Breathing techniques to switch gears

I'm at the point in my training where the body has some idea of what to do.  There are some processes already built in.  They need to triggered, monitored and refined; but they exist.  The challenge now, is to invoke them.

This past Sunday, we were working some striking drills.  I was doing a 3 punch, 1 kick combination and I was exerting one quick breath per strike.  It's my preferred breathing technique when striking (and when I remember to breathe)!

Then, I was asked to do all four strikes with a single breath.  Not surprisingly, the strikes that were strong just seconds ago, did not feel as strong.  However, I did notice that the kick was coming in much cleaner because the strong cross wasn't keeping me so far away.  I also noticed that the strikes flowed much more nicely into one another.  After maybe five or six combinations with a single, prolonged, breath each;  I had caught my breath.

Then, I revisited the idea of doing the combination with one breath per strike.  This time I found that my strikes were much stronger than they had been as I was losing my breath.  They were not as smooth as a single breath combination, but they were smoother than when I showed up to class.

It feels as if I've found a sustainable method for using my breathing to switch gears.  With each side showing me something useful and different about striking combinations.

YouTube Street fights

I normally don't like watching street fights on YouTube. At the same time, I have to admit that they've definitely helped my training.  Mostly they involve several people surrounding one person who doesn't want to fight, then one, or all of them begin to strike.  It's instructional in the sense that it shows you just how cruel people can be.  Also, it will give you a clear, real-world picture of what our training aims to emulate.
 
Ironically, our multiples always seemed a little silly to me until I watched these videos.   All of a sudden, I saw it as a very important part of our workout.  If you watch a few of them, you'll quickly find that the victims often do not follow some (or all) of these ideas.

• Be aware of who is around you.
• Don't allow anyone to stand directly behind you.
• Move out of the center.
• Don't expect to be treated with mercy.
• If you have to interact with an attacker, do so for only long enough to help you get away.
• Don't be afraid to run.

In general, do the exact opposite of what the movies do. I suggest that any new student who has been around for at least six months and has not yet done so to seriously sit down to study those videos.  You'll get a lot more out of your training when you can conceptualize what it is that you're training to attain or avoid.

I taught a class!

Tonight, I taught class!  I had just finished telling the new white belt that we just do not cancel class.  I stubbornly repeated the word 'never' until she stopped asking.  Then no one else showed up! 

I did have only one student and even with that one student, I was perfectly ok with skipping rolls altogether for fear of hurting her knee & just letting one of the Sensei correct it another time.  That said, I think I managed to do a good job with the rest of class.  It went like this:

• Solid stretching and warm up routine
• Ukemi; crucifixion, side-fall, back-fall, face-fall, (no rolls) 
• Special attention to breakfalls 
• Nikkyu from a same side wrist grab
• O Soto Gari from judo grab
• Koto Gaeshi from a cross hand wrist grab
• Ippon Seoi Nagi from judo grab
• Uchi komi of Ippon seoi nagi
• Ikkyu from a cross hand wrist grab.

I focused on making the technique better than the way I found it, but was quick to switch away when attention to detail became excessive criticism.  All in all, I'm not nearly ready for the role, but I'm very happy with the way that I handled today.

Separately, I considered promoting myself to Supreme Shihan Master and redesigning my uniform to include two blackbelts worn crisscross over my gi (Mexican Bandito Style) but opted against it.  If left again to my own devices, I will revisit the idea.

Talking about Martial arts

For years, I've found it impossible to articulate why I love doing martial arts, yet hate watching others do martial arts.  Today, it seems so obvious that it should have never eluded me.  That's how it is sometimes.

It is said that you do not truly know someone until you fight them.  I think that this is a gross exaggeration.  Or at the very least, an idea expressed by people with such limited interpersonal skills, that fighting is the only real way to understand those around them.  Yet, while I disagree with the absolutism of it, I also firmly believe that it's grounded in reality.

One can learn a lot about themselves when put into impossible, no-win situations.  How did we react?  Did we give up?  Did we work harder?  Did we try something new?  Did the pain, or the exhaustion or the fear diminish our work?  Or did it make us push harder?  The questions are endless, ever changing and highly indicative of character. 

The same is true when learning about an opponent. We see them in many of the same positions we've found ourselves.  Often enough, we were the ones who put them there. We cultivate a sensitivity to identify and exploit weakness.  Sometimes we use it to teach, warn or help.  Other times we use it to fight.  But there is a rich, interpersonal, unspoken conversation that happens on the mat.  One which has taught me things in a few short years that I did not otherwise see in my lifetime.

Inversely, watching martial arts or discussing techniques lacks all of that.  Even amongst two martial artists, it is a poor substitute.  Much like discussing a beautiful symphony, it's a nice way to hold onto the memory; but the conversation will never compare to the music.

