Big Goals

I've been wanting to post for a few days now, but I haven't felt like I had anything worth posting about. I even wrote a couple of posts that didn't make it up. There was the day I turned for an hour just to remind myself that I could (it had been a while since I even cleared the 40-minute mark), there were thousands of strikes here or there, there were days of getting up early, or failing to get up early, of standing triumph, and of diminished training ability due to work and family obligations. There was even a fairly long post that I killed after typing it, retyping it, fixing it, and giving up on it discussing the nature of my bagua relationship with my brother and how sometimes I wish life put us in a place where we could train more seriously together again (and how I think it would do him good). After I finished turning today, though, I got an idea worth posting about.

The YSB workshop I'm attending this fall is literally days away. Due to my brother coming into town, my work requirements ramping up heavily, and an assortment of other minor duties to have to attend to, my training did the opposite except in the applications department. There was some turning, some standing, some of everything there is supposed to be, but not a lot of any of it. I felt guilty for slacking off, and it took a solid forty-five-plus on the circle today to give me my idea. It starts with the close of the seminar and subsequent return to "normalcy."

I realized that I respond well to big goals and poorly to small ones and even more poorly to a general absence of them at all -- meaning vaguely defined "wishes" instead of clearly delineated goals. When I say "big goals," I don't mean ones that are unreasonable or unattainable but rather ones with a rather long time requirement. One year, for instance, I committed myself to doing 50,000 pushups and twice as many crunches. I hated pushups by the end of the year, but I did them all as well as 30,000 the next year, which is pretty good considering the hatred I developed for them (sadly, this isn't the most extreme pushup goal that I've done... that was 10,000+ in 10 days, which went well enough (sucked but was met) but caused some problems -- this was not in either year mentioned above!). Anyway, I've decided to set forth some fairly large goals of that nature, though, for my Yin Style training unless information that comes out at the seminar this year directly contradicts my plan.

The time frame to accomplish these goals is "from the end of this seminar to the beginning of the (first) one I attend in Fall 2009 or roughly the same date if for some unforeseen reason that becomes an impossible stopping time."

1. Turning for ~7200 minutes (120 hours, just under 20 minutes per day, on average).
2. Standing for ~7200 minutes in strengthening postures.

You might have expected more. The list looks kind of bare now that I see it in print. Really, I just wanted to put something down for the turning and standing, which I intend to take even more seriously over the next year (as I have been really for the last few months as well). I figure 20 minutes a day on average is reasonable and attainable, particularly since the admonishment from Beijing is "an hour a day." Physically, I think that's possible (but VERY hard unless some interesting physiological/energetic change occurs after some number of days of grinding through it), but with *Life* in the way, I'm convinced it's unlikely to occur. A third of that is a nice enough understatement so that I hopefully can overshoot that by a fair percentage (I'd really like to see 10,000 minutes or more total for the year, with 12-15 being even more exciting -- doubting anything above that is very realistic). The same, essentially, goes for standing. More is awesome, but I'd rather undershoot and attain than overshoot and fail (having experience with these kinds of things, I know all too well how discouraging it can be to get a few months in and realize the near impossibility of satisfying the remaining requirements).

I'm avoiding discussing other aspects of training because if I start attaching numbers to strikes or forms, I end up focusing more on the numbers than on the training. If that starts to happen with standing and turning (which are of a different nature, so I don't think that will occur), these goals will be bailed upon forthwith!

There is a small host of other things I'd like to see happen as well, for instance

• Turn for more than an hour (continuously) per day for at least 10 days or two weeks or some such.
• Turn for at least 3 hours continuously at least once, maintaining the requirements.
• Get and close the 300 lb. gripper (several times?).
• Fix my recurrent back issue (see next point).
• Get way more flexible and nimble (i.e. do some freaking yoga like I tell other people they should do because it's really beneficial and balancing against the two main facets of my life -- sitting in chairs and training hard physically).
• Seriously train the "plank" position (maybe aim for something like 500-1000 minutes in the position over the course of the year).
• Do way more seated meditation (20-30 minutes a day seems like a good baseline).
• Finish my G.D. Ph.D. and then never do math again (just kidding about the never part... I'll just need a vacation, I think, perhaps to China).
  

I may end up with something to do with basic saber exercises too, since it looks like I might get on that path before too long (Yikes! More pillars!). Luckily (or unluckily?) I might not have to worry much about that right off because I neither have a saber nor know how to get one, making saber drills hard to do.

