On One Foot

... So there I was running along the grassy median, ostensibly to provide extra protection for my joints, when I stepped off the curb and... owww! 


And being a True Warrior, the second thought to enter my mind--the first is unpublishable-- was " Damn! Rohai!".


Now, for all of you non-Shorin Ryu-people out there, Rohai is the name of a Tomari-te Shorin-ryu kata. Its name means something like "Vision of a Crane". You know. The kind with feathers.


The Crane is one of the Five Animals of Southern Chinese Kung Fu and Chinese Medicine. Okinawan karate is an amalgam of a native Okinawan fighting called "Te" and Kung Fu transmitted through forms or "katas" that arrived on the island from China via travelling merchants.


Anyway, the point is that the signature move of this kata is a pullback into a one-footed stance. What goes up must come down, so the foot we lift has to get back to the floor. For that, we have basically two choices: the smart way and the lazy way.


The smart way is to bend the knee of the supporting leg, loading it like a spring, and to gently place the foot down. The lazy way is to slam the foot down as quickly as possible and get on it. 


Guess which way most of us do it.


Now guess how I injured my foot when I stepped off the curb.

Today's workout involved a bit of Passai and, needless to say, a lot of Rohai. I was pretty limited in  turning and direction changes because of the pain in my left foot, but I figured it was worth it to do it slowly and reinforce doing things the smart way as opposed to the lazy way.


And then I noticed it. It had never occurred to me that all four times in the course of Rohai that we do that one-legged stance, we raise the right foot and use the left as the supporting leg-- which hurt, by the way, but that is not the point. 


The point is that I can do Rohai from now until Tuesday and not learn to lower myself by bending my right leg so my left leg will land softly. That kind of learning doesn't cross from one side of the brain to the other. I either have to do a mirror version of Rohai that forces me to reverse my stances (as if I am aware of when I use my left and when I use my right) or find some other section of some other kata that helps me reinforce the right habit.


And that's one heck of a bad habit to tackle. As a right-footed runner, I have lived my entire life pushing off with my right and leading with my left. As a new runner, I haven't slammed down my left foot and caused myself nearly enough pain to have learned my lesson that way. Not yet, at least.

So what's the solution? Just unmitigated, unrelenting mindfulness? AGAIN?? Just sort of makes me want to bury my head in the sand... But that's a bird of a different feather...

Lightning, Thunder, Wanshu

Last night, inspired by my work on Washite, I set about the task of working on Wanshu. This was kind of a big deal for me because there are some significant differences between the Kishaba Juku way of doing Wanshu and the way I originally learned it. It felt like one of those neglected closets  that you keep promising yourself you'll get around to straightening out someday. Someday had arrived.


Armed with the video above, I walked up to the dojo and went to work. Ah, that opening move! As most often happens with me, I understood and appreciated what that perfect storm of not-so-hidden moves was meant to accomplish. Elbow, palm heel, grab, reverse direction, turn and downblock. I finally got into a rhythm of executing that series, on the right side and the left side, over and over. As I worked on developing it into some kind of flow, another flow began: a deluge of rain, complete with thunder and lightning. So, now, I was practicing and mopping up, practicing and mopping up.


And in walks Abi, more than a little damp, to join me for a workout. 


I showed her what I was working on. The strange dramatic yoi that seems to leave the ribs vulnerable to attack. Elbow, palm heel, grab, reverse direction, turn and downblock--- all while standing on one foot. I showed her the rest of the kata and explained the points of difference between what I had originally learned and what I was trying to do. Then ,we got into a kind of free- association. In what other katas do we meet similar situations: standing on one foot with dramatic arm movements that might provide more off-balance opportunities for elbows, backfists, palm heels, grabs. 


We got into the opening moves of Pinan Shodan, the work with the backfist that I had been doing in my previous workout and whether the elbow might also be useful in application. 


Then we started working on Rohai with all its dramatic one-footed stances and what the "hidden" arm and hand work might be there. That led us to a new discovery--- that Abi had never learned how to move through the center in Rohai in order to generate power for all those fancy moves. We started with that and then went back to the section of Pinan Shodan that leads to the kicking and punching series and worked on generating power for the kicks by angling the kosa-dachi so the back knee catches the ligament on the inside of the front knee.


The rain ended before our session did. I noted the places where drops had leaked in and started thinking about how to seal the vulnerable areas. I already know what it will take to seal what I learned into my body and mind. Practice, practice... did I mention "practice"?


And thus I closed the closet door on Wanshu for the night.

Washite: Holding On, Letting Go

Thank God there are people around like Christopher Caile, the editor of FightingArts.com. He is a connoisseur of traditional martial arts, a dedicated student of Internet technology and, in terms of stubborness, at least, more than a match for the elusive George Donahue. That is the only explanation I can offer for the number of articles he has managed to squeeze out of George on a number of practical and fascinating subjects related to the martial arts.


For today's workout, I re-read the article: The Martial Grip- Washite, the "C" Grip by George Donahue. 

In his article, George explains that washite ("wa•shi•te, rhymes with “laundry day” and means, literally, “eagle hand”") is one of the martial arts' most useful gripping techniques. Featured  in numerous kata, including Rohai, Wanshu, and Passai,  washite is often called a "C" grip, because it looks like the letter "C".

From the side, basic washite, with fingers together, looks like a “C.”	Basic washite, “C” grip, palm view.

Washite's open grip allows us to use leverage and focused force to convert our hands into something like the kind of can opener used to punch a triangular hole in the top of a can. It also allows us to change the fulcrum and leverage points from the thumb to the finger tips and back again ( can you spell p-a-i-n?) or to pair  only one or two finger tips with the thumb and free the other fingers to attack other pain points.

In terms of attack, Washite can be used to drill into vital nerve points, separate muscle from bone and connective tissue, and apply leverage to limbs. Logical, right? 

But it also has another function, he says. It helps us let go.

George writes: "When we grab someone with vigor or urgency, we invest a lot of ourselves in the grab. We tend to hold on for dear life, even when it’s counterproductive to do so. If and when it becomes clear to us that it would be better to let go, there is always a delay that’s proportionate to the intensity of the grip—the release is often dangerously slow. 

Interesting isn't it? I find it natural to associate the martial arts with power and tenacity. Yet, in some respects the closed fist is weaker than the open hand. And, just as learning how to "hang on" is a warrior skill, so is it a warrior skill to learn how to let go.

So tonight it's Rohai, Wanshu and Passai, learning how to hold on and learning how to let go.