Oh the excitement! Oh the joy! Oh the enthusiasm! Oh the training that is to come!
I did some striking practice today and found out that finally, seemingly at long last, my body works again. I've trained lightly almost every day since I got back from London, but it seemed that while my head and heart were in it, my body just wasn't. In fact, it intended to have no part in the entire affair. That was a bit discouraging, to say the least, because it made me feel like I was half-assing when what I really wanted to do was get in a rock-solid workout that allowed me to expand upon and review what we covered in the London intensive. Wants aside, my attempts at striking and forms practice up until now have consistently resulted in feeling fairly week, somewhat uncoordinated, and too stiff or sore to accomplish much.
Standing and turning haven't been much better, though they have been better. The problem there is primarily that my left wrist is still too angry to turn properly, which is particularly irksome while turning. I have to say that it's much better today than it has been, but it's been a long road to what I'd call 60%. The best that I can self-diagnose is "repetitive use injury," i.e. tendinits as I claimed. With a hard, consistent effort in self-massage (and a little help from my therapist wife) and a relative avoidance of twisting it too far even when I was training (another source of feeling like I wasn't putting in my all), I've finally made some real progress on it. Furthermore, my toes are considerably less numb than they were, so I think being on the mend is definitely in my future. My calves still don't feel right, but they're another story all together....
In about an hour, I'll have a chance to really go get a good test-run in on striking and forms practices. I'm really looking forward to it and carbing up (on some beautiful multigrain porridge) right now. Honestly, I'm so excited that I can barely stay in this chair. Woot!
Friday, July 17, 2009
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Easing Back In
So I'm officially easing back into training, which means that I've admitted to myself that I cannot physically train as hard as I was before and during the London intensive yet and have decided that the situation will not hold me back entirely. I pushed myself last night, however, and tried to have a more vigorous training session and almost undoubtedly injured myself -- my hamstrings and leg adductors are too tight and I seem to have pulled something right around where those things become my ass on the left-hand side. Hopefully that won't interfere too much with my recovery and eventual return to what my friend described as "attempting to become a beast." I believe the cause was trying to train on muscles that had been subjected to a weekend of torture in an emergency trip to visit my wife's family on literally no notice that kept me in a car for over twenty hours out of fewer than sixty. Much of the remaining time was spent in a stiff, uncomfortable chair in a hospital waiting room, and I believe it pretty much wrecked everything from the bottom of my ribs to my knees. Dehydrated and essentially fresh out of the car from a solid eight-hour stretch in it, I went straight to training with a will that outstripped my means. Now I'm paying for it.
Still, the tendinitis in my wrist seems to be improving daily, though I still cannot properly twist my left arm out to even properly execute the Lion's representational posture with the left hand as the lower. The point cutting strike, which I believe is the donor of this tendon issue, is still more or less completely out too, unless I completely ignore one of the main corrections I was given and thereby do the strike somewhat incorrectly. I've opted to do that since I'm aware of where I'm cheating and at least 90% of the mechanics (particularly the body movement) don't involve the use of my wrist and can therefore be done as long as I'm somewhat judicious and don't force myself too far too soon.
Finally, the numbness in my toes seems to be slowly clearing up, though progress there is much, much, much slower than I had hoped. I'm working on the apparently afflicted area two or three times daily with a penetrating, rather vigorous massage, and I'm being a little less aggressive with my stances and stepping until feeling returns to full in them.
Of course, some of you reading this might be thinking: "Shit, look at him.... If everything in here it true (it is), then this guy trains pretty damn hard and the intensive broke him. I'll never go to one of those!" I will be going to one of those again, however, and I do not feel that the London intensive broke me, though I'm certainly not performing optimally after about two weeks of recovery with light training. The injuries I've sustained are quite minor, I'm sure, and the amount I developed while there and learned in the process, which will fuel a huge amount of development in the coming months and year(s?), vastly outweighs some temporary discomfort and reduced training capacity. It gives me a really good reason to take time to seriously mull over the art and how I want to train it as well, preventing me from falling into a rut where I train and train and train and eventually find myself essentially training just for the sake of training, which is no good at all.
