workout it was. But truthfully, it has always been much more than that.

Most of you know that karate began for me smack in the middle of radiation treatments for breast cancer. What got me onto the mat then was the need to do something other than work, go for treatment and study my graduate school lessons. Then, the actual hitting of pads (and sometimes people) helped me feel like I had at least some control over a body that had totally betrayed me - and that betrayal pissed me off to no end as I'd been a competitive athlete since I was a freshman in high school, I didn't eat red meat, I watched my fat intake and still my cells somehow decided to mutate. All that made me really, really want to hit something and scream as loudly as I possibly could. So eventually, my explanation of what karate meant to me included the "It's cheaper - and a whole lot more fun - than therapy!" line I still use today.

I had some physical problems as a result of radiation and surgery, including mobility and chording issues, but I consider myself lucky because I know too many breast cancer survivors whose treatments resulted in lymphedema and/or frozen shoulders. Knowing what I know now about how those things develop, I'm convinced that had I not thrown myself into such a physical activity as karate (which also led me back to the gym for regular weight lifting and running so I could be fit enough to train the way I wanted to), I might have had those difficulties, as well.

But back to Sensei's question: Why do I train - NOW?

Fellow blogger Sue C tackled the same question in her recent post about self-defense training. And I'll ask you here what she asked you there and my sensei asked us the other night: Why do you train?

For me, the answer is simple: I train because I can.

Quotations, Quotations, Quotations

2010-10-08T16:14:00.013-04:00

For whatever reason, most writers tend to have lots of reference books laying around and I'm certainly no exception. On my book shelves are a very dog-eared AP Stylebook, actual print copies of a dictionary and thesaurus (I know, right?!?) and several quotation dictionaries - including one with inspirational entries for African-Americans, authors, women and athletes.

If I were to edit one for martial artists, it would definitely have sayings I've heard over the years from my senseis and fellow karateka in it, like:

"The three rules of this and every Goju Dojo are: Everyone works. Nothing is free. All start at the bottom."
- every USA Goju sensei I've ever trained with

"It's karate, not knitting, so expect there to be some contact."
- Sensei Maloney

"Nobody gets hurt in my dojo. Understand?"
- Sensei Maloney

"Avoid before block. Block before maim. Maim before kill - for all life is precious."
- Sensei Rinaldi

"Kata is the art of martial arts. Kata is MOTION plus EMOTION."
- Sensei Fiore

"There are two types of Black Belts: those who HAVE one and those who ARE one."
- Sensei Dammann

"The most powerful techniques are delivered when the body is relaxed."
- Sensei Suggs

"I tell my students that when someone who knows absolutely nothing about the martial arts watches you execute kata, he or she should see two things. First, you are in a real fight, not just dancing - and that should be evident. Second, you are winning."
- Sensei R. Murphy

"It is better to have one sharp weapon than many dull ones."
- Sensei Fiore

"Not every technique will work for every BODY in EVERY situation."
- Kyoshi Williams

"Whether you think you can or you think you can't, you're probably right."
- Sensei Suggs

"Do the best you can with what you've got."
- Sensei Sullivan

"Hold your tongue for a moment and avoid 100 years of sorrow."
- Sensei Suggs

"I always view the ring in tournament as MY ring. In my head, I think my opponent has absolutely no right to be in MY ring. And I fight accordingly."
- Sensei Ansah

"A ship docked in a harbor is safe, but alas, that is not what ships were meant to do."
- Sensei Suggs

"What do we do pushups for, class?"
"Punching power, sir!"
"And WHY do we do pushups?"
"Because they're FUN, sir!"
- Sensei Sullivan

"Martial artists are strange people. We train for hours at a time on something that we hope we never have to actually use."
- Sensei E. Williams

"Better to be safe than sorry is what we practice and preach at [our] dojo."
- Sensei E. DelDuca

"We are the same but different; different but much the same."
-Nakamura Sensei (on the differences between Goju-Ryu karate and USA Goju)

"Don't ever forget to use your hips."
- Sensei Maloney

"Master yourself and another master will be hard to find."
- Sensei Suggs

"[The student/teacher relationship] is like a finger pointing at a beautiful sunset. The teacher is the finger - not the beautiful sun. The sunset is the principle and that is what the student should try and see. To only look at the finger means the student will miss the best part."
- Grand Master Kim Soo

"Marital arts is to the dojo like faith is to the church. If you have faith and your pastor is not giving you the food you need, find a new church, but keep the faith. If your dojo is not feeding but you still have the martial art desire to learn, find a new dojo that feeds you and allows you to continue growing. It's not about the dojo or the sensei, it is about the student and the learning."
- Mudansha Griffin

"The single most fascinating thing to me about the martial arts is that no matter how long you train, there's always more to learn. It's never ending."
- Mudansha Miench

"Karate ni sente nashi (In karate, there is no first strike)."
- Gichin Funakoshi

"That's it, in a nutshell."
- Chrissette Michelle (a singer/songwriter - but it summed up everything very nicely, I think :-)

What would you add?

Kata "Flow" Drill

2010-09-28T15:40:00.008-04:00

Thankfully, I've been fortunate enough to have trained with some truly amazing martial artists and instructors. One of the third dans I train with on occasion will soon represent the U.S. in a tournament in Portugal where she'll be doing both bo and empty-hand kata. In fine-tuning her presentation, she's been working with others who have been helping her smooth out her footwork, transitions, cadence and timing. In turn, she's passed the drills she's gotten from them onto us.

One of the drills that I like working is the kata "flow" drill. To smooth out transitions from, say, hard to soft, she was instructed to go through her kata at one speed a minimum of 10 times a day. All the movements were relatively soft and without dynamic tension or cadence changes. She got to pick the speed, but it had to be consistent throughout - no speeding up or slowing down allowed. Although she said she hated it at first and had a hard time erasing the speed an ferocity of Seipai as she'd learned it, eventually she forgot to think about what move came next and how hard or soft it had to be. And when her brain shut off and her body just moved, she had an easier time working the subtleties like foot placement in shiko dachi (horse stance) and hand positions.

In other words, when she stopped thinking and started doing, her kata began to flow.

As I have a tournament of my own coming up in November, I thought I'd give working it for the long haul a try as she's doing in preparation for competition. For the past two weeks, I've been flowing Senchin - Peter Urban's USA Goju version of Seiyuchin - every morning. What I've found is that without the abrupt changes in tempo the kata calls for, I've had cerebral epiphanies regarding my angles, head movement, stances and the efficiency of my hand positions. In other words, the rush to get from here to there is gone and instead I find myself thinking of the best ways to move so there's no wasted motion. For example, I've always had difficulties lining up my rear foot correctly when doing a neko ashi dachi (cat stance), but suddenly I'm nailing all of the three done in this kata - including the one the form ends with - without a lot of "oh no - here it comes!" thought and effort. It was a full month before the third dan who taught me this drill was allowed to do her kata full-speed - and like her, I haven't done my kata full speed yet, either. I'm excited to see what it will become when I put the cadence back together!

It's really an very cool tool that can also be used to iron out problem spots in a kata. To do that, you'd flow the part of the form that gives you grief. Vary the speed so that a few times it's done relatively quickly and a few more super slowly. Even cooler is that it only takes about 15 minutes or so a day.

If you're feeling adventurous, give it a try for a bit and let me know how it works for you.

Make Some Noise!

2010-09-22T13:13:00.010-04:00

Meet my dog, K. I introduced him (here) about a year ago, but today I learned a valuable lesson while walking the dog I didn't want: the importance of using your voice and how necessary it is to sometimes stand your ground.

K is a lab/husky mix, we think. He's only a year and a half old but weighs about 70 lbs. This morning as we were taking our regular stroll through the development, a neighbor's Rottweiler broke its lead and tore out of his back yard towards us. I sunk into a fighting stance and seriously considered a half-baked plan to kick this 100 lbs. beast in the head - until I remembered that I was tethered to K. The thought of somehow protecting us both was truly an OMG! moment. How could I kick one dog without hurting the one leashed to my arm? What should I do if the Rottie somehow latched onto K? How the heck was I going to get us both out of there safely?

K simply turned and faced the dog. He didn't growl or bark - he just stayed between me and the other dog. When the Rottie got to us, he opened his mouth and tried to get behind K, who simply shifted his position so he could stay between me and the other dog. Finally I remembered my voice and started yelling "Come get your dog!" hoping that someone -anyone! - would come and get this big brute away from us. One gentleman ran from the backyard and another from the front of the house to grab their dog's lead. The one from the backyard just kept saying "It's alright! He's not going to bite! He just wants to play!" Tell that to the heart that was trying to leap out of my chest...

Perhaps K knew that already, because shortly after the other dog got to us, he and the Rottie began doing what dogs do when they are trying to get to know one another: sniffing and rubbing against each other in that "Pleased to meet you!" kind of way. He wasn't jumping all over the place as he usually does when squirrels are near by, but he made sure he was always between me and his new friend. When the Rottie's owners finally got there (and yes, it seemed like it took them daggone near forever to cross the street), they had to use every ounce of strength to pull their dog away. He, I found out, is just a big puppy, too...

The few self-defense seminars I've been to have all talked about one thing: using your voice. The immediate threat of a dog charging towards me and my dog almost made me forget I had one, but, eventually, I did yell like a lunatic. Although standing your ground isn't generally recommended, I knew that running from a dog was probably not the best idea. But that my dog did in a way that made sure I was as safe as possible was a nice surprise.

Yeah - he got lots of hugs, kisses and even a treat when we got back home :-)

Taking It to the Streets

2010-09-18T18:16:00.006-04:00

In the dojo, uniformity is the thing: We dress alike (in gi and obi) - right down to our shoe-less feet. Japanese culture and Okinawan tradition aside (meaning I understand the reasons behind being all gi-ed up and barefoot in the dojo), I don't think training in my baggy karate uniform and without my shoes emulates any kind of true self-defense situation at all. Really, the only time I'll probably ever need to defend myself like that is if I actually get jumped in the dojo, in my living room as I'm packing my gear bag and preparing for class or if I'm on the beach (where my swim suit would have to substitute for my gi).

I've mentioned before how some of my outside of the dojo clothing choices have caused me a bit of concern over the prospect of getting away from an attack or fighting back if necessary. A pencil skirt and kitten heels - my usual work attire - hardly make it easy to run away, throw a spinning kick or even be all that steady on concrete or cobblestones. But, since I wear that stuff for more hours each day than I'm in gi or sweats and a t-shirt, I guess chances are that a "man jumping out from behind the bushes" attack would probably happen when I'm wearing my "girl" clothes.

Earlier this spring, Sensei S held class in the dojo parking lot. I'd worn some sweats, a t-shirt and my favorite pair of slides to class - which made movement not so restrictive - but I soon found out that shoes change the game a bit. Unable to grip my toes into the ground, the very first front kick I threw sent my slide flying over Sensei's car. My uke was a brand-spanking new white belt who had been training for about three weeks and was still learning what the heck appropriate resistance/strength meant - which meant there were no gentle takedowns onto the blacktop at all. And since we were all so used to having the cool wooden dojo floor or the comfy mats underneath us (which make slapping out a whole lot easier), we all got a few scrapes that night if I remember correctly.

All that made me never want to go for realism on the "street" ever again. Sensei keeps telling us that one winter day, we're going to train in boots, long pants and coats - and I truly hope he forgets by the time the cold months roll around again. And he might, as he says we don't do the "real clothing" training more often because anything you can do barefoot in gi you should be able to do in espadrilles and a mini-skirt, but I'm not so sure.

To test that theory a bit, at a recent Women's Self Defense seminar I attended, I did the class in the jeans and a button-up shirt I'd worn all day. So not to soil the dojo's mats, we all kicked our shoes off at the door, but the belt of my jeans as well as my earrings, necklace and watch felt weird, as those things usually gets removed before we bow in. A little more "real" than the gi/no shoes scenario, but still not "pencil skirt and brief case" real, y'know?

Have you ever trained or thrown some techniques in regular clothes? Did you like it or miss your uniform?

Me + Sit-Ups in a Gi = Sore Hiney

2010-09-06T19:03:00.005-04:00

In class, our ab-work is mostly about leg raises and crunches, but occasionally, we do pair up, lock legs and do partner sit-ups. And every time we do, I end up with a rug burn-like rash on my tailbone. The funny (as in ironic, not comedic) thing is that I usually don't notice it until after class is done, I've driven home and jumped in the shower - because soapy water on a raw skin is not a pleasant experience, let me tell you.