I suppose I'll see how it goes. I don't want these not-directly-bagua goals to mess up my bagua training, though, so they will definitely take the backseat. I'll keep you posted. HA! Posted! I kill me.

Goals

Goals are a lot easier to write down than to accomplish. Today I set out with a number of goals for my training, and I nearly accomplished them all, falling short, really, only in the turning department. The turning was to be the last department of the day, and I think the sun and sweat took something from me. Also, I ran out of time.

My agenda for the day included the following:

• Get up early: eh. I kind of did this one, rising on a Sunday morning that had no obligations at about 8:30 without any kind of assistance. It wasn't 6, but it was still pretty early (for me).
  
• Standing Practice: 30+ minutes of continuous static postures, spending some time in each of those from the Lion System, a minimum of 4 minutes to each side in the Lion representational posture. Success: 32.5 minutes of static postures, with 8:15 of that time in the Lion posture at the start, though I was sweating like I'm pretty sure I never have before (I did them after strikes, which worked up a mighty sweat). I dripped four small puddles. It was crazy.
  
• Basic Strikes: attention to all 24 Lion System basics, doing each palm continuously (i.e. not stopping between the three strikes in each palm, but taking a quick drink after each palm). Success: 50 strikes (minimum) from each, putting in static, box, and three-step methods on the 18 striking-strikes and using static and reciprocating-L stepping on the S&G strikes for a total of 1200 strikes.
• Single-Action Striking from "The Three" Forms: attention to all 21 strikes in The Three forms, including redundant strikes, doing those from each form continuously. Success: 50 strikes (minimum) from each non-lying-step strike, putting in static, box, and three-step methods on each; 30 or 40-some-odd of each of the lying-step strikes in box and three-step methods for a total of around 1100 strikes. [that means around 2300 strikes, with power, today... that and wobbly legs]
• The Three Forms: repeat each with power 10 times, paying particular attention to connecting one move with the one(s) following it and the stepping. Success: 10 times each.
• Stretch: stretch enough to hurt less after everything than before it. Success!
• Heavy Grippers: usual workout. Success! [Right now that's a warm-up on the 100, a set of 15 on the 150 in each hand, then two sets of 12-ish in the right with the 200 and a set of 12-ish with the 150 followed by a set of 8-ish with the 200 with the left. After that, I use both hands to close the 200, hold it closed as long as I can in each hand, and then finish with a burnout of 25-30 with the 100 in each hand].
  
• Classic zhan zhuang: at least 30 minutes, like usual. Haven't done it yet, but it's coming soon.
• Sitting Meditation: at least 30 minutes. I've done a little over 10 of the minutes so far, but not all of it. I'll finish after I stand tonight.
• Watch the Apps Video: 30 minutes or so. That's up next! It really puts me in the mind of thinking about this art and gets me revved up about exploring the moves in my mind, so I find it to be a real treasure. I can't wait to get my hands/eyes/brain on the Qin-na Deeper Understanding video and the up-and-coming stepping video!
  
• Turning: turn for an hour or more without lowering my hands. Fail. I think I was bordering on heat stroke or serious dehydration by the time I finished the strikes (it was f-ing hot here today, and I did it outside, mostly in my driveway in the sun because that's where I have to rock out this way), but a couple of quarts of cool water really helped settle that. What actually got me was starting too late in the day and running into Heather's work requirements. I ended up turning for about a quarter of the goal, though I felt pretty good doing it all along (though a mite weak from the cumulative strain). I could probably be turning some more right now instead of typing this, but I'm sated with what I did for the day.
  

At this point, I feel pretty satisfied but generally kind of wan. In fact, I have a vague headache and seemingly insatiable thirst, so I figure I probably was overheating out there. The kicker is that I decided to take advantage of this Sunday of Labor Day weekend to put myself through a hard workout, and so I sat down last night to write it out. I became keenly aware of how much easier it is to write down goals than to achieve them and how much more reasonable they sometimes look on paper than they really are.

It also hearkened me back to my "how do they do it" post. All-in-all, my actual workout time, including stretching and all the not-bagua stuff and between-sets/strikes resting came up to a little over three hours and a half (30-ish standing, 90-ish striking, 20-ish with forms, 30-ish stretching, 15-ish with the grippers, 10-ish meditating, 15-ish turning). To read the forum is to see that this is a little more than a "typical daily workout" for many folks. I'm either a bit skeptical or a bit of a sissy.... The saying is that the proof is in the pudding, though the only thing I can think of when I think of pudding at the moment is how some parts of my thighs feel.