The same discussion/spectacle - when had with a non-martial artist - is the polar opposite of the experience on the mat.  The spectator is desensitized.  Often unable to empathize because they could not possibly understand the experience.  The spectator does not learn any more about themselves or anyone else.  They do not build something special.  They watch, criticize, often attempt to validate one side (though they lack the position for their validation to matter) and they attempt to live the experience vicariously.


This is the first time that I've articulated any of it.  I wonder if I'm being too hard on the spectator.  Or if I'm giving too much credit to martial artists at large, who may mostly be thinking "I get to hit people!", but as of now, this feels accurate.

Training never ends

The training never really ends.  Not just throughout the course of life, but even throughout our day.  But rather than explaining how training relates to the rest of life, it's just easier to look at how it relates to other training.

I go to the gym to spin.  Both to rehab a bad knee & to gain (much needed) stamina for an upcoming test.  So in this way, training in the gym is strongly tied to the dojo for me.  This morning the A/C was completely off.  I realized, but I'm used to it (from dojo) so I didn't give it much thought.  About 10 minutes into my workout, I realize that the whole gym seems to be in slow motion.  Breaks are longer than usual & no one is doing very much.  Also, I notice a change in myself. I normally upshift & downshift regularly to get he most out of my workout; and I do it more by feel than by formula.  At this point, I should have already transitioned to a higher resistance.

Then, several things hit me at once.  Firstly, most people cannot train when their environment has shifted.  They were a lot like bees in the Fall.  Seemingly sleepy & woozy, unable to get a grip.  I have the benefit of having trained in significantly more intense temperatures.  So I understood that the feeling would be different this time.  I just have to keep my posture, control my breathing and push harder than I'm used to.  Or to phrase it more abstractly; in order to control the situation, I would firstly, and wholly need to be in control of myself.

Secondly, I've wondered for weeks why my stamina is increasing regularly on the bike, but barely increased on the mat.  It shouldn't surprise me that the answer was again in my breathing.

Training off the mat

I've often said that I would walk around with a tinfoil hat if it would make me better at Ju Jitsu.  It seems so extreme that it can only be a joke.  But I remember that I started saying that when I was training for my Sankyu test. In the entire month or two before the test, most days included ibuprofen and ice packs, which was new for me.

Since then, I've been overloaded with work & have not trained as intensely as I would have liked.  I've lost a substantial part of my stamina & strength.  For at least the last year, training has included making due with what I have.  It sounds easy enough, except it has been an exceptional lesson in humility.  Now, I need to ramp up for my Ikyu test. My lessons in humility alone won't get me through it.

A struggle with an injured knee has put a fork in the road.  I can either spend a substantial amount of time training off the mat to rehabilitate the knee, while pushing for stamina.  All the while taking as many classes as my schedule & my knee can handle.  Or I can stop doing Ju Jitsu for a while until this injury subsides.  Which might be as little as a month.

So, I've spent the last seven weeks spinning (on a stationary bike).  I couldn't really stand the idea of it at first.  It seemed like a monotonous exercise with little variation or excitement.  And in the beginning, it was exactly that.  But my lessons in humility did teach me to start from zero.  To focus on my breathing & posture.  To work through the frustration & to keep an eye on the bigger picture.  The past few days have brought some of the most intense workouts I've had in months.  My muscle tone is finally at the point where I can work out enough to push my stamina.  And my knee feels better than it did in months.  Classes still make it sensitive & sore, but spinning brings it back quite nicely.

Switching it up

I was working with an unnamed, rambunctious junior and things were going pretty smoothly. Body throw, ground lock, release. Body throw, ground lock, release. After a few turns, it became routine and neither of us was really thinking about it too much. Neither was resisting and each movement felt like it was done with textbook precision. It's one of those times that you want to show it off and say this is Ju Jitsu!

Then, I thought to myself; I know what would be really funny. I had spotted a weakness in the way that she turns me onto my stomach. My elbow isn't in danger! I can pull it towards me, put my arms up to protect my face and just stick my tongue out at her! A master plan.

Sure enough, as she tries to turn me over, I wait for the weakest moment. Before she knew it; I am again on my back & my arms are protecting my face. I found her weakness & by the time she realized, it was too late. I'm just about to reveal that I'm taunting her by making eye contact, when I feel a heel kick plunge into my stomach! I let out a loud grunt. She had found my weakness & exploited it before I knew what was happening. Very well played.

Immediately after, we both burst out laughing. Sensei Maria had seen the whole thing & we could hear her laughter just as loudly. It had been a good lesson for me and an obvious testament to her ability. My point though, is that it is important to remember that this exchange was not what happens in the absence of Ju Jitsu. It isn't a separate thing that we do when things don't go our way. This is Ju Jitsu.