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.

A little abstract

It is expected that martial arts would teach you to fight. Or get you into better shape. Or to keep you coordinated. But there's also the part where it teaches you about differing temperaments. To understand different styles and methods to manipulate their results. Executing techniques at a subtle level and in a precise fashion. Then listening very, very closely for a result so as to take the next step.

It's like walking through a series of passageways. One which few people know exists. It has doors and windows that open and close. Sometimes at random and others by your own volition. Some are locked, but most simply appear that way. You’re just trying to get from one side to the other.

So what I’m really trying to say is that martial arts also makes you delusional. Thinking that you’ve experienced adventures which couldn’t possibly be real. :-p

Working with Juniors

I've had many opportunities to work with juniors in the past year or two. In part because of the surplus. In another part, because I have not been ready to test, so my time had to be occupied somehow. Any time on the mat is a chance to learn something new, but I was surprised as to what I learned by working with the juniors.

Since juniors have not typically been able to teach me as much, somewhere along the way I decided that I would be most entertained by playing games with them. Usually, I'll grab their leg as they walk away carelessly after pinning me. Or I often like to squirm out of a ground lock to show them that it wasn't completely working. Always fun, but somewhat linear. They know what I'm doing, expect me to do it and either react accordingly or just get used to saying things like "I should have seen that coming". That game mostly serves the function of telling juniors that I can't be trusted. A lesson that I wish they would learn sooner rather than later.

Recently I developed a new game which does something a little different. As the junior rank began to get better at Ukemi, I started finding it funny to throw them in increasingly wacky angles. Nothing too extreme, but a throw that requires some adaptation. Later, I would lead them away from the expected position only to see/hear/feel their response & then bring it back for them. Not surprisingly, they soon became capable of taking back their positioning once they felt it slipping away. Which is a pretty impressive feat! I'm not convinced that they know that they're doing it as they do it, but it's nice to see it happen nonetheless.

A gentle touch

I've spent the past few years learning that I'm a little too forceful. Often attempting to use force in place of finesse. Often relearning that I can get more out of a situation by being more gentle. The interesting part is that I see it and am motivated to change. On a regular basis, I have to remind myself to slow down. To change things and try again. I control frustration and change my approach.

To see growth in my Ju Jitsu would be exciting on it's own. But the part that amazes me most is how I see it in life. How I am now able to articulate the effects of my actions in a way that I couldn't before. How I consider recourses and solutions in a matter that never seemed like an option. I can see how some people can open doors that seem to be shut. It changes quite a few things. It shows me that I don't just need to get better at a game, I can change the way the game is played.

It almost feels as if I'm an architect with an elaborate plan that is my personality. I know what I want & how to get there, but the magnitude of the task is very large. Every day, I construct and evaluate. Tear down the obstacles. Construct and evaluate. I like that.

Injuries

It's a shame that people outside of those who train in something like this won't be able to understand. But yesterday, I felt as if my injuries (neck muscle & knee) were pretty much healed. I had a chance to stretch and it felt as if I was getting the routine back. Half an hour into the class, I felt like a puppy who has been let out of a cage.

On the team

There are great members of the team & then there are members that make the team great. No matter where you find yourself, it seems that the smart move is to try to switch things up from time to time.

Something new

Endurance training has been pretty weak for me in the last six months. I'm slightly better off than I was 3 months ago, but far worse off than 6 months ago. This really isn't where I want to be (in terms of fitness), but it does provide me with an interesting opportunity. A chance to act!

In the past few months, I've taken to the idea of doing everything uke or ukemi related as fast as I can and not giving myself (or anyone else) a chance to rest. Then as my heart and lungs race to keep up, sometimes all I can hear is the pounding in my head. It is then that I practice the most calm, patient and even bored look that I can put together. It was harder to do in the beginning, but I wonder what people see today. I feel more calm, relaxed and even bored while my body does things that it would do in a state of panic.

I'm not exactly sure where this will benefit me. I can imagine that if I relax my mind, my body will follow suit. I can also imagine that I may one day use this to bluff in a real fight. But for now, I can only tell you that it seems like it would have value somewhere. And it's a fun personal challenge to make use of my current physical condition.

Training

Training for me is a lot like being a child in a toy store. I see all of the fancy things and I want them. The more time I spend there, the more things I want. This in turn, keeps me around for longer and so it is a self fulfilling & positive cycle.