The Flaw in my Plan

With the U.S. tour workshops approaching so rapidly, I've been upping my already difficult-to-fit-in workouts to prepare for them a bit more. Today, I had intended to do a mini-workshop day for myself just to get an idea of how wrecked I'd be if I were to go there today. Since the workshops start early (7 am!), I figured I'd get up early (not quite early enough, but I'm working on that), eat a bite, do static postures for about half an hour, bust out a couple thousand strikes with a serious attitude and the proper intent, take a lunch break, turn for an hour, do a form (or a few forms) a whole bunch of times, and review the applications video. I was aware of the remnants of Tropical Storm Fay moving into the area and intended to tear it up out in my driveway or yard, rain or shine. It didn't go down like that.

The flaw in my plan is that I'm not a morning person, and I haven't been practicing on pretending to be one. I woke up first at 3:18, though I didn't know it, ripped, roaring, and ready to go. After sauntering around to where I could see the clock and realizing it was 3:18 am (instead of the 5:45 or so that I assumed), I went back to bed. My next moment of consciousness did not occur until after first light, so I knew it was later than 5-anything, but I wasn't perturbed. It turned out to be about ten after 7. I figured that wasn't bad for a first try (with no alarm, even!). What I hadn't counted on is something I'm still at a bit of a loss to understand or explain: how is it that my brain and body could have been so overwhelmingly charged at 3:18 am and so overwhelmingly inept after almost four more hours rest, which is slightly more rest than I had achieved by 3:18 am? It makes no sense.

I had brain fog and "morning sickness," meaning the really sick feeling I have every time I get up earlier in the morning than I'm used to or earlier than 6:30 under any circumstances even if I've had to get up before 6:30 every morning for four months. It floats between "I might throw up" and "I think I have diarrhea" and ruins motivation. Also, everything, which is to say everything, was very extra confusing. My quick bite for breakfast took until almost 9 to make, I was so confused and slow-moving. By the time that was done, other unaccounted-for activities of a home-improvement variety were going on and making the idea of going out in the rain to do strikes seem slightly inappropriate. By the time that was done, I still felt woozy and sick, and it was almost time for my lunch break... having achieved nothing of my planned training yet and being in a position where I'm not sure it should/would have counted had I forced myself to do it. What little I did try convinced me that it quite literally wasn't worth my effort yet and made me feel even sicker.

Usually, the crap wake-up feeling wears off by 9:30 or 10 at the latest, often earlier than that, frequently even if I get up in the 5-somethings. Not so today. I continued to feel like crap straight until almost 5:30 pm, tilting on the verge of being sick every time I tried to do anything and not having the energy to do much more than lay on my side. I did get some math done, but the toll it took on my mind and body was tremendous. I wanted a nap so badly, but I am forcing myself not to have them until I'm trained to go to bed early and wake up early, hopefully without feeling lost and sick.

Once the sick subsided, I went out into the still-steady rain and decided to follow Bradley's advice on training on which he's really ramping up the focus: "get better at something every time you train." I decided that today's effort would be on the three-step method, and so I applied it with a wide variety of strikes from the basics and several of the forms, ultimately doing around 840 of them without much in the way of a break. After that, I ran through those forms a few times, dripping wet at this point, and turned for about five or six minutes, just enough to get the feel for it (and start feeling it after all that striking with no rest!) and went inside, wringing out my workout clothes before tossing them into the laundry -- feeling quite sick again, though not in the same way. It was the same sick feeling, but it wasn't as pervasive. It was more of a redoubled desire to lay down and go to sleep right then and there.

I celebrated by making "fiesta-style" chicken and wild rice for dinner. I feel a bit guilty, like I shortchanged myself or my workout, but I figure that I did anything on a day like today was really a testament to something. I'm going to stand now and go to sleep so that I can try it all again tomorrow, this time with the pressure that I have to go in to work on Wednesdays, so something almost has to happen in the morning before I have to be there. Here's to trying, if nothing more!

