Lessons from Silence

I can't speak. Really. 

I had something brewing in my throat BEFORE I spent four hours teaching self-defense to a group of 30 Immigrant and Volunteer Soldiers in a northern base. And then I taught them to break cement blocks. I stood next to each one of them, running through the physical technique, getting them to YELL, yelling with them as they raised their fists and, then, shrieking with joy as each one shattered her block and, along with it, her illusions of what her limitations were. 

As I drove home, I tried to make a phone call. My voice was gone.

The next morning, still no voice. I taught again. Two hours. I whispered my way through it. As the day went on, I starting feeling worse and worse. I headed for bed. In the morning, I still had no voice... but I also had zero energy, total body ache, a headache and my cough was worse. So much for the flu shot.

I woke up this morning feeling better but still, no voice. I was supposed to teach at a Shorin- ryu Family Seminar-- the first ever, today and tomorrow. I couldn't even make the apologetic phone call. My husband did that for me.

No voice.

Now, let's assume for a moment that I was a "normal" karate instructor. From a "normal" style. Teaching a class without a voice would be do-able. Definitely. In fact, in some ways, it would be an advantage. I could just strut up there confidently, do the first few moves of a form or grab some unsuspecting student ,indicate that they should punch, intercept and twist them into a pretzel. Maybe once. Maybe twice. And then, mouth the words: "Do that." In Japanese.

Several rounds. Walk around. Make a few wordless corrections like grabbing someone's hand to say: "Right hand, not left" or pushing them into their opponent to say "Move in".

And make them do it over and over again. Change partners. Over and over. Throw in some serious calisthenics. Watch from the front.

Fake it the whole way. Two hours would fly by like nothing.

And you know what? They'd love it. I'd be hailed as a true master--- since I had mastered the typical Japanese model of instruction.

But I would feel like a jackass.

Without being able to explain, without being able to adapt to the mentality and well as the physicality of the students, without creating analogies that could help them recreate the feeling of the mechanics of their own bodies--- what would I have done? Given them a few new ideas? A little karate-based entertainment. Maybe.

But I would not have lived up the the example that my teachers have given me. 

I find it very challenging to represent my teachers in the public arena. I know that, at best, my karate is a pale shadow of theirs. But I feel if I can stimulate a fraction of the excitement I feel when I manage to pick up some minor piece of what they are trying to teach me, then I have will have done something amazing. 

So, like my teachers, I use the entire toolbox: demonstration, analogy, explanation, cognitive behavioral therapy, black humor, whip-and-chair, carrot-and-stick...anything. As long as it works. 

While my physical workout suffered this week--- illness this time--- my  mental and emotional workout was in full swing all week. Preparing for this seminar. That I can't attend. Because I have no voice.


Karate would be so much simpler for me if all I thought it was a couple of hours of calisthenics and permission to whack people. Teaching would be so much easier for me if I didn't have such incredible role models to imitate. And life would be so much easier if I thought that No One was watching. 

But I know better. And that makes all the difference.

.

Minimizing Maximizing

I would like to blame last week's lack of training entries on my sore foot ( that might cover me for the first half of the week), but the fact is that the only thing I can blame it on is my schedule. And THAT I can blame on a couple of my personality quirks.


I Am A Maximizer: I can not run an errand without trying to figure out how many additional errands I can run along the way and back. If I have 10 minutes before I have to leave, I have to do nine-minutes worth of tasks to fill the time. And, apparently, I can't drive all the way to Ashkelon to teach self-defense for two hours and not agree to teach another two-hour class while I'm there... even though I am already scheduled to teach two more classes--- one hour each, later in the day.


Faced with an opportunity for a quick and easy fix of efficiency, I forget about the driving, the preparation for each class and everything else. I forget that I need and deserve time to stop, to reflect, to meet my own needs. My practice time is almost always one of the first "needs" to fall by the wayside.


I lost my next best chance to work out to my difficulty in saying "no". Someone begged me for a favor. I was good; I said no. Then she begged and pleaded. So I gave up an entire Thursday preparing a lecture, driving 2.5 hours to the Dead Sea, giving a one hour lecture/class to 12 terrific women (not "80" as previously predicted) and driving home- a mere 1 hour and 45 minutes this time. 