Still, the tendinitis in my wrist seems to be improving daily, though I still cannot properly twist my left arm out to even properly execute the Lion's representational posture with the left hand as the lower. The point cutting strike, which I believe is the donor of this tendon issue, is still more or less completely out too, unless I completely ignore one of the main corrections I was given and thereby do the strike somewhat incorrectly. I've opted to do that since I'm aware of where I'm cheating and at least 90% of the mechanics (particularly the body movement) don't involve the use of my wrist and can therefore be done as long as I'm somewhat judicious and don't force myself too far too soon.
Finally, the numbness in my toes seems to be slowly clearing up, though progress there is much, much, much slower than I had hoped. I'm working on the apparently afflicted area two or three times daily with a penetrating, rather vigorous massage, and I'm being a little less aggressive with my stances and stepping until feeling returns to full in them.
Of course, some of you reading this might be thinking: "Shit, look at him.... If everything in here it true (it is), then this guy trains pretty damn hard and the intensive broke him. I'll never go to one of those!" I will be going to one of those again, however, and I do not feel that the London intensive broke me, though I'm certainly not performing optimally after about two weeks of recovery with light training. The injuries I've sustained are quite minor, I'm sure, and the amount I developed while there and learned in the process, which will fuel a huge amount of development in the coming months and year(s?), vastly outweighs some temporary discomfort and reduced training capacity. It gives me a really good reason to take time to seriously mull over the art and how I want to train it as well, preventing me from falling into a rut where I train and train and train and eventually find myself essentially training just for the sake of training, which is no good at all.
Friday, July 10, 2009
A Thick-Skinned Grapefruit
Something Jinbao said in London has been sitting in my mind a lot, particularly as I work out the soreness/injuries that are keeping my training far sub-optimal (thanks to point cutting, the Lion posture, and a touch of Phoenix stuff, I still can't supinate my left wrist without fairly sharp pain and doing things like the dishes is kind of agony -- darn, I can't really do them...). He said that you have to "work through a lot of bitter to get to the sweet" in Yin Style.
As I think more and more about it, considering the difficulty of the art and the fact that Jinbao readily says that he "gets sore too," I'm convinced that the analogy that might fit best is that of eating a very thick-skinned grapefruit, only without the luxury of being allowed to peel it.
The peel, of course is harsh and foul tasting, which is probably the experience that many new folks have when they first meet the art: the postures, the training, the turning... all of it burns and hurts and is rather miserable in many ways. Eventually, we get used to that, which would be a bit like getting into the pith of the fruit, I think. It's dry, it's bitter, and it contains many of the "nutrients" of the art. This is the tough part... persevering in the pith, and it lasts for a very long time, it seems, in the quest to become skilled. In fact, it seems to be more and more fibrous and bitter the further in we proceed. Finally, at last, the pulp of the fruit is waiting in the middle... the sweet. I've chosen a grapefruit, rather than an orange, for my analogy, however, because I have a feeling that "the sweet" is still poignantly bitter in a variety of ways. Grapefruit, though, is an acquired taste that once obtained tends to be a particular favorite.
Well... now I've got two things to do: keep working on my wrist and foot so I can get back to proper training and go get some grapefruit (so I can make one of my all-time favorite beverages: grapefruitade, which is the most refreshing drink possible).
Recipe (good post training, particularly if made a bit thin): Freshly squeezed juice of 1 or 2 grapefruits of any color.
1 or 2 parts water (where 1 part is the amount of juice from the fruit) or more to taste
Sugar to taste (a quarter cup per pint of juice is my usual, but that makes it quite sweet requiring more water for me).
Mint for garnish if you're into that kind of thing.
Serve cold or over ice.
As I think more and more about it, considering the difficulty of the art and the fact that Jinbao readily says that he "gets sore too," I'm convinced that the analogy that might fit best is that of eating a very thick-skinned grapefruit, only without the luxury of being allowed to peel it.
The peel, of course is harsh and foul tasting, which is probably the experience that many new folks have when they first meet the art: the postures, the training, the turning... all of it burns and hurts and is rather miserable in many ways. Eventually, we get used to that, which would be a bit like getting into the pith of the fruit, I think. It's dry, it's bitter, and it contains many of the "nutrients" of the art. This is the tough part... persevering in the pith, and it lasts for a very long time, it seems, in the quest to become skilled. In fact, it seems to be more and more fibrous and bitter the further in we proceed. Finally, at last, the pulp of the fruit is waiting in the middle... the sweet. I've chosen a grapefruit, rather than an orange, for my analogy, however, because I have a feeling that "the sweet" is still poignantly bitter in a variety of ways. Grapefruit, though, is an acquired taste that once obtained tends to be a particular favorite.