Phases

More than ever, I'm convinced from my own experience about something I've suspected for a long time: we have phases. There are in our lives times in which our very approach to being and living is drastically more active, energetic, and vigorous. At those times, our lives are in a phase that is primarily yang. There are other times in our lives in which every endeavor seems a tremendous effort, particularly physical endeavors, where inexplicably, it seems, we sleep too late and then yearn for more sleep and the very idea of working out seems dreadful, preferring a nap that according to our programmed idea of "eight hours per night" we shouldn't need at all. At those times, our lives are primarily in a yin phase. We must live with both phases, and they are inescapable realities. In the West, we often try to ignore, repress, or push through the yin phases, wondering why our lives, efforts, and, particularly, workouts suddenly don't have the vigor that they had just weeks ago, attributing it to any number of causes. "Sometimes we're up, and sometimes we're down," might be the best explanation of all, especially if we notice that the changes are cyclical.

I've found myself lately in a very yin phase. My desire to train has slackened tremendously. Some aspects of my workouts have suffered, and yet the intellectual components of learning and developing in Yin Style Baguazhang have seemed to increase tenfold. I feel pulled to review the video material, taking it a step further to document and study carefully the requirements and patterns revealed therein, and I stare at my driveway thinking of doing strikes with tremendous disdain. I've only managed about 3000 of them in the last week, and the sessions were all forced, my power feeling like it had waned slightly; my will to continue diminished. I can feel it now, typing up this post... the desire to explore the art with my mind and to put my thoughts down is full. This afternoon, I stared out into the hazy heat, gazing at my circle with guilt for the lack of attention I've given it in the past week and flooded with exactly the opposite feeling that this post is giving me: dread. Faced with the reality of my training, though, I thought: an hour a day... not quite... not even close, though I did manage to turn most of the days. I thought about the near-90 heat, intense humidity (thanks to the remnants of a tropical storm moving this way and it being the Dirty South), and the mosquitoes, and I almost talked myself out of it.

After arguing with myself, I forced myself out onto the circle that I missed yesterday. Our study group was made fully official by the International Yin Style folks yesterday, and I had planned to celebrate with an hour or so on the circle and maybe a thousand or more strikes. I didn't even turn yesterday, though. Deciding that I should put in at least 45 minutes, not feeling up to the hour, I got on to turn. I finished my first go-around in each direction at 42 minutes, maintaining a good feeling the whole time and a fullness I hadn't felt in days. My desire to nap evaporated, and I figured doing just three more minutes was silly. Once more voyage each way got me over my hour, with three whole extra minutes on my little timer, and I felt great, very glad I had done it.

Now I realize that part of life is different phases, and that during yin phases, training is more difficult. I'm willing to bet that doing strikes wouldn't have gone nearly as well, though static postures earlier in the day had been quite successful. Forms feel good when the power is kept low, but doing them hard just doesn't feel right. Perhaps part of training in an art like Yin Style is learning to recognize the phases of our lives and adapt our training to them accordingly, asking what is natural of our bodies at the appropriate times instead of blindly trying to force ourselves into a rigid mold that bucks against those cyclic changes. Still, many of the exercises of Yin Style are performed well in yin or yang phases, like turning, and the different aspects of the practice in the different phases can and should be explored -- through practice. The different phases, though, do not permit laziness, however.

An old saying is "between two and five, the training is real," where the two refer to yin and and the five the five phases/transitions/elements/states of traditional Chinese medicine and philosophy. That saying indicates to me that learning about the phases of the body in terms of both yin and yang is part of training Yin Style and a critical part of development. I can only wonder and hope about what revelations and realizations will come about concerning the five with further effort.

Perhaps with attention and through diligent training, I will continue in this way until I can feel the yin within the yang, and vice-versa, with the phases of my life and continually adapt my life to those subtle influences, which is likely a stepping stone to "the five." I look forward to such a day and am thrilled that Yin Style may offer such self-knowledge.

How's It Done?

So I've been working out pretty hard this past week, though probably not the hardest I ever have due to the myriad things life throws my way, particularly in August. This is partially because I consider myself pretty dedicated to these things, and it is partially in response to the fact that on our sahweet forum, some folks have been talking about their workouts and making yours truly feel a bit deficient. Here's what I got for the week, roughly.