No one else in the dojo seems to have this issue for some reason. I figured it had something to do with the seam in either my gi bottoms or the bike shorts I wear underneath, but since I had no live person with a similar experience to compare notes with, I couldn't really put my finger on what the issue was.

Until I stumbled across this blurb on All-Karate.com. Sorry to find that others have also had issues with "the wound" but happy to hear they had solutions, too! Misery really does love company, I suppose.

I guess I'll be adding a roll of gaffer's tape to my already over-loaded gear bag...

Common Sense Self-Defense for Women

2010-08-31T09:46:00.008-04:00

Some day, I'd like to instruct self-defense classes for women. Eventually, that means certification, I suppose, but between Fight Like a Girl, R.A.D., S.A.F.E. and other systems, there're a lot of different types of programs out there, it seems. I think I know what the type of course I want to teach should contain, but I haven't quite found it yet. So I'm still looking.

In addition to the research, I've decided to check out a few workshops and seminars. Last week, I traveled upstate to the Red Dragon Karate School for Sensei Jeff Melander's seminar in Ballston Spa. I met him at a seminar a few years ago when I took his kicking class on the advice of my sensei. I still do many of the drills I learned from him then when training today.

His Women's Self-Defense seminar was for folks who had no previous martial arts training or experience. Most were mothers of Sensei Jeff's younger karate students or teen daughters of some of his adult students. All were dressed in sweats and t-shirts but I took the opportunity to actually try something I've always wanted to do: throwing techniques in something other than what I'd wear in the dojo - hence jeans, a button-up top and sandals.

Awareness was the key word of the day, as Sensei Jeff discussed ways to be more observant of what's happening around you. He also talked about the importance of walking confidently, keeping your hands free/keys at the ready and parking in well-lit areas. Unlike martial artists who are used to yelling/kiai-ing on a regular, he told the group to get used to using their voices before, during and after an attack. Two of his female black belts helped him as well - meaning he was their uke for wrist grab, rear bear hug and hair-pulling attacks. He used their natural responses - hands open and in front of the body, boxing the ears, elbow and knee strikes to segue into escape tactics the group later worked on individually.

Then he slid into "the suit" - you know, the protective full-body armor that enabled the participants to actually try the techniques with full speed and power without actually hurting the attacker. All of the women had a difficult time warming up to that at first - and several even commented about how much more menacing he looked dressed in a shiny black suit and helmet - but after a few tries, strikes were flying towards his eyes, ears, groin and shins. So used to being "nice" to my uke in the dojo, he actually had to remind me to NOT be so controlled and delicate when it was my turn to keep him at bay/get him off me. I had no problem engaging him, but I found that I pulled every single knee and elbow strike. Gotta work on that!

Any certified self-defense instructors out there? How did you decide on the program you ultimately chose for your certification?

For more information on how to chose a self-defense program, click here.

Looking "Pretty" vs. Being Practical

2010-08-26T16:26:00.016-04:00

Since the school year has again begun, I dropped by my sister dojo last night after my journalism class. The first night of training - especially for college students who probably took most of the summer off from anything karate-related - can be tough on the ol' cardiovascular system, and after about two hours of kihon, Sensei G mercifully cut his winded karateka a break and moved to Aiki Jitsu techniques, which in our system are escapes from wrist grabs and chokes.

When you're in the thick of training in any Okinawan system, it's sometimes easy to forget that the techniques we study were designed by and for body types that are very different from that of the folks on the mat with you. I'm sure that Chojun Miyagi, the founder of Goju-Ryu, created his hard/soft style with smaller Okinawan male body types in mine. I guess then it would stand to reason that the students in the dojo last night who were over 5'5" tall and/or female might have some difficulty executing the techniques the way they were originally intended to be executed - which of course included my 6'2" self, my 6'3" uke and about 95% of the class.

Of the 12 of us on the mat, six were brand new 6th kyus who were just learning the Aiki techniques Sensei G called. Since he'd matched us up with ukes based on body size, all the pairings were relatively even - which meant that if the tori/nage had issues with the grip, punch or kick based on the uke's body type, their partner had the same issue when it was his or her turn to execute the technique.

In other words, when problems arose - and they did - the nage had a decision to make: do the technique as described/demonstrated or make it work effectively for them with a little modification. My uke and I modified like crazy - enough so that when waza go (technique #5) called for a 45-degree angle step off the centerline to the right followed by a punch to the face then a spinning hook kick to the gut, we ended up having to step 90-degrees in order to not be too close to get the hook kick off. Interestingly enough, two of the shortest students decreased the angle so they could not only reach the face with the punch but reach the body with the kick. If you studied just our angles, neither of us would have looked like the textbook demo of the technique, although each of us was effective as all get out. But I could hear the murmurings of the group: should it be done like it was originally shown or like we'd done it?

The answer, unfortunately, might depend on who you ask. If the technique was to part of a presentation for, say, a grading, my first sensei always said it's best to follow the "letter of the law" and do the technique exactly as it has been demonstrated (he also encouraged "looking pretty" during kata - you know, holding poses and really making sure the techniques LOOK good - but that's another story). Sensei S doesn't encourage what he calls "Kodak moments" (as in pausing to smile for the camera, LOL), but the idea is the same. But do I really just want to LOOK like I'm doing an effective technique or do I actually want to DO a technique that actually is effective for me?

At a grading once, I got chided for making another Aiki technique work more effectively for me. An escape from a front choke, the technique called for reaching across my body and over the choking arms of my uke before grabbing one his/her wrists then using my forearm to pin his/her arm to my chest. Worked like a charm when my uke was my size or smaller, but against my larger training partners who offered even an iota of resistance (which is what a real attacker would most likely do), my skinny little arm didn't even move theirs, much less pin it. Instead, I reached under one of my uke's arms to grab the wrist. I was still able to lock the wrist and finish the rest of the technique, but my grader insisted that I do the technique the "right" way. It looked good, but I'm sure it wouldn't have worked for spit against someone trying to do me harm and who was lots stronger than me. Extremely frustrating to say the least - because the way I see it is this: how I train to do it will most likely be how I will actually do it when I need it to help me get out of a bad situation. I realize the two aren't mutually exclusive, but it seems like sometimes they can be.

Which do you do in training - "pretty" textbook techniques or effective ones that get the job done? How do you rectify it when the two aren't one in the same?

Battered and Bruised

2010-08-17T16:18:00.008-04:00

As I type this (my 50th post, BTW - whoo-hoo!), I've got ice on my Achilles (both of them), a neoprene sleeve on my right hamstring, a heat patch on my lower back and Tiger Balm on my achy left hip. Getting up to go to the kitchen or bathroom - both of which are upstairs from where I'm sitting - is an exercise in pain management. Just thinking about it makes me say "Ouch!"

In my life before karate - when my discipline was track and field and I spent many, many hours a day running in circles (OK, the track is oval shaped, but you get the point), doing plyometric drills, lifting ridiculous weights and jumping over things (my event was the high jump) - my body would cry uncle and tap out like this right before the end of the competitive season, which was around the end of July. For years, the only way I could get my body back on pointe for the next season was to take the month of August completely off - as in no running, lifting or jumping at all. My lungs sounded like a Mack truck when I returned, but my lower body injuries had time to heal, which gave me new wheels, so to speak.

Karate training is intense but in a very different way. I still lift weights and run, but not the same way as I used to when training for track. But still, it's training, which can be kinda rough on the body. Even with proper conditioning, break falls, spinning weapons and blocking/striking things with bare forearms and shins can take their toll over time. Resting the achy muscles, tendons, ligaments and bones is the one sure way to help keep things in good working order.

Yesterday, when I was prepping my body to get out of bed (seriously - I had to flex my ankles a few times to keep the Achilles from screaming at me in protest), I realized that the last time I'd taken more than four days off from training was in June - of 2007! - and that was because I had reconstructive surgery that forced me away from the dojo, treadmill, bike and weight room for almost six weeks.

These days, a month seems like an awfully long time to me. Those last six weeks away almost made me lose my mind! Trust me, had I been physically able to bend over, I probably would have waddled into the dojo with my stitches. I actually did go to class around week four, but I sat in a chair in the back - and it was worse than staying home. It's not a "no pain, no gain" thing at all; I just really hate missing the instruction.

But maybe my body is trying to tell me something.

Do you ever take time away to give your body a chance to rest and re-coup? How frequently? For How long at a stretch? Do you find it difficult to get back into the flow of things?

Shout Out to Gai.Ninja!

2010-08-14T16:30:00.009-04:00

Join me in sending some "kick some booty and do the damn thing!" vibes to fellow karateka, blogger and Prince fan extraordinaire Gai.Ninja, who will be grading for shodan tomorrow (or in a few hours as she is literally on the other side of the world from me - living and studying in Japan). Can't be there to physically cheer her on, but I figure through the blog and with your help, we could be there in spirit...

All the best, Ms. F! I'm betting you'll look great in black :-)

If All Else Fails...

2010-08-07T10:18:00.017-04:00

My training partner, Ed, says that we martial artists are strange people. We train to learn all we can about our respective arts only to hope that we never, ever have to actually use the techniques we work so hard to understand. We train through sicknesses and most definitely in health. Classes are a given when "richer" is par for the course - you know, when our jobs are secure and finances are sound - but when things get tight (cough* POORER * cough), we do what we can to figure out how the basic necessities - food, clothing, shelter and training fees - can be covered. The masters we train under and with have been studying their respective arts for most of their lives and seem bound and determine to train until their bodies just can't anymore - meaning they are being placed in their coffins or urns. Sounds a lot like a marriage, doesn't it?

And just like any partnership, life on the mat isn't always rainbows and waterfalls; sometimes you give more than you get, do things you don't enjoy or get pushed to - or even past - "the line." In the training hall, that means you may teach more than you learn, tear apart a form you absolutely loathe for a whole class or spar a senior who forces you to step outside of your comfort zone and thoroughly kicks your booty. Hard to look forward to that, huh?

Thursday night in class, Sensei had us pair up, face our partners and slap them in the face. My partner was a 16-yr-old white belt who started training about two months ago. Because my son is also 16, his face is the one I saw every time I reached out to slap my uke. And it most certainly sucked.

But then it was his turn to hit me. In the face. Over and over again. Yeah, temperance was my lesson for the evening as I found out that it's a difficult thing to keep your temper in check when someone is popping you in the face. I'd never been slapped before - and I quickly found that I hated it.

While my cheeks were getting redder and I was trying to ward off the instinct to block the slap, a quote I heard boxer Mike Tyson say once echoed in my mind: "Everyone thinks they can fight - until they get hit."

That, I think, was exactly the point Sensei was trying to make: You have to learn what is it to be hit in order to know what your response will be. A slap in the face doesn't necessarily warrant breaking someone's arm or choking them until they pass out - although it may feel like it while your face is stinging. Sometimes, getting hit, holding your temper and looking like you weren't phased may be all the fighting you need to do.

And trust me when I tell you that, even in the most optimal situation - say, a sparring round or training session where you are on top of your game - you will get hit. As Sensei M used to say, martial arts is not knitting but a live, contact environment. In the controlled setting of the ring or the training hall, your partner isn't trying to knock your lights out - but a "real" situation is a totally different story.

As fellow blogger Charles C. Goodin put it in a recent post, no karate technique is 100% effective 100% of the time. Only avoidance is.

The adage my training partners and I hear at the end of class about it most often is this:
Avoid before block...
Block before injure...
Injure before maim...
Maim before kill...
Kill before die...
For all life is precious.

But notice what it all starts with.

If all else fails, walk (or run!) away - and live to avoid another day.

My $10 Gi!

2010-07-14T22:29:00.005-04:00

I bought a new gi at the tournament last weekend - a brand-new, fresh out of the package one for just 10 bucks!

If you've ever shopped online for a karategi, you know that you can find lots of size 000, student weight (seven ounce), white uniforms for that price - but the one I got was a 12oz size five in black - the color used in USA Goju. Usually, the relatively large size and darker color add another $20 to the cost even before shipping, so imagine my happiness when I found the one that would soon be mine on one of the tourney vendor's shelves.