Well... now I've got two things to do: keep working on my wrist and foot so I can get back to proper training and go get some grapefruit (so I can make one of my all-time favorite beverages: grapefruitade, which is the most refreshing drink possible).
Recipe (good post training, particularly if made a bit thin): Freshly squeezed juice of 1 or 2 grapefruits of any color.
1 or 2 parts water (where 1 part is the amount of juice from the fruit) or more to taste
Sugar to taste (a quarter cup per pint of juice is my usual, but that makes it quite sweet requiring more water for me).
Mint for garnish if you're into that kind of thing.
Serve cold or over ice.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Back from London
I made it back from London, remarkably enough in one piece. It was quite a trip... definitely too much to detail here in any salient or appropriately brief way, but it is at least fair to say that it has made and will continue to make an absolutely tremendous difference in my training and ability to use the art.
In fact, I'm itching to put my new understanding to use in some serious training, but I've figured out that my body isn't completely willing to go along with all of that yet. I've got a little tendinitis in both wrists and a general fatigue and stiffness that I figure will take a few days to work its way out. Still, I spent about three hours yesterday training at a medium pace, trying to review briefly as much of the intensive as I could remember, which is a lot because of the effectiveness of the repetitive drills that we did.
All-in-all, I have to say that the seminar was excellent. The London group did a spectacular job of organizing the thing, and then Matt and JB did a top notch job of executing it so that it seemed very systematic. Thus, I feel I was able to build up a lot in the places that I most needed to, and furthermore, I was able to retain a lot of the information that was being passed (even without the 39 full pages of notes that I took).
Hopefully, in the coming week or so, I'll be back up to full-gear again and will have more to report as I start to train this material myself. Then I should have more to say!
In fact, I'm itching to put my new understanding to use in some serious training, but I've figured out that my body isn't completely willing to go along with all of that yet. I've got a little tendinitis in both wrists and a general fatigue and stiffness that I figure will take a few days to work its way out. Still, I spent about three hours yesterday training at a medium pace, trying to review briefly as much of the intensive as I could remember, which is a lot because of the effectiveness of the repetitive drills that we did.
All-in-all, I have to say that the seminar was excellent. The London group did a spectacular job of organizing the thing, and then Matt and JB did a top notch job of executing it so that it seemed very systematic. Thus, I feel I was able to build up a lot in the places that I most needed to, and furthermore, I was able to retain a lot of the information that was being passed (even without the 39 full pages of notes that I took).
Hopefully, in the coming week or so, I'll be back up to full-gear again and will have more to report as I start to train this material myself. Then I should have more to say!
Friday, June 5, 2009
Good news, bad news continued
Since when did doing things like taking a saber to the UK get so ridiculously expensive? Holy pants! I just found out (and I'm glad I found out ahead of time) that taking the good ol' dadao to Londontown would run me $300 each way on the plane. HHHHHWwwhat? The conversation I had with the lady at the airline convinced me that logic cannot triumph over policy:
Me: "I need to take a bag with me on my trip that contains a big steel thing, so my bag measures a total of 86 linear inches. I understand this is going to incur an excess baggage fee."
Rep: "Yes, sir, it will. That's a very big bag. It will be $300 each way."
Me: "Three hundred dollars! Holy moly. Well, it is a snowboarding bag. Do you have a sporting equipment proviso on the policy?"
Rep: "Yes, as long as it is a snowboarding bag or ski bag containing only snowboarding or ski equipment, it can be checked as regular baggage."
Me: "First, I don't have a snowboard, just a snowboarding bag. I have to take a thing that is very long. Second, if I was taking a snowboard, are you telling me that if the bag contained anything at all other than snowboarding equipment, then I'd be subject to the same fee?"
Rep: "Yes, the fee would apply."
Me: "Even if I just put a pair of socks in there?"
Rep: "Yes, if we opened your bag and saw that there was something other than snowboarding equipment in your snowboarding bag, then you'd be subject to the fee."
Me: "That's ridiculous."
Rep: "It's the policy, sir."