1. Static Postures (YSB only): About 90-100 minutes, total.
   
2. Turning: About 3 hours 20 minutes, total.
   
3. Striking: Between 5000 and 5500 strikes, total including Lion basics and those in the forms done in single-action, performed in static, box stepping, and three-stepping methods; just over 3 hours total time, approximately.
4. Forms: Perhaps 80-100 repetitions of forms, primarily of three main ones but visiting some others to review them and keep the training fresh, probably 30-40 minutes total time.
5. Applications: Around 3 hours actively studying applications with other human beings and just short of an hour visualizing doing it while resting, falling asleep, refusing to get out of bed in the morning, etc.
6. Video reviewing: Approximately 30 minutes.
   

In addition, I've kept up with my zhan zhuang standing practice (non-YSB), doing around 4 hours and 30 minutes, total, this week. There was some seated meditation (around an hour if you put it all together) and a healthier than normal amount of stretching as well tossed in (a couple hours, maybe).

Here's the thing, indicating my title for the post: I honestly don't know how people are doing what they're claiming. Physically, I don't think I was strapped to my limits here. Certainly, in any one striking session, some of which approached 1500 strikes in one go (I don't rest between strikes when I train, typically), fatigue set in and required me to take a break to get back up to full-steam. One of my turning sessions was a proud 12 minutes following just over 1200 strikes done continuously with no break except for a 20-to-30-second walk to my circle followed by a 20-to-30-second "normalize my breathing" period before I began to turn. That was hard. Half an hour later, I turned for another twenty without too much difficulty, so resting made a big difference.

Still, I'm wondering how people are managing what they're posting about on the forum because I don't even have a job that I have to go to until tomorrow and still had a hard time pulling off half of it. Sure, there's work to be done, but just the act of fulfilling the role I lead in the household I live in (with family including teenagers!), noting my essentially non-existent social life, prevented me really from being able to do much more, what with the work I did have to do even without having to go to a special workplace for it. Admittedly, I've turned more in a week while keeping up other training and probably could have fit it in if I was willing to accept multiple sessions in a day, but it really took a lot to accomplish what I did for the week. It seems to compare favorably with what many of my compatriots are pulling in two or three days, though.

I just don't want to be falling behind. Maybe I should structure my life a bit more and fit it in that way. I am a bit free-form with my schedule, taking each moment and opportunity as it arises. What with work starting back in full measure tomorrow, a greater amount of disciplined structure could facilitate the training regimen, though it really hampers my enjoyment of my life.

Continuous Striking

Sometimes I strike purely to develop skill, sometimes I strike purely to develop power, and sometimes I do strikes to develop some of both of those things and to enhance endurance. Today, and at least for a few days here, I think I'll be focusing on Number Three. The method is "continuous striking," which I've done small-scale before, say just with static striking through a palm or with a small number of repetitions of each of the basics. Here's the routine, for anyone that wants to try it. I will warn you... I kind of had to go through it a few times slowly and without power, almost like a flowing dance, to make sure I had the pattern and footwork down.

First, choose two palms. I chose, today, Sweeping and Cutting. Then, choose a form. I chose, today, Holding and Lifting from Sweeping Palm. Then, get started! The routine begins with static striking, trying to pay attention to proper execution of power and meeting the requirements. After fifty strikes, which I counted, I did a fifty-first as an introduction into the box-stepping method. Four or five times around the box in each direction later, I'm back where I started, poised perfectly to take the same strike directly into the three-stepping method. Four or five times down and back in three-step, and I'm done with that strike. Instead of closing it up, though, I flowed directly into the next strike, repeating the entire triad for all six of my strikes. The intention had been to continue to do that directly into single-action strikes from the forms, but my fitness wasn't there. On the last of my strikes for the day, rising cutting, I had to choose between power and technique by the time I got to the three-step routine. I was fatigued, but I had done over 600 strikes without taking a break by then too. The nice part is that it doesn't take as long as hundreds of strikes usually take... maybe between fifteen and twenty minutes for the lot. The not nice part is how it makes you feel when you hit your edge.

After a break, which was longer than I had originally planned due to an overwhelming feeling that I might toss, I hit the strikes from the forms with the same routine, though I more or less halved everything. A few rounds of the form later, I was done, feeling it, and glad to be feeling it. Now that I'm feeling better, I'm going to turn for a bit before calling it a workout.

The Rotisserie

I've been turning these last few days for less time and doing it right around noon, when the National Weather Service indicates that we're lately having a UV Index of "10+ Extreme." For the past several days, I've been pulling thirty minute shifts in the roasting sun, but today I cut it back to 18 for the sake of my lily-white skin, which isn't adjusting as quickly as I'd have hoped. I get the distinct impression of being in a rotisserie from the exercise, though.