For the longest time, I've trained in 8.5oz gis. I know that heavyweight gis give that amazing "POP!" during kihon and drills, but they end up doubling in weight by the end of class it seems because they soak up so much sweat. Since the 8.5 oz made just enough noise for me, I was perfectly happy until I noticed that my training partners at my new (now year old, LOL) dojo all donned heavy- and even super heavyweight gis. Interested in seeing what all the buzz was about, I saddled up to the Internet one evening with my credit card in hand only to find it wasn't easy to score a heavy-weight gi without a traditional wrap-around drawstring waistband in the pants (I'm kinda partial to elastic waist gi bottoms) - in a black size 5 for less than a small fortune.

Could a $10 gi possibly fit the bill? When I opened the package to try on the pants (because we know that all size 5 gis are not created equal, that's for sure), I found my elastic - and felt like doing a happy dance right in the aisle. Best part was that the pants covered my ankles without making my almost four-feet long legs all but disappear, the jacket fit my shoulders and the sleeve length was comfortable - even though it was stiff and made me walk like a mummy. Heck, even if one sleeve was noticably shorter than the other, I was going to buy it at that point because, well, it was only $10.

My sensei kind of smiled when I told him of my find and showed him my purchase - before mentioning that he'd never heard of that particular brand of uniform and reminding me of the old "you get what you pay for" adage. I only plan on using it to compete and grade in as I will stick to my lighter gis for his brutal two-hour classes. But seriously, if it fell apart after one washing, I think I'd be able to say I got my money's worth, don't you? And did I mention it was only $10?!?

But my gi hunt still may not be over. One of my training partners told me about a new gi by Century designed specifically for women's narrower waists and shoulders. Might have to look into it...

Do you wear a different gi style, type or weight for competitions or gradings than you do for regular class? Are you partial to a particular brand or weight or am I just thinking about this too much?

On the Road Again: Glitter Sticks and Musical Kata

2010-07-13T00:01:00.006-04:00

Saturday, two of my female training partners, my sensei and I headed north to our state capital for a tournament. Billed as attracting martial artists from as far away as Canada and the mid-west, there were about 50 different divisions in everything from synchronized group kata and musical forms to creative board/concrete/brick breaking and about 300 competitors total. Although I traveled with my gear bag and competition headgear (I wear a shield for tournament kumite), the second I walked in, I'd totally changed my mind about jumping into the mix.

The biggest reason was because of the price: $60 for one event and $5 for each additional event. That is kinda close to the norm (usually about $50 in this area for two events), but waaaay steep when you consider that in the advanced (brown and black belt) female 35+ age division, there were probably only going to be a handful of competitors, if that many. So, I decided to stow my gear and watch the happenings.

Most of the competitors were from Tae Kwon Do schools. Not that there is anything wrong with TKD, but I think there were uniforms of every color imaginable in the room! Lots of competition glitter as well, mostly on the bo staffs, nunchakas and kama. The Shotokan (one competitor) and Kung Fu (three competitors) karateka donned more traditional uniforms and weapons is all I'm saying, so no hate mail, please, as I love my TKD sisters and brothers!

In the ring my sensei judged, we saw one bloodied nose (from a fluke head-butt), a badly strained hamstring that forced a competitor to withdraw and a knockout from a well-timed kick that was one of the most controlled techniques I've ever seen (no joke!). Of course that was all in the men's 18-34-yr-old divisions. The women's 35+ division had three competitors for kumite (surprise, surprise). Sigh...

I jokingly told one of my training partners that we should organize an all-female tournament in our area soon. She joked back that it would probably last about 10 minutes - and she's probably right. What is it about female martial artists competing in large tournaments? How come there just aren't many of us there?

For those of you who compete, what do you look for in a tournament? Low fees? Traditional vibe? Lots of different styles or just your style represented? Glitter sticks and creative forms? Close to home? Just wondering...

Have Bo, Will Travel

2010-06-25T17:57:00.007-04:00

I finally made it to my first kobudo class last week. McCauley Sensei last visited our dojo in April. "Fluent" in Okinawan Goju-Ryu, he took us through the basics of bo reishiki and yoi before teaching us the beginning of kata Kihon no Bo. Thursday night, it was our turn to visit him.

His dojo is about 20 minutes from ours, which is about an hour from my house. Because his class began an hour and a half later than we normally start, he suggested we "warm-up" with a short class at "home" then swing by to work with his students. His is a very traditional dojo (I'm talking rice paper doors, tatami on the floor, etc), but still I didn't expect to see a room full of adults with bos in hand, ready for kobudo when we arrived. When I tell you there were 30 folks of every rank, shape and size imaginable, I'm not exaggerating. Everyone was most gracious and courteous, anxious to assist in any way and equally as eager to learn our names. The hour and a half literally flew by and before we knew it, we'd worked up quite a sweat from bo drills/running through the entire kata about a million times and it was time to formally end class. But my training partner, Peg, Sensei S and I stayed after a bit to chat with McCauley Sensei - who, although tired after teaching for most of the evening, generously presented the kata for us at what is supposed to be its normal cadence. Suffice to say it was a bit faster than we'd been doing it all evening. Now - if I only had another day each week, I'd perhaps be able to squeeze in a kobudo class with McCauley Sensei and his students. That's not too much to ask, right?

The most ironic part of the evening was the name of the dojo: Go No Sen, which means to wait for an opening or respond after being attacked (i.e. you get hit and you hit back). When I taught my first "theory" class at Sensei S's, the lesson and drills I chose focused on the koshi (hips) but the "sens" (go no sen, sen no sen [to strike back at the same time you are attacked - sort of like a simultaneous counter attack] and sen sen no sen [a pre-emptive strike]) were featured prominently throughout.

As my sensei so often reminds me: You can't make this stuff up...

Flowetry

2010-06-04T12:40:00.005-04:00

Last night's class featured a special treat: Sensei S's sensei - Kyoshi K! Part amazing practitioner, part comedian, Kyoshi took us through kicking and punching drills as well as kata for three solid hours - but the self-defense intro that preceded all that was incredible. He still chided me for "fighting like a small person" but he recognized that some of the scenarios and add ons to the one-steps (ippon kumite techniques) we'd created on the spot might not work for someone my height (6'2"). Same for my 5'4" training partner - and he let us modify them accordingly, which was really cool.

But I noticed something while we were plowing our way through the ippons with various ukes: the three females in the room seemed to face a little bit more of a challenge when it came to making the techniques flow one into the next. The guys - the two senseis, a black belt (training partner, Ed), a brown belt and a green belt (two of Kyoshi's students) blended those suckers with hardly a hiccup. Although we worked similar add-ons two nights before and do them quite regularly in class, they didn't feel quite as familiar to me as they seemed to for the guys. Perhaps the fact that I've never been in a physical confrontation before except for sparring in the dojo or in competition had something to do with it?

Guys, it seems, kinda grow up tackling, wrestling or play-fighting. Constantly! I remember when my son was about three or so, his four-year-old cousin came over for a play date once and about two seconds after they said their hellos, they started wrestling. They slipped into it so naturally that is almost looked liked they'd coordinated a plan to play fight until they were sweaty and tired well beforehand. It was interesting to watch - especially since my son's female cousins never did anything like that when they got together for play dates. There doesn't quite seem to be a female equivalent to grabbing each other around the neck and wrestling each other to the ground. Eventually, the boys separated and played with Matchbox cars or something, but I still remember their impromptu match - 13 years later - like it happened yesterday.

A few weeks ago, my cousin, Mick, who is very much like a brother to me as we are close in age and hung around each other a lot as kids, came downstate for a visit (he lives in Rochester). Our family went out to dinner after church and while sitting in Chili's, his mom leaned over and asked him about an old scar he had near his eye. He said he'd gotten it way back in college when he was in a skirmish with a few guys. Five of them, he said, attacked him at once. He is quite a quiet and unassuming guy so it was sort of shocking that he'd been in an actual fight that drew actual blood once upon a time. Most every guy I know has been in a fight at some point in their lives. Not one of my female friends or relatives can say the same.

So perhaps things like reaction times and movements that don't look so forced or unnatural are easier for guys because many of them have actually been in real-life "block of get out of the way" situations before. Like most of my female training partners, I don't really have a strong reference point for that. My real-life "block or get out of the way" scenarios have only come in the dojo while facing an uke who is throwing a technique from a side he/she's already told me will be used. In other words, I usually know what's coming, where it's coming from and how hard/soft it will be arriving. My reactions are sort of rustily learned on the fly at age 43 - perhaps the same reactions that many of my male training partners started learning when they were three or so.

Getting the techniques to flow one into the next, I'm finding, is a bit more complicated for the ladies than the guys make it look.

16 to 24

2010-05-29T16:41:00.013-04:00

Here in the states, it is a holiday weekend. A time to reflect on the service men and women who lost their lives fighting for the rights of others, Memorial Day is also the official kick-off of summer - which means people fire up the grills and BBQ or hit the road bound for the beach or someone else's cook out. That translates to lots of folks in the grocery store stocking up on picnic or travel essentials.

After class today, I was in line with most of them, waiting to pay for my potato salad and Vitamin Water for our trip to the beach tomorrow. Long lines left me with some time on my hands, so I tried to pass it by reading the last People magazine on the rack. On the cover was Yeardley Love (pictured above), the 22-yr-old University of Virginia lacrosse player who was beaten to death a few weeks ago - allegedly by her former boyfriend who was also a student and lacrosse player at the school. She was reportedly found by her roommate face down on her bed in a pool of her own blood with one of her eyes swollen shut. Threats apparently precipitated his kicking in her door, tossing out her computer and pummeling her to death. It wasn't the first time he'd gotten physical with her the reports say, but it was, unfortunately, the last. Both of them were weeks away from graduation and playing with their respective teams in the NCAA tournament.

People gave all kinds of domestic/acquaintance violence statistics, but one nearly made me fall over: women age 16-24 suffer three times higher rates of domestic violence than any other age group. Can you believe that?!? I still have a hard time digesting that information.

Lately there have been too many stories of young women who went out for a run, a walk to school, a night out with friends, a rock concert, a trip to the local deli or whatever and never returned home. Many of them were abducted and killed by folks they knew while some of them were accosted by complete strangers. The end results were exactly the same.

I've asked before, but I'll ask again: what can we as martial artists, as instructors, as women, as humans do to help stop the madness so that we don't have to keep burying our daughters, sisters, friends, cousins, neighbors, class- and team-mates? What we're doing now isn't working or just isn't enough, it seems...

Product Review: Ringstar Full Coverage Sparring Foot Pads

2010-05-21T13:34:00.015-04:00

Prior to ever stepping foot on the mat, I had THE most horrendous looking feet on the planet. Seriously - with bunions, scuffed up toes from squeezing them into cute "girl shoes," Morton's Toe (my second toe is longer than the big one) AND baby toes that kind of lay on their sides (due to an unfortunate mishap as a toddler with those hard-bottomed baby walking shoes from back in the day), they just plain looked JACKED UP. I learned to live with it by keeping my shoes on or wearing the most ornate sandals I could find when the weather heated up and my toes had to be exposed. Amazing what a little bling and nail polish can do...

But then I started kicking stuff with my bare feet in karate and they got that much worse. I've dislocated my right big toe, broken my right baby toe and badly bruised the next-to-baby toe on the left foot, all while sliding around the ring in the dojo practicing kumite and tai sabaki techniques. Nothing like making an ugly situation that much uglier.

Dipped foam sparring kicks helped keep my feet from getting any more roughed up, but my toes always felt like they were being strangled as once I strapped them on, as I couldn't really move my digits around very much at all. Plus the plastic strap that ran along the bottom made me slip and slide all over the place, so I switched to the padded elastic instep guards. Sure they kept me from slipping and my feet didn't feel like they were being choked to death, but my toes were also taking the brunt of the force when I kicked, too (hello, pain!). I needed to find a solution for my aching tootsies with a quickness.

At a tournament in NYC late last year, there were a few competitors wearing the Ringstar Full Coverage Sparring Foot Pads pictured above. Unlike martial arts sneaker-type shoes, they are heavily padded like dipped foam kicks which helps keep the foot safe while keeping the person being kicked from getting blasted too hard. The most appealing thing about them to me though, was the actual textured bottom which gave them the sole of a sneaker. Wow - the best of both worlds!