Forcing myself to train when I lack the time & actual energy to do it properly is a lot like being a poor child in a toy store. I still see the same fancy things and I want them just as badly as I always have. But I understand that the investment is greater than what I can afford. So I crave them from a distance with a heavy heart.

Ultimately, I know that I can weather the storm and that this feeling won't last forever. But from this perspective, it's not hard to see why a martial artist might want to be in it all the way or not at all.

Reflecting

I've been at this for a few years now and some moments have given me a larger chance to grow than others. Even in the moments where I didn't feel too much of a change, there was at least incremental growth. Lately, I have only been able to grow achieve this kind of growth. An adjustment here or greater fluidity there. I have not plateaued, but I am stuck. I say this because I realize that I am unwilling to let go of what I think I know in order to learn something else.

I often tell myself to soften up and even try to soften up. But in the back of my mind, I can feel it. I know that if things go sour, I'm going to pump as much strength into that technique as I can to finish it effectively. Clean or ugly, proper or otherwise. And I'm sure that's not altogether a bad thing. If I were in danger and knew only what I know now, it would be the smartest thing to do.

But I also know that this mindset keeps me from getting softer. If a technique goes sour, there is a way to become soft enough to make it work. To actually improve the technique by being softer. I only know that it exists, but I don't really know how to get there. At least not yet.

I'm not sure how I'm going to pull it off. Nor how many reminders I'm going to need! But I think that's a crucial step in my training. It's the next step.

Plateau - revisted

In my last blog about plateaus (Aug, 2008), I was able to distinguish what made a technique effective by understanding how the parts fit into the whole. With that, I figured out what was missing. Since then I've learned to use that as an analytical tool to find the flaws in my technique. Not surprisingly, I adapted it to find flaws in other people's techniques and nowadays I shift my balance or squirm away from them regularly. Sometimes it is to teach them, sometimes to protect myself and almost always to entertain myself! :) Luckily, the three are not mutually exclusive.

I have plateaued again. I find that I often hold onto too many things at once. As a result, I cannot process information fast enough. So, this time around I've learned that my most useful tool is to let everything else go. If I am consistently unable to correct my posture, then I will make that my point of focus in the next turn. Often this will translate into the temporary lessening of another skill. Occasionally it will render the entire technique ineffective and it will leave me in a compromising position. This is an acceptable loss.

When I find myself in that situation, I then do the exact opposite. That is when I hold onto my training as tightly as possible. I focus on as many things as possible and I do something (anything) to get out of that bind.


I can't explain why, but this feels like it will be paramount in my training. I think it is a good idea to be able to let everything go - even your strengths - when they are holding you back. I also think that it is good practice to attempt to put it all back together as quickly as possible.

Ice water

It's hard to believe that I've only had my feet in a bucket of ice for the past four minutes. It feels like I've been in this position forever!! I guess this should be a testament to how little I've been injured in the passing months. However in training for the upcoming Kanreikai Karate tournament, things are different.

The only thing that I can take from this is that not all of the efforts for martial arts are seen on the mat.

Tomoe Nagi

Woah! I love the way that this guy does Tomoe Nage! I would steal this technique if I could!

Good to be back!

It feels great to be in training again without all of those injuries. While I never stopped taking classes altogether, the injuries prevented me from Ukeing too often. They also prevented me from attacking with as much emphasis as I would like. For the most part I would attack but at all times I was more concerned with being in a position to take perfect ukemi.

Now that my body is almost entirely healed, I will focus again on clean and strong attacks. Even when I was injured, I would always ask myself if I can get out of the ground lock and if so, how? To begin with, I plan on going back to my usual squirming out of lose ground locks whenever they should occur. However, in the past, I would squirm out and just peek up at my attacker to let them know that it was possible. I now wonder if I should add a little something to that.

When I squirm out, I'm thinking of pushing or pulling a person off balance if possible. I'm also considering the idea of pushing/pulling the torre off balance as a means of getting out. I should note that my plan would be mainly to counter senior students or maybe even some junior students who might benefit from it. I wouldn't use this as a standard policy for every student on the mat.

Preparing for Sankyu

I have one hand in a bucket of ice and the smell of Bengay on my shoulder is potent enough that it manages to distract my attention from the ice. At any other juncture in my life I would take that as a sign that something is very wrong. Instead the pain is a reminder of my effort and I just feel satisfied.

I'm changing as a result of Ju Jitsu.