My striking practice is still going strong, averaging close to a thousand a day, I think, still emphasizing the shocking strikes, which are coming along, albeit slowly. In addition, I've been putting more time into the strikes from the various forms, doing them in single-action mode, and I'm finding some of them are a bit more weird than I had anticipated. I'm glad I decided on this course of practice this week. It's also, of course, enhancing my ability to practice the forms I'm taking those striking methods from, giving me an extra excuse to do those forms a few extra times.

The biggest change to my practice this past week, though, has been in standing practice. In addition to my 30+ minutes of zhan zhuang that I've been doing, I've started ramping up my static postures rather significantly. First, I'm doing the Lion representational posture every morning as I rise, though due to sleep still filling my body, I don't usually succeed in doing it for very long at that point. It's a very nice and effective wake-up tool, though. Second, I'm putting at least twenty to thirty minutes a day into the standing postures, and I'm really starting to enjoy the practice more and more.

Getting the Shocking Force

Today I was reminded of an important lesson in training. It's simple, but there is a story, which is good for people that come here to read stories.

I've felt for a while that my shocking strikes, particularly straight shocking and turning the body shocking, have been a bit weak. Not only that, but I felt they kind of made my back hurt, so I figured I must be doing them incorrectly. Discouraged, I reacted by doing fewer of them. The situation did not improve.

Finally, I've decided this situation is not acceptable any longer, and that aspect of my training must take priority and be addressed. I broke out the Lion system videos the other day and watched. Then I thought about them and played with them, but I still only had a little success. Then I did it again today, taking time to write down the requirements of the strike that are presented on the video, the physiological methods by which the shocking force is generated, and my observations of things not spoken about but plainly done in the execution of the strikes. After studying my lists for a moment, I set to doing the strikes, and I did a gracious plenty of them.

I had to start by doing them essentially in slow motion, feeling my way through them, trying to discover where the change from 'slow' to 'fast' occurred and determine what my body should be doing to make that happen. Pretty soon, by remembering the video (in which I saw things that I hadn't before noticed), paying attention, and experimenting with myself, I started to feel what seemed correct. A few more strikes later, paying close attention to what I was doing and feeling, it started to set itself like concrete. Before I knew it, I was at a regular striking cadence, feeling strong at least three out of four times, and glad to be doing it. One of the kids asked me if I knew I was making the whole room shake.

Then I rested and did it again later, and again later, and again later, etc., performing all-in-all around five hundred straight shocking strikes interspersed with the shocking palm strengthening posture in the middle position. Then I applied what I was learning from it to the turning the body strike, and it made my back hurt from the word go.

Experimenting and remembering old lessons I had learned about the proper positioning and use of the waist and then contemplating the physics of the situation, I realized my problem almost at once, tried the strike again correcting for it, and felt no pain. Within a few strikes, my power was increasing, though it's not yet to the level that my straight shocking is. I did a few more of them a couple of times, but I've decided to focus primarily on the straight shocking to build the foundation before moving on. By the end of the week, though, I expect to feel the strength I've been missing for over two years of training those strikes.

The big take-home lesson I got was something I already preach but wasn't intelligent enough to practice in this case: if you want to get better at a strike, review the requirements and then do it, a lot, intelligently.

Shocking Power

We got together again this week to train, meeting for the second time at our new home, which is a pavilion on public land near a school. We appreciated a thunderstorm from the wall-free enclosure last week, and when we got there today, it was hot and humid but certainly not raining. Immediately we kicked it off, getting in some good basic training and a little group turning before investigating together the methods of generating and using the shocking force, studying the Lion System strikes of that palm and trying to feel and find it carefully, sharing our insights with one another when we had them. It's weird to be hit with, that's one thing. For what we could do, which isn't much I'm sure, it is startling and off-balancing with kind of a residual desire to exhale when hit in the chest/shoulder area. Taking it in the arm fairly well hurts; in fact, it felt a bit like a concrete slab being dropped onto us, that discomfort seeming to build with repeated strikes, leaving the arm-under-fire feeling heavy and dead. The shocking strikes and our experiments with them were evidently our rain dance this evening.