I finally got to try out a pair. They arrived in a shoe box - not a plastic bag like all the other foot gear I'd ordered for my son or myself over the years - with actual tissue paper separating the left shoe from the right one - plus they had that "new shoe" smell! They still fasten with an elastic and Velcro strap that wraps around the top/underneath the shoe and secures at the back of the heel, but they also have an additional Velcro closure where the laces of a traditional shoe or sneaker would be, which allowed them to completely hug the instep of my somewhat narrow foot. And once I got them on, I could actually wiggle my toes a bit. It was at that point that I think I thanked the genius who birthed the idea for this shoe and pushed to get his or her somewhat unorthodox design to the masses.

After strapping them on, I jumped around in my kitchen for a bit (the only floor in the house that emulates the actual dojo wood) and they felt pretty good! Moving on the ball of my foot to throw a spinning kick or even pivot for a roundhouse, side or hook kick was kind of tricky (because there was a little more friction to deal with than I was use to), but I hoped it would be something I'd figure out how to negotiate in time. I tossed them in my gear bag with the idea that I'd begin that negotiation when it was time to next work sparring drills in class...

About three seconds after last night's warmup in class, Sensei had us pad up and get ready to do just that, so I strapped on my new sparring accessories and got ready to work. We tackled blitzing, a few hand and foot combinations to drive an opponent back and also learned to target a moving adversary using the knee (to block if he/she charged forward) or move into a side, roundhouse or hook kick (if he/she moved off to the side or back even further). Next we did some line sparring before moving into light contact/high intensity round robin fighting, which was an absolute blast. For over an hour we fought - and not once did I even think about my feet. The shoes felt like they were a part of my body, not dangling extensions that I hoped would do what they were supposed to do without causing me to fall on my butt. I could bend and move my foot with no issues at all. My tootsies were happy for the first time in a long time (cue angelic "Ahh-ahh!!" here) - and so was I :-)

None of my training partners noticed any difference in the force of the kicks either, which is good. My buddy, Ed, even tried them on (yes, my feet are THAT big) and liked them too - so much that he'll be ordering his own pair from karatedepot next week. After class, another of my dojo sisters talked about how her foam kicks always seem to split near the heel from being pulled off after sparring rounds. Because of the soles, the Ringstar pads kind of have to be pulled off from from the bottom, so I think they'll hold up well. The only drawback of the night was the short, black streaks I left on the newly polished dojo floor. So much for the "skid mark resistant" bottoms...

At $59.99, they are a bit more expensive than foam kicks, but to me, they are well worth it. If you are having have problems with your sparring foot gear or just want to sample something new, give them a try.

An interesting aside: since tossing the shoes back into my bag last night, I've stubbed my toes on door jams TWICE and dropped a bottle of water my foot (ouch!). Perhaps I need to be wearing them around the house now, too...

Kata Time!

2010-05-19T12:30:00.010-04:00

No longer straddling the fence between two different schools/training philosophies, I'm finally back to exclusively training in one place again - and it feels great. Although the road to get here was a bit on the bumpy side, it's time to get back to the business of training in full effect again. While the transition was happening, my gym time and solo kata/kihon training dwindled down to almost nothing as I dealt with the fallout, licked my wounds and figured out what the heck the next move should be. As a result, the stress and off-kilter eating patterns caused me to lose about six pounds I could ill-afford to do without. Suffice to say I slipped into a bit of a funk for a minute. But now that I'm back to my regular ancillary training routine, not only has my mood changed, but so have the patches on my gis :-). Time now to earnestly start working on some other changes as well - specifically when it comes to kata.

Training like we did for so long, my training partners and I have an entire curriculum of kata that we know how to do at least two different ways (my buddy, Ed - who came to the school we just left from yet another USA Goju school - actually knows three ways to do most of our kata). It got so bad that when we trained on our own and somebody called a particular kata, we'd have to ask them to clarify "which" Empi Go, Gesaku Sho, Gesaku Dai or Empi Ha they were referring to. Crazy, right?

Sometimes the differences between the kata are subtle, but more often that not, the changes in target as well as the arm, hand, foot and leg positions and even some of the techniques and transitions are pretty big. It was a challenge trying to remember what school we were training in when a kata was called, but the absolute worst was the frustration of being introduced to something one way, doing it the gazillion times it takes to commit it to (muscle) memory, then being introduced to a more efficient way only to have the hardest daggone time trying to erase the other memory and get the new one to stick. Grrrrr...

Such was my reality in class last night doing Sansero. A USA Goju brown belt kata, we spent over an hour last night with Sensei S tearing it apart - all to get a deeper understanding and appreciation of its complexities. I originally learned the kata as a third kyu - back in 2007 - but uncovered a whole 'nother layer last night. Ironically, it was one of the few underbelt katas we hadn't "torn up" since I began going to Sensei S's class last year. How apropos is it that the kata refinement "finale" comes almost a year to the day after shodan promotions - and hence the real beginning of my training.

Like I've done with all the other kata we've dissected, I've written lots of details about Sansero down in my notebook, but now is where the real fun begins as I've got to make those changes stick in the ol' grey matter. But for the first time in a long time, I won't have to struggle to remember which dojo I'm in when I'm presenting it. :-)

Too cool!

What's in a Name?

2010-05-07T17:29:00.009-04:00

I haven't shared this before, but for the first karate class after my shodan test, I actually forgot to pack a gi in my gear bag (ironically, I'd been dreaming about forgetting my gi for weeks before the grading, too)! Running back to my house made me a few minutes late for class. When I got back to the dojo, Sensei F had the class stop what they were doing (with a "Courtesy to Sensei!" command) and bow in my direction - the norm whenever a black belt enters the dojo. But because the rank was so new (as in all of two days old), I stopped, turned around and prepared to bow to whatever dan was entering after me (duh!). I wasn't thinking of myself as a "sensei" yet.

When I first started teaching as a college adjunct instructor many years back, hearing "Professor H" from my students literally made me pause for a split second and try to figure out who the heck they were talking to (duh again!) - because I wasn't really thinking of myself as a professor yet. Putting PowerPoint presentations together, grading mountains of papers and making up exam questions have all helped changed my view, but I still giggle a bit on the inside when I hear "professor" before my name.

When I was having all the dreams about forgetting my gi last year, Sensei S questioned me on what I thought the dreams meant. "Is there magic in that gi or do you get power from your belt?" he asked. His point - about the uniform having no affect on the karateka I was - was well taken. Perhaps the same point can be made about one's name...

The few times Sensei S has had to call and leave me a voicemail, he's said "Hey there, this is K." Not once has he ever referred to himself as "Sensei S." Funny thing is that I've only ever heard Sensei J call him "Sensei" - never by his first name. And these are two of the most amazing practitioners and teachers I know, but still the black belts they wrap around their waists to train in have no stripes or way to signify that they are sixth- and fourth-dans respectively. Maybe they are the most humble, too...

Whether my sensei refers to himself by his first name or last, it doesn't change who he is, what he's done and the amount of respect he's afforded on the mat. Even if all his students developed amnesia and could only refer to him as "Hey, you!" he'd still be the same great instructor and man of Tao.

There's a lesson in there somewhere, I'm sure of it :-)

Congratulations!

2010-05-07T16:59:00.006-04:00

Last night marked my one-year shodan anniversary. How did I spend it? At a karate grading, of course - the very same one I was a participant in last year.

This time I only helped grade self-defense techniques and tamishiwara. I also sparred a little as well, but the main reason I was there was to cheer on some of my training partners. For the last four months or so, I've had the pleasure of training with my alma mater's Goju Karate Club after my Monday evening class on campus. Mostly students and recent alum, the karateka ranged in rank from seventh all the way to first kyu. Many nights I was asked by the lead instructor to work with the underbelts on kata. I think I learned way more from them than they learned from me because their enthusiasm was absolutely infectious.

Six of them earned their green belts last night, two moved to fourth kyu, two others to first kyu (official shodan candidates!!) and one - a tri-athlete and water polo player who stopped training as a fourth kyu years ago and returned to the dojo a while back in his purple obi - earned a crisp, new black belt. They all did an amazing job...

Here they are donning their new belts and certificates (their Sensei - another Sensei S - is kneeling in front). Congratulations!

Learn It Right and Learn It Early

2010-05-04T10:45:00.018-04:00

I try to spend the mornings after karate class writing down specifics about techniques and recapping what we learned or reviewed the previous night. Before I did that this morning, I reviewed new posts from my favorite martial arts bloggers and found a great post on "Honoring Technique" from my "across the pond" MA friend, Sue. Great minds think alike, I guess...

Last night when I was visiting the dojo that meets on campus after my editing class, I ran into my own "honoring technique" situation when I was asked to help the underbelts with Ippon Kumite (one-point sparring) techniques. The group has a grading coming up later this week and the class was one of the last fine-tuning opportunities they'll have before promotions. There were only two women there - a seventh kyu and a fifth kyu. Close in rank, height and weight, they paired up and worked on their ippons together.

It became quickly apparent, though, that the two of them were just sort of falling to the ground when they were the uke (person having the technique done to them) and pulling techniques/punching past each other when they were the nage or tori (person doing the technique). I could see that they knew what they were supposed to be doing, but whether or not they could do it effectively in "real time" wasn't so obvious.

My mention of it to the sensei led to a discussion about appropriate resistance. Sure the uke needs to offer some resistance, but too much can make executing the technique almost impossible. But how much is too much for a white belt? For a green belt? I remembered one of my early promotions with my green belt uke who absolutely refused to be swept or taken to the ground. One of the senseis I'd been training with whispered to me to give Mr. Iron Man a gentle but firm push with my foot on the back of his knee to assist gravity a bit. Worked like a charm (he literally dropped like a rock), but I remember feeling kinda of surprised that I wasn't able to work the technique as I'd learned it for squat. Strange - because my uke in the dojo always fell right on cue. Hmmm...

It seems to me that we do each other a terrible dis-service by just falling to the ground when a punch comes into our vicinity. If I totally lose my balance when my tori simply touches my gi, it may give a false sense that the technique he/she is doing is actually working when in fact it might not be. Especially for women and others who may be faced someday with an evil-doer who is bigger and stronger, learning how to make the techniques as effective as possible is absolutely key - but not just so it looks good for grading. I think it's best to begin learning that as the technique is being learned. Because I've been there, done that, the idea of learning something one way then having to re-learn it so it works whenever you need it to is not the best way to grasp a concept, I'm thinking. The "it will make sense/get easier as you develop and grow" school of thought is totally to the curb when it comes to learning karate, in my humble opinion.

But that's not to say that there aren't techniques in our system that I didn't have difficulty learning or that would ever be my "go-to" ones in a real, live situation - especially if my adversary is bigger than I am. To try to understand how that might play out, I tend to seek out the solid guys with the strong hands when working self-defense and wrist grab escapes (thanks to Sensei J, Rob, Mike and Ed for indulging me :-). If I can't make it work with them when they know what's coming, chances are I'm probably going to have issues making them flow smoothly in the street against Chester the Molester, too.

I'm going to channel Sue here (who asked the same question of her readers): what does "honoring technique" mean to you?

Internal Dragon Martial Arts Grading in NYC

2010-04-13T10:45:00.017-04:00

We hit the road again on Saturday (you probably think we NEVER stay home!), traveling to one of Sensei S.'s instructors - Kyoshi Williams' - promotions in the Bronx. About 25 kids and six adults graded - including two for shodan. It started about 10:30am but didn't end until after 3pm. Minimal injuries (a cut eye and an asthma attack during sparring and a hurt wrist from a successful cinder block break) - but a good time was had by all.

Before their belt presentations, the children waited patiently as Kyoshi and SBN Slader look on.

4-yr-old Destiny gets her Yellow Belt from Oba-san Solomon. Her mom (in the red print shirt) gets Sensei S. to bend down so she can get a picture.

One of the shodan candidates contemplating the cinder slab before his final break.

Here's what his wrist looked like after the cinder broke but before Sensei S. applied Dit Da Jow and White Lotus ointments.

Welcome to yudansha!

Cracking The Egg

2010-04-11T13:28:00.017-04:00

For almost a full year now, I've been training under two different USA Goju instructors at two different dojos. Although my senseis came through the ranks together, they have such different training philosophies that it would be nearly impossible to tell that their mudansha years were shaped by the same sensei unless someone told you.