Fortunately, sometimes my personality quirks work in my favor. 


Last Thursday, for instance, after I finished working out alone, one of my students called and asked if she could come by to work out with me. I was tempted to say no. I was tired. It was cold and rainy... But how could I say "no" to a student who wanted to work out? So I worked out a second time that day. 


Then, last night, several of my students were free for a workout so, being a true Maximizer, I finally got around to sweeping and washing the dojo aka porch floor and started working on hanging mirrors and other maintenance tasks I had failed to address during the week. And then we worked out for an hour and a half. Targeting, shield work and takedowns. All the things that I never get to do when I work out alone.


All of this reminds me of this past summer when I went to George's house to hang out and work out. One of the MANY corrections he made was to watch out for winding up. That tendency to pull your shoulder a little further back, push the elbow behind the body, wind the arm around behind your neck or throw the upper body into your kick. All that, just to get "the feeling of more power". I say "the feeling of more power" because there are much more efficient ways to produce power--- arches, compression and torque to name a few--- that don't put you at risk by slowing you down or dropping your guard.
That "little extra pull back" may seem efficient, but, in the end, falling into that habit  robs you of the opportunity to explore much greater sources of power.


So I really need to get those mirrors up on the wall so, when I work out alone, I can catch myself when I wind up. And apparently, I need to hang a  mirror in my mind so I can see myself when I begin to relapse into my habits of over-scheduling, under-valuing my worth, my time or my peace of mind. 

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...

6 Steps To Running Like A Warrior

When I took my run yesterday, i was reminded of how completely things can change. For the last 40+ years of my life, I have been telling people how much I hate running. I played all kinds of sports, but running? Not for me. "I only run to things and away from things," I would say. 

Then, this Spring, at the age of 52, I started running and I have been running three-times-a-week ever since.

Basically, the truth is that I never understood what running was. I thought it meant racing a stopwatch to meet some arbitrary standard. Or pushing yourself with your lungs exploding so you wouldn't be teased the way the last kid in your class to cross the finish line always was.  

This Spring I discovered that running, with a warrior mindset, can be an addictive and healthy personal challenge. It requires no special preparation, has meditative qualities and can do wonders for lifting your mood and working off stress.

So here are six lessons I have learned for running like a warrior:

1) Start Slow: I followed the Easy 12-Week Walk/Run Program! GET ACTIVE! and found it easy and satisfying. Whenever I missed a run or if I didn't feel ready to move on, I took the time I needed to stay on track and within my limits.

2) Consider Barefooting It: I fell in love with Vibrams Five-Fingered Shoes after buying my first pair for practicing karate outdoors. Then I went to Al Derech Burma and tried on my first Komodo Sports. I stood up and practically ran out of the store with them. Vibrams free your feet and allow you to use muscles in your feet and legs you never knew you had. 

3) Try Nasal Breathing: Are you a natural overachiever like me? Then try doing your runs while breathing only through your nose. This will leash your natural tendency to overdo and stimulate your parasympathetic nervous system, calming the mind and rejuvenating the body.

4) Think Form: As in the martial arts, good form maximizes efficient use of power and minimizes the chance of injury. Keep your head slightly tilted forward, eyes on the horizon, shoulder blades down, hands unclenched, lats dynamic and body upright. Shorten your stride to get maximum use of your body's large muscles- the quads, hamstrings and glutes and minimize pressure on your knees and lower back. Lift your knees only as high as you need to to keep moving forward and keep them soft (i.e. slightly bent) always, always, always.

5) It's About Time: I run for time, not for distance. Running for time means I can run and walk as hard or as soft as I like, uphill or down, wherever I choose. It means i can pay attention and adjust to how I feel. It keeps my eyes on the prize, a long-term commitment to my physical and mental health, and not on pushing myself or competing with others. 

6) Make It a Discipline: Making running a regular part of my life, with plenty of rest and room to adjust to my ups and downs, has added a great deal to my life in general and to my warrior identity in particular. Karate is primarily an anaerobic activity, the eye of a hurricane punctuated by powerful explosions of motion. Running, at least the way I do it, is practically the definition of aerobic . Practicing karate is all about concentration and the details. Running is the "big picture" to music. Maintaining the balance between these two disciplines, helps me maintain my inner sense of power in balance.