Just as we were feeling like we made some progress with the the strikes, a thunder-bumper broke out around us, this time much windier than before. In fact, our concrete training floor was soon inlaid with streams and ponds from the wind driving the water in (I read online when I got home that roughly 1.25", 3.2 cm, fell while we were there). Then it calmed down, the lightning receding as we counted the brighter strokes off to estimate their distances: less than a mile... a mile and a half... just over two miles.... Then, all of a sudden, just as we really got back into investigating some of the forces contained in striking, sharing what nuggets we had each gleaned in previous workshops with He Jinbao in the falls past along with what we've come to understand since those times, what could only have been a microburst hit us. The wind and heavy rain came essentially from nowhere, and if I had to guess, the blast, which lasted probably for two or three minutes straight, was in the 80 mph range (130 km/hr), numbers roughly confirmed from another online weather map. It came from the east-northeast, and in that direction is a small hill that lays only feet from the pavilion, rising higher than the structure's approximately ten-foot roof. The wind and rain were so intense that they actually came in from that side, despite the hill, and blew straight through, coming out the far side, absolutely soaking us in the process. My shoes, in fact, are essentially a swamp, but I was soaked to dripping from head to toe. That ended our party pretty much on the dot, though we stood there together laughing our heads off over the sheer power and surprise of the thing, and, if you'll pardon the pun, we were all three feeling pretty charged-up by the whole thing.

The moral of this story, I guess, is that sometimes we should be careful about which rain dances we choose to do... or that we should accept what nature gives us and enjoy it!

Welcome Back, Old Friend II

Again I get to welcome back an "old friend" to my turning scene, only I'm not sure how excited I am about this one. The other day I noted that I was lucky enough to turn for two and a half hours straight because of a combination of fortunate events, one of which was a reduction in the temperature. So much for that.

The old friend I'm referring to today is heat. Though the NWS disagrees with me, the thermometer in my yard tells me that it was floating right around 95 (F -- 35C for my non-American readers) this evening when I got out on the circle to go right round, baby, right round, like a record, baby [sorry... it just popped into my head and had to be typed to keep it from getting stuck there!]. I was sweating rivers! Training in 90+ (32+) weather is tough. It's also a cold, hard reality (HA!) in this neck of the woods.

To make matters even more awesome, the temperature decrease on Friday night was actually due to an impending torrential downpour arriving Saturday morning. The extra moisture has had two wonderful effects: 1) raising our relative humidity to "won't evaporate sweat but will stifle and limit visibility," and 2) calling forth every mosquito that apparently ever lived. I turned for about twenty-four minutes last night, being bitten at least a dozen times in uncomfortable places like the middle of my back or on my kidney, and tonight's twenty minutes saw the same thing. Both times, my hanging it up from the turning was caused by being eaten by other creatures, which I declare (at least at my level) to be a justifiable cause for hanging it up. I will note that due to my soreness from the marathon on Friday night, I would have been pushing it to get forty good minutes either day today, but if forced I probably could have done an hour at least on one of them.

One interesting side-effect of all the turning, though, has presented itself via the annoying insects. When they bite, it's the same as for everyone else (I assume). In the last year or so, though, since my training, particularly my turning, has really been elevated, the bites don't seem to itch for very long, maybe an hour or two. Usually, in fact, within an hour and a half, I cannot even find the place where I had been bitten, the swelling having more or less subsided completely and the itching having been forgotten. I'd like to attribute that to qi, but I'm not so hasty. Still, reading rather heavily on the matter last week unveiled to me that the reaction to the mosquito's saliva that we experience as an irritating bite largely has to do with how the immune system responds to it. Initially, when we're quite young, apparently, we get little or no reaction, but as we experience increasing amounts of exposure to the compound, our reaction intensifies. This, I think, is typical in children who seem to be driven absolutely mad by the bites. Eventually, largish swollen areas replace the characteristic bumps of our youths, and this is known to be caused by a further increased sensitivity to the mosquito saliva, the immune system essentially overreacting to the stimulus. In a small percentage of adults, though, a phenomenon similar to what I'm experiencing now occurs, though no one's perfectly sure why, knowing only that it must have to do with immune function. If I'm not mistaken, the Chinese medicine approach to immunity has a lot to do with defensive energy, wei qi. Perhaps one of the side-effects of extended training in an art like baguazhang enhances that aspect of our energetic makeup, and perhaps it has some effect on the mosquito-bite phenomenon I experience now. In any case, I feel at least slightly justified in owing to my training at least a part of this small benefit to my life, though being bitten still sucks.