This week, I've been forced to face some harsh realities about my home dojo. Even beyond the manner in which my first sensei has insisted the underbelts be taught, how yudansha from other styles training with us are treated and the level of instruction my training partners and I have gotten since we graded for shodan last May, Sensei F. and I are not even looking in the same direction now in reference to how karateka at any level should train - and it's all causing me lots of distress. I'm even having trouble sleeping (and I almost NEVER have trouble sleeping!)...

Two of my first-kyu dojo mates are scheduled to grade for shodan at the spring gathering next month. While one of them is truly my training partner - in that we've traveled to other dojos, attended seminars and done kata and self-defense techniques in my driveway together over the past three years - the other doesn't seem to do much training at all outside of the once a week Saturday class. Unfortunately, her blocks, stances and kata all look like she doesn't as as well - so much so that a few of us were asked by Sensei F. after last spring's grading to work with her on her basics as she wasn't quite up to where he thought she should be. A year later, she looks pretty much the same as she did then, but still she will be tossed into the mix to grade for shodan next month. Sensei F.'s main argument as to why is because she's been a loyal dojo member for almost as long as he's been teaching there.

I'm only a shodan, but it seems to me that the awarding of rank should be based on merit, not merely on how long a person has trained. She's trained for 13 years - but 13 years of schooling did not automatically net me a high school diploma (working hard to excel at the required curriculum did, though). Although it should be the same in the dojo, it doesn't seem as if Sensei F. sees it that way at all.

Since he is my sensei, it stands to reason that I should be able to talk to him about both dojo and life stuff (and usually I can, as I have talked in detail with him about some very difficult karate-related things in the past) - so I didn't think speaking to him about my dojo mate's level of preparation for the upcoming grading would be an issue. Unfortunately, it was. He basically blasted me for questioning him and blew off my concerns in a big way. At first I was upset (read: I cried like a baby); but then I was kinda angry. Now I'm just really, really disappointed...

I've rationalized everything that I've experienced in my home dojo over the past year that didn't jibe with budo as just being sensei's way, but I can't do that anymore. I've decided that it's time to call it a day and move on. I can't even tell you how incredibly sad that makes me, but I think it's the right thing for me to do as well as the right time to do it.

I'll have to sit down with him and have a heart-to-heart about why I am where I am, and that makes me horribly uncomfortable - specifically because I'm not sure how it will be received. Never in a million years did I think I'd ever be here - almost afraid to talk to someone who has been like a third parent to me - but here is exactly where I am. My stomach is in knots and I feel incredibly guilty, for some reason.

But I know in my heart of hearts that moving on is what has to be done. It won't be easy, but what's that saying about the shell having to break before the bird can fly? Perhaps it's time to begin the prep for flying on over to a new nest. Hand me that hammer, please...

A friend of mine said it best, though: "Martial arts is to the dojo like faith is to the church. If you have faith and your pastor is not giving you the food you need, find a new church but keep the faith. If your dojo is not feeding but you still have the martial art desire to learn, find a new dojo that feeds you and allows you to continue growing. It's not about the dojo or rhe sensei, its about the student and the learning." (Thanks, Ty :-)

The "Ground" Game: Is It Necessary to Know How to Defend from Down There?

2010-04-05T13:46:00.003-04:00

This morning, as my hubby-to-be and I were doing a little spring cleaning, I playfully hit him with a pillow. Since the laundry basket was in back of me, I thought nothing at all of him walking behind me to toss the pillow cases in it - until he bum-rushed me from behind and pinned me on the bed. Not the position anybody wants to be in at all - especially since he's a 6'3", 215 lbs runner who lifts weights with his athletes (he's a track coach) at least three days a week. Not only is he rock solid, he also studied judo as a kid as well as some practical self-defense stuff while in the military for 20 years.

Keep in mind, we spar from time to time (in the kitchen, LOL), and because he's as long as I am, he's a good person to train with as he keeps me honest - meaning I can't just sit back and punch/kick since he can reach me from where I can reach him. But being pinned was totally different. I tried everything I could to get him off me - thrusting my hips, rolling onto my side, even reaching for his arms to go for a wrist or shoulder lock - all to no avail because he outweighs me by 60 lbs and was Just. Too. Strong. To make matters worse, when he shifted his weight, he made me roll, trapping me on my side with my hands above my head. Everything from my armpit to my hip was exposed. Had he been an evil doer with a knife, I would have been toast.

Although he would never hurt me, that same scenario with someone who would is actually one of my biggest fears. Every now and again in the dojo, someone will remind us that most fights end on the ground, so it seems logical that knowing what to do once you get there is important. But I hardly feel confident on the ground - defending or attacking - and I doubt that I could protect myself from or actually get away from a person who really is trying to do me harm once I'm down there.

At a seminar on inside attacks a few summers back, a woman raised a hand and asked about what a shorter, weaker person would do against an attack from behind where the assailant pushed them forward. She told us about how a friend got off a bus, passed a guy she had a "funny feeling" about but kept going. The next thing she remembers is waking up in a hospital bed about a week later. He'd not only grabbed her from behind and pushed her forward, but he slammed her forehead into the pavement several times, which knocked her out almost instantly. Not sure if she was sexually assaulted, but she was robbed. The friend doesn't remember much of that week she spent in the hospital because she was in a coma.

Although she was not a martial artist and probably would have benefited greatly by trusting her gut about that funny feeling she had (which we women have been socialized to totally ignore, it seems), I wonder how much a good ground game might also have helped her? The only thing the facilitator could think of to alleviate the immediate and most dangerous threat - the trauma to her head - was to placing the arms between her head and the pavement. But had the attacker pinned them to her side when he grabbed her, that would not have been an option, even.

What do you think: should ground work be an ancillary or even a necessary part of traditional karate training? I wasn't always so sure before, but perhaps I need to re-think that...

Guest Blog: Sensei S. Takes the Wheel

2010-04-02T22:54:00.000-04:00

Just in case you've grown tired of hearing me blather on endlessly about my karate adventures, I invited Sensei S. to take the reigns and post about our recent experience in Sellinsgrove, Pennsylvania at the Susquehanna Martial Arts Symposium. A sixth dan in USA Goju who's studied martial arts for well over 30 years, he's extremely astute and knowledgeable, but he's also a very private sort of guy - which means it took a lot of begging and pleading to get him to post his thoughts here (seriously - I really made a pest of myself), but I'm sure you'll appreciate his insight as much as his students do...

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The Susquehanna Martial Arts Symposium
Senseis Nakamura, S. and Mann
I wasn't sure what to expect upon arrival. The group was smaller than I anticipated. Shortly after our arrival, Jeff Mann Sensei - the symposium organizer - got right into an invigorating warmup. By the time Tetsuji Nakamura Sensei engaged us for kihon, we were warmed up and ready to go. Nakamura Sensei's session on kihon was informative and productive. It was great being a student again.

I guess what stuck out was the explanation for everything we did. Although there were attendees from different styles, we all understood Sensei's demonstration of techniques and their intention. I found myself jotting copious notes on kakie - a variation of "push hands" that was somewhat different than we were used to, but felt so intuitive and natural. We also did mushimi technique with an excellent explanation on sinking the body and generating power. I purposely chose partners from outside the group I came with so I might better experience the flavor of the applications. It was nice to be reminded of and brought back to the basics of Goju-Ryu.

On a particular note, I was tickled by the scheduling of Pekiti Tersia on the program, led by Guro Wes Tasker. The concepts of Pekiti Tersia seem far removed from Goju-Ryu - and yet at our home, Shin Ri Tan Kyu Martial Arts Academy, we also embrace the teachings of Pekiti Tersia taught by Guro Douglas Marcaida of Rochester, NY. It is such an interesting dichotomy. I think the systems actually complement each other.

Which goes to my point: There was an openness about this symposium. While re-enforcing the teachings of the Goju-Kai, the practitioners were also open to the ideas and applications presented by other styles. Since my students have a background in Pekiti, they were all comfortable with the baston - yet every person in the room willingly embraced the techniques shown. It was a learning experience for all.

The "Women, Violence and Self-Defense" forum was particularly enlightening. I have taught common sense self-defense for years to male and female high school students and it was informative to hear from a PA state trooper who sees the extreme cases, although my female students were not in agreement with some of his summations. However bad a personal situation becomes, there's never an excuse to resort to violence, unless in self-defense.

Mann Sensei's "Zanchin: Theory and Practice" seminar took us through techniques that are normally done in a classroom setting - but his techniques developed a follow-through, which forced you to think a situation through and finish. Regular practice with these techniques would be a great way to develop muscle memory for self-defense techniques.

The high point for me was Sunday's exploration into kata and bunkai. It's a given that Peter Urban had a different interpretation of Goju-Ryu techniques. It was nice to explore the root of Goju-Ryu forms from Nakamura Sensei and a comparison of the derivatives of other systems.

It was a great experience and something I'd like to do again and would encourage anyone wishing a deeper understanding and foundation of Goju-Ryu to partake in. Kudos to Mann Sensei on a well put together event.

Insert Expletive Here

2010-03-15T16:54:00.000-04:00

I broke another toe in class Saturday while sparring. When I broke my first bone ever - the pinky toe on my right foot - Sensei S told me that I would, in all likelihood, break others while training. He was right, of course (when is he not, LOL?), but who'da thunk it would happen so soon after the first?

This time, it's the opposite foot - the toe next to the baby one - and it was the only thing hurting (OK - throbbing) yesterday. Today, my entire forefoot is hurting, although only that one toe is swollen like a sausage.

The gym is calling, though (already had my mandatory rest day this week) and I've been asked to lead an hour of tomorrow night's class. Hmmm....to train or not to train on it? That truly is the question of the day...

This so sucks, BTW!

Chelsea King and Amber Dubois

2010-03-08T13:06:00.000-05:00

Violence against women is usually ugly and senseless, but when young women are victims, it feels even uglier.

Chelsea King was a senior at a San Diego-area high school who innocently went for a run at a local park after school. Amber Dubois was a 15-year-old who was last seen by her family as she left to walk to school one morning over a year ago. Neither girl ever returned home. Chelsea's body was found late last week in a shallow grave not far from where she'd parked her car before her run. Amber's remains were found yesterday.

Right now, convicted sex offender John Albert Gardner III is the prime suspect in Chelsea's murder. Police aren't saying yet if he can be connected to Amber's death, but, since girls were similar in body build and disappeared in similar ways, the speculation abounds.

It's more than a little scary that any child could leave for school one morning and never return. It truly is a parents' worst nightmare (and the main reason I didn't watch "The Lovely Bones" when it hit the cinemas - although the novel was amazing)...

So what do we need to do?

In my martial arts training, every sensei I've ever had has spoken first about two things: AWARENESS - as in knowing what is going on around you and AVOIDANCE - as in getting out of dodge the moment it seems like a situation could go south. Perhaps Chelsea and Amber might have been even more aware than they were had they not have been accosted doing something they did on a regular (and obviously felt safe doing). Maybe prevention has as much to do with how our children - particularly our girls - are socialized than anything else.

The reality is that little girls are encouraged to go with the flow, not make a scene, not be argumentative all while being compassionate/helpful to others in need. For so many, these traits have led to awful outcomes; evil doers who prey on women often play on these characteristics to gain their unsuspecting victims' trust. Remember bad guy Buffalo Bill in the movie "Silence of the Lambs" who convinced his last victim to help him load a couch into his van before abducting her? Serial killer Ted Bundy even walked with a limp to garner sympathy from women before he solicited their 'help." Our need to be helpful can be harmful, it seems.

Everyone - adult and child alike - should learn to trust their gut instincts. If a situation or conversation doesn't feel right, it probably isn't. But too often, we women talk ourselves out of thinking someone might be out to do us harm. Not saying that was the case with Chelsea or Amber, but it could be the case for anyone, martial artist or not.

And remember not to be passive if you ever do find yourself being accosted. According to a 1998 FBI criminal victimization survey, 62% of women who screamed, 81% of women who tried to run away and 68% of women who used some type of physical force were able to escape from their attackers. Doing SOMEthing - be it yelling, running away or hitting back - nets better odds than doing nothing. Tell your daughters, sisters, nieces and neighbors. Heck, tell your sons, brothers, nephews and male neighbors, too.

It's not enough to just pray that Chelsea and Amber will be the last girls who never return home from school. Talking to our kids about what to do if they are ever approached - a hard conversation to have, I know - might be even better.