The third part of this triad, meditation, I will discuss at a later time.

Getting Past The First Move

First of all, allow me to introduce you to the newest member of Dojo AISH. I used some pre-workout energy today building this eminently punchable being on the basic plan that I featured in the last posting with a few twists.


First of all, I already had a small punching bag hanging from our speed bag platform. I just dressed it up with an old jacket. As I was filling the arms with old newspapers, I decided that something in lieu of a bone structure might be helpful for arm bars and such. I took a thick cardboard roll, similar but heavier and longer than the kind you find in paper towels. I cut it in haf and then divided each half into an upper- and lower-arm by cutting most of the way through but not separating the parts.Then, I filled the arms and gloves with bunched-up newspapers and taped the gloves to the arms.
Presto! Instant Bad Guy.


I started out the more official part of my practice day on a wobble board. A wobble board, in my case, is two boards joined together unevenly along their lengths. You can also make one by wrapping tape thickly around each end of a 2 X 4. The idea is to make a standing surface with limited stability. If you stand on it and strike without centering and lowering your center of gravity, you fall off.


The wobble board/ Training Buddy combo was equally satisfying and humbling.

Then, as I was practicing kata, I occasionally wandered over to my New Friend to try combining striking and grabbing techniques from the kata. Hey, its not as much fun as twisting a student's arm and a takedown but, hey, you can't beat the patience and availability, not to mention the quiet :-).


Kata practice today was a mixture of Fukyugatas, Pinans and Wanshu. Still working on picking up the new material on Wanshu and then transposing the lessons learned to lower kata. For example, in Fukyukata Ni (Geikisai Dai), that sweeping, dramatic shuto-uchi sword strike on each end of the kick-elbow-downblock-punch combo? Well, with a little imagination, it can start out as an elbow strike and do all kinds of nasty things on the way to its ultimate destination. Try it and see.


Meanwhile, as I was watching more of George's videos, I started calculating how much time was spent on the First Moves of the katas. Sometimes when I work out with the Kishaba Juku crew, I get the feeling that we will never get past the first move. And, if the first move is so bad that it needs 3 hours of work, how good can the rest of the kata be?


Then it came to me. If you can't beat'um, join 'um. So i finished up today's session just practicing opening moves for each kata, full speed, full power, first on the left and then on the right. 


Try it yourself. I'll be doing more of that for my next session so I should have plenty to say about it next time.

You Too Can Be Replaced... By An Old Coat

Always searching for new training ideas, I was online Googling do-it-yourself training equipment when I came across the following creative idea posted by D'Arcy Rahming, Senior Instructor at Modern Bujustu Inc. Miyama Ryu. Now, I don't know Mr. Rahming and I am not familiar with his art.

However, I love the simplicity and creativity of his "homemade training partner". And I truly appreciate his generosity in offering his guide to training alone, including the following "training buddy" directions, for free on his site.


Deep bow (((((((, Rahming-sensei.

How To Build Your Own Training Buddy

What you need:
• An old coat
• A sturdy hangar with a swivel neck
• A pair of shoes
• A soft rubber ball
• A pair of gloves
• A tree, pole or ceiling hook
• Some newspaper or old clothes for stuffing the various parts of the coat


How to build your buddy:
Tie or sew the gloves to the coat. Lightly stuff the sleeves with newspapers or old clothes and stuff the gloves to add some bulk to them. Put the rear legs of the chair in the shoes. Hang your buddy from a pole, tree or ceiling.  You can also use electrical tape to identify vital areas of the body. 


So go ahead. Practice your striking techniques. Work on accuracy and speed. The swiveling hanger will alway your buddy to turn so be ready for counterstrikes.


Now that you are striking, try following up with a wrist break:

Then, how about adding some joint locks?

Your training buddy won't resist like real-life training partners often do, so injuries should be rare to nonexistant. It will be ready and willing if you feel like training early in the morning or late, late at night. And you can work out with it as often as you like. It will never complain.


Now, THAT will be a new experience...

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.