Absence and Fond Hearts: The Olfactory Connection

2010-02-22T11:15:00.000-05:00

About two years ago, my sinuses were so blocked that I actually had my doctor worried enough to order an MRI of my head and find out what was going on. Turned out to be major inflammation (whew!) which resulted in a referral to an ear, nose and throat specialist. About five minutes into the exam, the ENT asked me if I'd ever done a contact sport because my septum was severely deviated. Instantly, I flashed back to a line sparring hand drill we'd done a few years earlier where my own punch was blocked and ricocheted back to whack me in the nose. I saw stars but no blood and incorrectly concluded that all was well. Umm....apparently not. (Karate "strikes" again!). He also found nasal polyps pressing against my olfactory nerve and messing with my ability to smell anything, but they appeared to be unrelated to karate...

Last week, my lungs were a little funky. An asthmatic since my high school cross country days, I can usually keep my lungs under control unless I get a cold, but that was not the case this time. As per my doc, I had to break out the heavy artillery - an anti-inflammatory medicine called prednisone to help get my ailing airways back in line. In addition to my lungs feeling better, the inflammation in my sinuses is down a bit and I can do something I haven't been able to in a while: smell! Last night, it was the whiff of coffee when I went into the local gas station to pay for my gas. This morning was my juice and the syrup on my pancakes. Right now, it's unfortunately the dog in need of a bath, but, trust me, it's better than nothing.

It's funny the things you forget you've lost until you get them back. I got so used to not being able to smell anything that when I finally could, it felt like sensory overload. I felt the same way when breast reconstruction surgery had me sidelined from karate for two months (I spent the time trying to keep my senses sharp by watching karate training videos and kung-fu movies, LOL). When I finally was all healed and able to get back to class, I felt like a kid in a candy store - kicking, blocking and kiaing all over the place.

But unlike after reconstruction, prednisone is only a temporary fix for my sense of smell. The only way to make it more permanent is to have surgery and have the polyps removed. I've resisted the idea for a while because eventually, the polyps will probably grow back and because the surgery itself will force me to be off the mat - again - at least for a bit. Sigh...

Ever have nasal surgery for polyps? Would you do it again?

Making it Work: The Long and Short of It

2010-02-10T11:56:00.000-05:00

Last night in class, we worked more ippon kumite add-ons. Our instruction from Sensei S was to pick a technique from our ippon library and add at least one (or two, if possible) to it so our uke was eventually on the ground and neutralized. The goal, he said, was to get us to the point where the technique flowed without pausing to think "What should I do next?" Real fights, he said, don't happen at half-speed like they do in the dojo. Now, I've only been in one "street" fight in my life (a second-grade bru-ha-ha with a classmate named Terry: she pulled my hair, I pulled hers and it was over), so I kinda have to rely on his knowledge and the testimony of others who have felt the adrenalin-drenched "fight or flight" response that comes when a confrontation is eminent for detail of what a knock-down, drag-out fight is really like (like this description by fellow blogger ZenHG, for example).

Anyway, my uke was a woman who hasn't been training in our style for long. A black belt in another art, she donned a white belt and jumped in the back of class over a year ago to earnestly learn USA Goju. She's strong and very fluid, but the ippon she wanted to start with was one she didn't know very well. Subsequently, we spent much of the time that we were supposed to be trading techniques helping her transition from Ippon #5 to dumping and "finishing" me. We got down to brass tacks and eventually, the techniques became seamless for her, but when Sensei S wanted to see what we'd all worked on, he wanted to see each of us defend. Because I hadn't gotten a chance to go through my add-ons, I instantly panicked. When my dojo brother, Ed, saw my face he leaned over and said "Don't worry - it's in your head!" - meaning stop thinking, trust the training and do the damn thing. So after my partner did her thing to me, I got ready to do just that.

Trouble is, the technique I'd picked wasn't very effective at all. Unfortunately, I didn't realize that until after her punch was coming and I tried to get out of the way. Not only did I barely move, I ended up behind her in a most awkward position after a hook kick to her back and just kind of swept her lead foot in a way that was strained and forced, not smooth and fluid. In my head, I was saying "What the heck was that?" so I'm sure it looked a bloody mess to everyone else. Of course, Sensei S had me do it a few more times, but it got no better. Eventually, he replaced my 5'2", 105lb. white belt uke with Sensei J, a 6'2" 250lb. fourth dan who is lightening fast. Yep - trouble.

As you might imagine, getting out of his way didn't go so well either, so much so that our knees literally bumped as he came forward and I had absolutely no chance of getting any follow-through technique off. Sensei S got on me for not using my height/fighting like a much shorter person (he literally says this about every third class or so - and he's absolutely right, but I'm working on it). While the rest of the class moved onto refining the subtleties of their add-ons, I was getting remedial "this is how you move out of the way" assistance from Sensei J. Sigh...

Have you ever watched a fellow martial artist or dojo mate do a technique with the grace of a ballerina but looked like a total rock when you tried to emulate it? That's what stepping to the left - a simple tai sabaki move to avoid contact - felt like to me last night. I knew what I needed to do: start moving as soon as Sensei J's hand began moving towards my head, but each time I did, I either moved too slowly, moved too far away (which put me out of range to counter), didn't move far enough (which didn't give me enough room to get the hook kick off) or simply couldn't get my feet to go to the angle they were supposed to. It wasn't like I wasn't trying; I just couldn't do it.

"This really shouldn't be so hard," I kept telling myself. I've been doing Ippons for years, daggone it. Nobody else in the room had any difficulties moving at all. It's simply a STEP TO THE LEFT, for crying out loud! But my feet and the rest of me just couldn't - or wouldn't - cooperate. I had become the "Here's what NOT to do in a confrontation" poster child.

But Sensei J was patient. He physically showed me exactly when I needed to start moving (just when his hand came to the edge of my "danger range" which was just inside my fingertips when my hands were extended in front of me), which we did v-e-r-y s-l-o-w-l-y at first, then sped up a bit. He moved my body to the position it should have been to get the hook kick off effectively and let me try to get it higher - to his head, actually - again and again. He showed me other openings and how to use my legs to get to those openings. When Sensei S glanced over to check my progress, he saw the kick to Sensei J's head and simply said "That could work for you." Then he began telling us all how important it was to get comfortable with and use techniques that would work for each individual. I'm tall and have long legs, but I'm rather light. I know that the techniques that might work for someone shorter or against someone stronger - like a hook kick to the back from close range or dragging a bigger adversary down with one arm - might not work for me. So I need to find other things that will. Finding my "go to" technique(s) so I don't have to wonder "Now what?" may save my hide someday.

The moral of my story? Perhaps every technique won't work for everybody, but knowing what won't work for you is as good a place to start as any - that and the idea that trying and failing miserably is always better than not trying at all. But, of course there is much work to do, as there always is. As I've mentioned before, a musician friend of mine refers to the sharpening of his skills as "shedding" - as in taking it apart, doing it again and again in an effort to learn how to do it better - all in the woodshed behind the house, which is how it was done back in the day...

Heading to the shed again :-)

When Life Gets in the Way of "The Way"

2010-01-26T19:44:00.000-05:00

We recently had a tragedy in the area: one of the kids who use to take karate with us was stabbed to death. Levi, the former karateka, was 17. The young man who stabbed him was only 13.

While looking back through some dojo photos for one of Levi to give his younger brother (another former student) at the wake, I came across this picture I took after youth promotions three years ago:

Levi is on the bottom row - second from the left. Of the 29 folks pictured - minus Sensei F - only 12 are still training. That includes some of the black belts lined up in the back.

Many folks I've trained with over the years have had to step away from the dojo at some point or other - some for a little while, some for a little while longer. Some have come back, but a whole lot have not. You miss them for a minute, but then months pass and you sort of forget that you used to see them on a regular. They get busy, you get busy and, well, life happens. Before you know it, you find yourself pointing to them in an old photo saying "Hey, what ever happened to...?"

Kinda sad, really...

Times That Try (Wo)men's Soles

2010-01-21T17:05:00.002-05:00

In addition to my day job, I'm an adjunct journalism professor and last night was my first night back for the spring semester. Since I spend way too much time with my hair pulled back and in sweats (on the way to the gym or karate class), I try my best to dress professionally when I step onto the classroom, which usually means dress pants, a nice blouse or sweater and (drumroll....) a pair of pumps. Not very high pumps (I am 6'2", after all), but with a bit of a heel just the same.

Since my class ends at 9:30pm, it's quite dark when I head to my car for the trip home, which means there are lots of shadows around bushes, building entryways and corners even with the campus' sidewalk lamps blazing the path. Forever the karateka, last night I ran a few self-defense scenarios in my head as my heels clicked across the cobblestones en route to the parking lot. Balancing my weight and that of my briefcase on shoes teetering in the sidewalk breaks and cobblestones proved quite tricky - so much so that I couldn't imagine being able to run away or spin on the balls of my feet to throw a kick if I needed to. I felt sort of powerless in a way, which made me want to get to my car that much quicker, which of course my shoes prevented me from doing. And this is the same campus where I take karate class twice a week - but it is a totally different place at night when I'm rocking my "girl" shoes, I found...

I haven't done much training in regular clothing (READ: sans gi or in any type of shoes), but we're often told to kick shoes like sandals, flip-flops or mules off as soon as a confrontation seems unavoidable. But my boots were zippered almost up to my knee. No way I was gonna be able to kick those things off unless I asked the attacker to allow me a few seconds to unzip them.

So what's a professional woman to do - toss out every pair of "girl" shoes in the closet and wear running sneakers everywhere? Learn how to navigate in tricky footwear (as if walking in shoes with a heel wasn't challenging enough) a-la the animated female warriors from Tekken? It can be a real dilemma for some of us - and I train on a regular to be aware of my surroundings/potentially bad situations. What about the women who don't? I'm sure Joe Evildoer looking for a potential victim watches for things like tricky footwear, scarves or ponytails (to make grabbing from behind easier). Hmmm...Perhaps our footwear can make us potential victims by default, whether we train or not...

As for me, I'll be carrying my "girl" shoes in my bag from now on just to be on the safe side. How about you?

"Superfoot" in Atlantic City

2010-01-14T16:09:00.000-05:00

My dojo mates and I have traveled a bit over the past few months. Last weekend, we hit the road again for an awards banquet in Atlantic City where Sensei S and Sa Bom Nim Slader were honored. But before the banquet, there were a ton of seminars to sample and see - including this one I filmed of the legendary Bill "Superfoot" Wallace on kicking in sparring competitions (which became the very first video I ever posted on YouTube!):

After all the kicks were thrown, my son posed for a picture with Mr. Wallace and got an autographed photo. He also got to take picture with actor/martial artist Michael Jai White (of "Spawn" fame). Can you tell he was excited?

In addition to a pair of very heavy trophies, Sensei S and SBN Slader each received beautiful Samurai swords for their contribution to their respective arts. Here's Sensei S with his sword (still in the box):

We're not planning on any more group travel until the Susquehanna Martial Arts Symposium at end of March, which is good in a way. It's nice to travel and see new things, but it's also good to be home. Off to class!

2009: A Recap

2009-12-31T12:20:00.000-05:00

I admit it - last year this time, I was experiencing a bit of tunnel vision. Six months away from testing for shodan, my focus was on stepping up the intensity of my training without getting inured. I succeeded in totally exhausting myself, but it led to all kinds of introspective examination that forced me to view my training in a new light - all of which I am still able to draw on today. Of course it led to some other epiphanies, realizations and discoveries - all because I had training partners (like Ed pictured with me above) and instructors (thanks, Sensei S.!) who encouraged me to ask questions and not take "That's just how it's always been done" as an acceptable answer. To them I am most grateful.

Although the year ushered in some economic downturns, it has been a rich one in terms of what I've gained from the martial arts. Wasn't sure exactly what I was expecting after spring grading, but I definitely got much more than I bargained for, including:

* my first broken bone (ouch!)
* nostalgia over untying my brown belt for good
* contemplating karate 12-step programs
* new training routines
* seeing amazing karate practitioners earn their red belts
* competing and judging in some great tournaments
* connecting with some great female martial artists via their blogs

Here's to an equally incredible 2010! Happy New Year =)

My Feet Are KILLING Me...

2009-12-28T18:31:00.000-05:00

And sparring barefoot in the dojo is only making things worse.

I usta wear the dipped foam kicks to spar in, but they kinda squeeze my toes together and the plastic strap on the bottom make me slide all over the ring. I now wear cloth shin guards that have padding to cover my instep which provide lots of flexibility, but they leave my toes exposed. After a particularly foot-brutalizing round-robin sparring session on Tuesday night, I'm finding that exposed toes hurt when you kick something over and over again. I need a new solution for my feet, I think...

At a tournament I went to a few weeks back, I noticed lots of participants sparring in shoes with padded tops but that tied/fastened like shoes. I saw an ad in a karate magazine for the Ringstar shoes above and think I may have found something that works. They have suede bottoms that cover the entire bottom of the foot (no more sliding!) and they are easier to fasten (no more velcro that either comes undone or cuts off the circulation to my toes!) - heaven! Of course they are new on the market (so I don't know anyone personally who's tried them) and much more expensive than my $25 foam kicks, so I'm soliciting some feedback here.

Have you tried or know anyone who has tried them?

A Delicate Balance

2009-12-20T15:29:00.000-05:00

Fellow martial artist and blogger Michele posted a question in her "Just a Thought" blog a few days ago about black belts teaching. Should it be required? Is there a responsibility to "give back" to help keep the art alive? What is it about becoming a yundansha (black belt) that makes a karate student magically eligible to teach?

The school I came through the ranks in has no strict rules about teaching. In fact, many of us had led class stretching/warmup/kihon more than a few times by the time we'd become second- or first-kyu brown belts. There's no real instruction on how to lead the class though; your sensei just calls your name and asks you to start the warmup or demonstrate X technique. Let's just say we learned fast that there's a world of difference between being told what to do/how to do it and telling everyone else the same.

Three of us tested for shodan this past May and within a few weeks, we were all leading groups of under belts through kata, self-defense and sparring techniques. Although I love teaching and enjoy helping other karateka, what I found was that once the teaching started, the learning sorta stopped. But if black belt is really the beginning of training, how do you continue on a path that has become a bit obscured by the lessons you now give instead of the ones you get? Understand, I personally have no problems with giving back, but learning more in order to have more to give would be a great, too. Unfortunately, I had to go elsewhere to learn more - which is how I ended up with Sensei S since June.

Think about the instruction you've gotten and it isn't hard to see that some instructors are simply better than others. Just because you know a thing does not necessarily mean you can effectively explain how or why that thing is to others. Sensei S and I had a conversation about why this is the case. He's a very thorough instructor and has a knack for explaining things in logical, practical ways. When I asked him how he got to be such an instructor, he said he was fortunate enough to have instructors who taught him how to teach. Hmmmm...

So, an open letter to my other senseis would probably read like this:

Onegaishiamasu - please teach me - how to teach before you toss me into the lion's den to fend for myself. Baptism by fire might not the best instructor make. And please help me help others by continuing to teach me more about this incredible art. Teaching and learning probably shouldn't be mutually exclusive. Domo arigato goziamasu.

Stepping off my soapbox now...

History in Harlem

2009-12-15T11:46:00.000-05:00

In a junior high school gym in the Bronx last weekend, The Harlem Goju Association held its year-end promotions. Bigger than any they've had in recent years, 105 karateka fell in - at least 18 of whom were fourth-dan or higher. Grand Master Sam McGee - the head of the organization - said that all of the students in the first row had each been training with him for at least 30 years, evident by the white gis they wore to signify their rank.

There were no self-defense techniques, no tamishiwara, no sparring - just individual, group and demonstration kata. There were many highlights of the afternoon, but at one point, Master McGee called his youngest student out for kata. No more than four, she stood there in kioske and looked up at him, waiting for instruction on what to do next. Too humbling.

Being in that gym was like watching a "who's who" of USA Goju. In talking about how important the association has been to the community over the years - especially in providing free karate training to area families - Master Eddie Long spoke of a grand championship kumite match at the Manhattan Center in the 1970s where he was the center judge and Master McGee and Master Ernest Hyman were tied at the end of regulation. Master McGee blasted off the line to score the next "sudden death" point to win the match, but Master Hyman promptly ran off with the trophy! Classic stories like that remind you that although these great karateka have won championships upon championships and have taught more people than I can probably count, they are still mere mortals who put their pants on one leg at a time like the rest of us.

When the last certificate had been given out, Master McGee was in for a surprise of his own: after promoting the son of his late sensei, Major Leon Wallace, to 10th Dan, he was also elevated to the rank of 10th Dan. Never seen anyone get a red belt before, but seeing two folks tie on those belts in one day was pretty amazing.

Very happy I went and got a chance to witness history...

Paradigm Shift

2009-12-04T11:18:00.000-05:00

I'm not sure how "normal" is is to have more than one instructor, but I actually have four. The most I've trained with at one time was three, which seems like a lot, really. But there is a story behind it all.

I started Goju at my son's instructor - Sensei F's - invitation to just "try" it. Somehow, I think he knew I'd be hooked. But as my interest in this new thing grew, I felt kind of limited by the fact that Sensei F's class only met once a week. He graciously pointed us to a sister dojo one county over, whose head instructors - Sensei M and Sensei R - came through the ranks with him. Their classes met twice during the week on days that didn't conflict with my home class. Some things were done differently - especially in kata - which made me kind of scratch my head because the two schools were not only part of the same clan, but taught by folks who had been taught together. Hmmm. But my son and I - and later the training partners from our home dojo who eventually joined us for treks across the bridge - just adapted a "When in Rome..." attitude and acted accordingly. Consequently, we learned two different ways to do many of the self-defense techniques and katas we were required to learn. For almost four years we traveled and learned. We also asked questions that weren't always answered, but that's another story.

It's funny how the things you do seem perfectly sane while you're doing them. But now, the thought of doing the same techniques two different ways with both being accepted as "the standard" seems utterly ridiculous. And just when it seemed things couldn't get any weirder, we started traveling to yet another dojo.

Since the Tuesday/Thursday classes across the river kind of dwindle down to a trickle once summer rolls around (meaning that since Sensei M and Sensei R aren't around too much, you never know which guest instructor or shodan will be leading the class) and since the idea of going from three nights a week of class to one was not one I was willing to entertain, we took Sensei S up on his long standing offer to come train with him and his students as a way to supplement what we were already doing. My son, training partner Ed, and I have been traveling an hour each way twice a week since June to get to his class as a result. Although we couldn't continue to travel so far every Tuesday and Thursday once school began again, my son and I still make it at least once a week.

Trouble is that now, some of the information we're getting is starting to conflict with the information we learned way back when. I'm talking polar opposites in the basic, simplest techniques. Direct contradiction is not an overstatement. Again, same style and senseis who at least started with the same instructor - but the differences are astounding.

Last week, after he'd been being ridden by Sensei S like a Kentucky Derby horse over his stances and "floating" kicks, my son said he was upset about how some of the techniques were initially taught to him. Some things - like hand positions during sparring and kata bunkai - seem so ineffective and inefficient now, and even when he asked what the techniques were or why they were done a specific way, he said he got answers suggesting that those reasons had more to do with tradition rather than working what works. He really likes going to Sensei S's class because he gets those explanations - given in practical ways that make sense to him - before he is SHOWN how and why it works. I heard him during our conversation, but last night - when it was MY turn to be that Kentucky Derby filly - I totally FELT what he was talking about.

I've come to realize that much of what I've been taught up to June feels like a watered-down version of karate, which ain't good. And since I'm now teaching a little at my home dojo - and have been asked to teach it how I learned it - I find myself in quite the pickle. If I had to go elsewhere to learn that my techniques weren't effective, I now know that the people I'm teaching those very same techniques to will hafta re-learn them at some point - which they'll have to go elsewhere to do. If they don't, they may get their butts handed to them if they ever needed to rely on those techniques in a real, live situation. In effect, I'm contributing to the watering down by default. I can't be easy with that - which means I've got some decisions to make...

Moving on means I'll be back to one-night a week class at least until summer rolls around again, which is a bad thing. But watered-down is a bad thing, too. Is bad karate better than no karate? That is the question...

Tournament Time - Take Two...

2009-11-23T11:22:00.000-05:00

Off to another tourney this past weekend. This time it was downstate in NYC - Queens to be exact. Unlike a few weeks ago upstate, I did not compete and only judged kata, self-defense, weapons and kumite competition. But just like a few weeks ago, I learned a ton, met lots of incredible people and had a blast.

Judging an open tournament can be interesting. Because judges might not be familiar with the style or form presented, each competitor's attitude, focus, intent and body position all become uber important. So, no, Virginia, it's not the flashy splits, high kicks or glitter weapons that will make you champion, but do all that with rock-solid technique and it just might.

One of the first groups I graded was 6-9-year-old intermediate kata. There was one little lady who had amazing kicks and really knew how to move across the ring. But everything her kicks were, her punches were not. Each hand technique revealed bent wrists and sloppy form - almost like she was just putting her hands out there to get onto the next kick already. Apparently use to winning, she literally teared up when she finished third. The sifu sitting next to me spoke with her after she competed to suggest working on her hand techniques to improve her kata. She was polite and listened, but I'm not sure she heard him at all.

Next up was the 6-9 year old beginner boys weapon forms division. The only competitors were two brothers who each did a basic bo kata. The second brother was doing well until he dropped his bo about half-way through his form. He looked devastated, but he picked up his weapon and continued. When his brother was awarded the mondo winner's trophy (no joke, it was six feet tall) brother number two could only watch as his brother hoisted it up as best he could, threw and arm in the air and cheered.

Later in the day, my ring hosted the 18-34-year-old men's intermediate sparring division. Green and green-belt equivalents all, one competitor felt it necessary to speak to the center judge after his match. He said that, because he was hit in the head twice (competition rules allowed for absolutely no head or face contact in the underbelt divisions - but the contact had to be witnessed by two of the three ring judges), he should have been awarded the win over his opponent.

Although all of the competitors above were relatively new to martial arts, humility is a huge chunk of what being a martial artist is about. Budo dictates modesty and temperate attitudes at all times - even in sport karate. But perhaps, like everything else we do on the mat and in the dojo, humility, modesty and temperance all take work and time to develop. How to compete, win and lose with grace must be learned, just like an effective round-house kick or a reverse punch. They also have to be honed. Perhaps they should all be taught right along with those roundhouses and reverse punches.

But I also saw some stellar examples of temperance in action - like the 9-year-old whose glasses flew off in the middle of his form but who continued without missing a step. Or the 5-year-old who got kicked hard in the gut during a sparring match but got up, wiped his tears and finished fighting. Or the blind green belt in the intermediate women's 35+ division who had to be escorted into and out of the ring before and after she presented Empi Ha kata - a USA Goju brown belt form. Or the only two 35+ female black belt competitors who each gave lessons on presenting kata with Super Empi and Seiuchin. Or the many masters there with 20-30+ years of martial arts training under their belts who spent 10-12 hours judging forms and sparring yesterday, sharing their knowledge and taking a relatively new shodan like me under their wings.

Yep. I had a blast...

Six Months and Counting...

2009-11-09T16:31:00.000-05:00

Saturday marked six months since my shodan test. I made it memorable it by traveling to a karate tournament upstate with Sensei S. and some of my training partners.

The good thing about the tourney was that all black belt competitors were asked to judge the underbelt kata and sparring competitions, which concluded before the black belt competition began. I'd been a corner judge for point sparring matches before, but never for kata. With Sensei S. guiding me (he stepped out of a ring so I could jump in and get my feet wet) and some great experienced judges setting the tone, it went well - and I learned a great deal.

Karate competitions are one of the few places where people over 35 are considered "seniors." As any female senior who competes can tell you, there often are not loads of people to compete against. But, thanks to a tournament record turnout of black belts Saturday, there were seven female seniors presenting kata. One of only two non-Tae Kwon Do practitioners on the mat, I ended up finishing second to the woman who went on to win grand kata champion. My knees were literally shaking as I walked into the ring and my legs felt like they would just give out, I was so nervous! But I got through it - my first competition as a yudansha or dan (as opposed to a mudansha or kyu) - without any major flubs or rushing it, as I tend to do when I'm nervous.

Sparring went well, too. As is also usually the case, there weren't as many senior women who wanted to spar (only four), but, because competition kumite is really just a game of tag, my plan to be aggressive and "tag" first worked pretty well. I also got to work on my blitzing and moving off my adversary's center line.

I don't compete a lot - usually three times a year, tops - but each time I do, I enjoy it. I know it isn't really what karate is all about, but for me, the idea of going toe to toe with someone of unknown ability in a controlled environment forces me to think and strategize in a way that no other training does. With five judges watching every corner of the ring, I know there is only so much pain that can possibly be inflicted. Competing is about as close to a real life "dukes up" situation as I've ever experienced. I'm hopeful that through it, the idea of having to put my dukes up in a real situation won't be so totally foreign. I've only had one other fight in my life (in second grade with a girl named Terry Daniels; she pulled my hair, I pulled hers and it was over), so the only experience I'm getting at making this a little more innate is on the mat. In short, competition sparring makes me face my fear, which is anything but comfortable for certain.

And it's truly a blast, too! Never in a million years did I ever think I'd enjoy fighting, but I do. How strange is that?

Bruises and Boo-Boos and Breaks - Oh My!

2009-10-30T17:55:00.000-04:00

Last night, we got to do lots of round-robin sparring. Between rounds, I stood with one foot in front of the other, watching my dojo brothers and sisters. When I shifted to even my weight, I literally saw stars. Seems that somehow during the rounds, I'd broken the baby toe on my right foot. That's the injured and swollen digit above, tapped to the one next to it.

Of course karate is a contact sport and I know injury is often part of the game. Actually, my lip is a bit swollen today and my left knee is still a bit battered from stance work we did last week. Par for the course in the life of a martial artists, I suspect.

While we were taking off our gear, one of my training partners grimaced when she bent down. She'd gotten a bruise on her foot a while back and was quickly reminded of it when she reached for her bag. "Will we ever be whole again?" she joked.

Par for the martial arts course, I guess...

Afternoon with the Masters

2009-10-25T19:38:00.000-04:00

Sensei S. had a brilliant idea some months back: getting teachers who've influenced him over the last 30+ years together in one room to present seminars on martial arts. Last weekend, we got to soak up the fruits of his vision at the "Afternoon With the Masters" seminar at SUNY Purchase.

The five masters - S. Henry Cho Tae Kwon Do Sa Bom Nim Vernon Slader, American Karate Systems Master Kevin Thompson, Hapkido and Jee Do Kwon Tae Kwon Do Sa Bom Nim Walter Eddie, Zen-Do Kai founder Master Michael Campos and Chinese and Nisei Goju/Isshanryu Karate Master Khalef (Pete) Williams - have each studied their respective arts for at least 40 years - so, yep, they brought lots of knowledge to the table, for sure. Hard not to be immediately humbled when in the presence of such an amazing array of dedicated martial artists.

We worked lots of stuff in those four hours - including seemingly small things like stances, flexibility improvement and learning to kiai from the tanden. Between sessions, I scrambled to my notebook to jot as much info down as I could so I could work on it later in hopes of being better able to retain it. I'd had the distinct pleasure of working at other seminars with three of the masters my group was paired with - and was amazed at their knowledge and willingness to share it each time - but I have to admit that I'm still a little star-struck about actually meeting and working with SBN Walter Eddie. I mean THE Walter Eddie - O.M.G.!

Can you find me in the group photo above? I'm the wide-eyed karateka on the bottom right. My son is holding my shoulders to keep me from floating away :-)

A Question of Etiquette

2009-10-21T15:58:00.000-04:00

At the end of every class - right before rei - the sensei or the seipai always remind us of the three rules of every USA Goju dojo on the planet: everyone works, nothing is free and all start at the bottom - which brings me to the etiquette question burning in my mind today: If you are a black belt in say, Shotokan or TKD, what should you do with your obi if you decide to step on the mat in a Goju or Wado-Ryu class? It was my understanding that the practitioner should either:

1. wear his/her current rank but line up in the back of the class.
2. turn his/her obi knot to the back and line up in the back of the class.
3. ditch the obi altogether and line up in the back of the class or
4. don a white belt and line up accordingly.

Notice the trend?

Last night, a young woman who is about to test for nidan in Shorin-Ryu - but who has been coming to the college class gi-less for about a month or so - showed up in her Shorin-Ryu gi and black belt. She was allowed to line up directly behind the class shodans, which put her in front of some second and first kyus who have been training with Sensei F for four to five years or more. I got there just as we were falling in, so I'm not sure if she just arrived in gi and Sensei, out of respect for her rank, told her to fall in up front or what, but I'm pretty sure reishiki dictates that she should have deferred and respectfully lined up near the rear.

I really couldn't care less who lines up in front, but since Sensei F. always reminds the newbies in the back to look to the front row for guidance on how certain techniques are done, it seems like the front row should have folks in it who know what they are dong. Sure a front snap kick is a front snap kick, but kata is a whole 'nother ball of wax. And during the second half of class, any color belt in the room could have lead her through the kata she was working on/learning because it was a white belt kata not done in her style.

As summer was approaching last year, I toyed with the idea of studying a style like TKD to improve my kicking skills. I went so far as to sign up for the four free classes the dojang offered (although I later canceled due to some scheduling conflicts), but the idea of walking in to train in a new style wearing my black belt from my current style was never even a thought. I wouldn't wear my current rank to a Judo or Jujitsu class either, simply because I'm not a black belt in either of those styles.

At the summer dojo I finally settled in, a similar thing happened a while back: two students showed up to train who had black belts in other styles (Brazilian Jujitsu and Kung Fu), but lined up in back without even having to be asked. After about a month, the seipai pulled them aside and asked them to please start wearing their white belts to class. They've done so ever since...

Last night, I was the seipai - although I earned my shodan rank only five months ago. What do you think: is it time to channel my summer dojo's seipai and speak to our "new" black belt?

Kiai!: My First Time

2009-10-07T15:00:00.000-04:00

I’ve always been very physically active. In grade school it was kickball, tag and later, the middle school’s softball team (I played first base). As a freshman in high school, a few months after watching my uncle in the NYC marathon, I decided to give the track team a try. I ran and jumped my way right into an athletic scholarship, seeing the US and earning a B.A. without any school loans hanging over my head in the process.

Through career shifts, marriage, pregnancy and divorce, I kept competing (OK - I did take a year off when my son was born). In July 2004, I retired from the sport so I could work on my Master's and still keep up with my then 11-yr-old son. A few days after I started graduate school, I found a pea-sized lump in my right breast.

Thanksgiving break was spent recovering from a bilateral mastectomy with immediate reconstruction (which isn't quite so immediate, it turns out). In January, after watching my son do kata from the balcony of the dojo while trying to read my school assignments, I decided to take his sensei up on the offer to join the class. Since track had ended, I hadn’t even run to the refridgerator. I missed being active. I missed sweating.

And sweat, we did – thanks to the generous helpings of pushups, jumping jacks and ab work Sensei F. dished out. At least that was familiar – unlike the stances, katas and punching/kicking drills. I felt like the world’s least coordinated person for quite a while (which Sensei F assured me was totally normal), but it felt really good to hit something. Plus we were encouraged to scream loudly while punching and kicking. Physically yelling while pummeling a pad (or even a person :-) proved to be pretty darn therapeutic - and a whole lot cheaper than psychotherapy.

Three weeks before my last radiation treatment, I entered my first competition, (I wore a foam chest protector to keep the radiated skin from getting hit too much). A few days after - a Thursday - I remember getting really excited because Saturday - which had become "karate day" - was right around the corner. My passion for this new mind/body/spirit thing was ignited.

A few days ago (October 4), I celebrated my five year “cancerversary.” Through all the physical changes breast cancer brought, karate was the one constant, proving that I may have had cancer, but cancer didn’t really have me because I could do stuff that I’d never even tried before my diagnosis (seriously - how many of you had ever sunk into a cat, long or horse stance before karate?), so for me, breast cancer and karate will always be connected. I’m so glad I took off my shoes and lined up in the back of the class that day. If I hadn't, my bare feet probably wouldn't be on the path they're on now. And I probably would have never really appreciated how great a good, loud kiai is for the soul.

Since it is Breast Cancer Awareness, I'd be remiss if I didn't remind you about the importance of self-exams, clinical breast exams and mammograms. But before you go and schedule your appointment, tell me about your intro to MA. What was your first training session like?

Epiphany: "Distance" Karate

2009-09-28T12:15:00.000-04:00

Tuesday night at the dojo, we worked on ippon kumite self-defense technique "add ons." See, coming through the ranks, the 13 ippons we were required to know were taught to us one at a time - as in only one being done at a time. In the dojo this week, we worked on doing two and even three at a time - adding on, if you will.

"Remember," Sensei S. told us, "ippon kumite techniques are only ONE POINT techniques that are designed to defend from one thing: a straight punch to the face. So, after you've countered that, you've really only disarmed ONE of your adversary's weapons (limbs)." The idea, he continued, is to learn to keep attacking and finish until the adversary is neutralized.

OK - so this made sense to me. I jumped in and got to work with those extra empis, sternum strikes and shoulder locks - only to realize that I stopped the techniques just before my uke tapped out. So I started thinking and fell upon this epiphany: I ALWAYS stop before the person I'm doing the technique on can tap. Even when instructed to "stay the course" and keep the shoulder lock or arm bar on until the tap, I stopped just short. Always. What the heck is that about?!?

I know it makes no sense, but I think the idea of stepping into a technique to grab someone and take them down intimidates the snot out of me. Like every other little girl on the planet, I grew up on fairy tales like Cinderella and Snow White where the heroine was kind, gentle, giving and nurturing. Sure their gentle nature almost did them in, but in the end, it all worked out, right? I think that's my hope as far as self-defense goes. Perhaps I may even be a little afraid of hurting my adversary, which really makes no sense at all - so I talked to Sensei S about it.

He said that most likely, if I found myself in the wrong place at the wrong time or to protect my child, I'd do what I needed to do to save me/us, not the other person. My concern, of course, is that how I train will be exactly how I actually respond in the face of confrontation. But I'm not sure if that's even the real reason.

So here it is: truth be told, I don't want to be that close to someone trying to do me harm - and shoulder locks and empis to the gut, neck or jaw require intimately close contact. I'm 6'2" with a 41" inseam, so a hook kick to the head or any other wide, sweeping technique will net the same incapacitation that will allow me and mine enough time to get away - and is what I prefer. But Sensei S countered with the idea that an attacker won't really allow me the distance to pull such a technique off as he or she will insist on the closeness as a way to restrict and control.

The something new I learned this week is that I need much work on finishing what is started by an adversary. The learning curve here is huge - but at least the learning continues. Where I'll go from here with it is anyone's guess.

The "Art" of My Martial Art

2009-09-18T16:08:00.000-04:00

Before I ever stepped bare foot onto the mat, I watched my son train in karate for almost a whole year. Because I sat in the balcony of the gym while I watched, I got to see patterns of the katas the class worked on from a very unique perspective. Since I was also a graduate student with a ton of reading to do at the time, one of my eyes was always in a textbook - but when I finally did take Sensei up on his offer to give the class a try, I knew mostly all of the first form. It's amazing how much can actually be retained by watching something being done over and over again.

The first seven forms in our style have the same basic foot pattern - just different stances and/or hand positions - so once you learn the first, the next six come in short order. Although the bunkai was explained to me as I learned them, I think I was pretty much just going through the movements and placing my hands and feet where I was told they were supposed to be so I could get through this kata and onto learning the next. Then I saw one of my training partners present Geki-Sai dai Ichi and everything changed. As she moved through the stance and block changes, I could almost see her adversary - and I got it: Sensei F's adage about kata being "motion plus emotion" rang in my ear. The fluidity was fascinating! I didn't know how to make my body do that, but I knew I wanted to learn. Back to the beginning to tighten and refine.

Lately, kata work has been highly specialized. Of course the bunkai is emphasized, but so much more attention is paid to the seemingly subtle things like hand placement, staying "in the dance" and especially breathing timed with the movements. I'm finding that where I used to be thinking about the next move, I'm now thinking about how effective and efficient the move needs to be and what I need to do with my arms, my hands, my legs, my feet and my torso to make it happen. Once more, I'm finding a new need to take them all apart, refine, tighten and clean them up again. It sometimes seems like an impossibly large undertaking, but very necessary. There is always something new to learn for sure.

Each day, it seems that the adage about kata being the art of the martial arts makes more sense to me - and like any artistic endeavor, it takes time, energy and work to make it shine. A musician friend of mine refers to the honing of the skills for his craft as "shedding" - as in taking it apart, doing it and doing it again and learning how to do it better, all in the woodshed behind the house, which is how it used to be done back in the day.

Heading to the shed!