Me: "So the charge is $300 each way, correct?"
Rep: "Yes sir, $300 each way to put a bag of that size on the plane. That's a big bag."
Me: "Is there any way around the charge?"
Rep: "No sir, the fee cannot be waived for any reason. That's stated clearly in the policy and on the website. Most people don't take bags that big. Maybe you could fold whatever this thing is that you're taking and fit it into a smaller bag?"
Me: "I can't fold it; it's made of steel. I mean, perhaps I could fold it, but I don't think I could unfold it if I did. Maybe you can help me understand this, though. I'm having a hard time reconciling things here."
Rep: "What can I help you with, sir?"
Me: "I can take two suitcases that measure up to 62 total linear inches at no charge, right?"
Rep: "Yes sir."
Me: "And 62 plus 62 is 124, so I can take up to 124 linear inches with me for no fee provided that I pack it into two bags each no larger than 62 linear inches, but I cannot take one bag that is 86 linear inches despite the fact that it's one fewer bag to handle and 86 is less than 124?"
Rep: "That's correct, sir. I don't make the policy. Most people just don't pack bags that big."
Me: "It's a snowboarding bag. Many people pack this exact bag."
Rep: "Then they pay the fee."
Me: "I apologize for that, then. It's not your fault that your policy fails against logic. Do you realize the policy also states that you can take two fifty pound bags at no additional charge, a total of one hundred pounds, but if you try to bring a single bag over seventy pounds, they won't put it on the plane?"
Rep: "Yes sir, that's the policy."
Me: "That also makes no sense."
Rep: "I don't make the policy, sir."
Me: "Again, I'm sorry. I'm a bit annoyed by the policy and the quandary it puts me in. I'm sure you have to hear more venting about this than you should have to."
Rep: "No, sir, nobody really says anything about it." (Feel free to say something about it here).
Me: "What would you suggest I do, then, because I'm not giving you $300 each way to carry this thing. I could bring another person with me according to current rates on a competing airline for just $30 more than that, and that person would be bigger, more unweildy, much heavier, and likely to carry their own pair of heavy, bulky bags than would be my one bag containing a single big thing that isn't so much big but is inconveniently long but not as long as skis."
Rep: "You should ship it to yourself via some cargo company such as DHL, FedEx, or UPS."
Me: "Thanks."
I looked into packing the saber as my second bag, separately, but the total linear inches are still bigger than 62, so I end up paying $150 each way for that... except that the airline doesn't accept packages in cardboard, so I'd have to go get another, much smaller but still big enough bag for the sword. Then I called FedEx. $115.50 to mail the damn thing to myself. WTF? It came back from China in a bag identical to the one I was going to pack it into for a surcharge of $35. I also found out that some airlines won't even fly a bag large enough to contain the saber, and some others will but not to the following airports: "..., all London airports, ...."
Hello Londoners: sharing is caring?
Me: "I need to take a bag with me on my trip that contains a big steel thing, so my bag measures a total of 86 linear inches. I understand this is going to incur an excess baggage fee."
Rep: "Yes, sir, it will. That's a very big bag. It will be $300 each way."
Me: "Three hundred dollars! Holy moly. Well, it is a snowboarding bag. Do you have a sporting equipment proviso on the policy?"
Rep: "Yes, as long as it is a snowboarding bag or ski bag containing only snowboarding or ski equipment, it can be checked as regular baggage."
Me: "First, I don't have a snowboard, just a snowboarding bag. I have to take a thing that is very long. Second, if I was taking a snowboard, are you telling me that if the bag contained anything at all other than snowboarding equipment, then I'd be subject to the same fee?"
Rep: "Yes, the fee would apply."
Me: "Even if I just put a pair of socks in there?"
Rep: "Yes, if we opened your bag and saw that there was something other than snowboarding equipment in your snowboarding bag, then you'd be subject to the fee."
Me: "That's ridiculous."
Rep: "It's the policy, sir."
Me: "So the charge is $300 each way, correct?"
Rep: "Yes sir, $300 each way to put a bag of that size on the plane. That's a big bag."
Me: "Is there any way around the charge?"
Rep: "No sir, the fee cannot be waived for any reason. That's stated clearly in the policy and on the website. Most people don't take bags that big. Maybe you could fold whatever this thing is that you're taking and fit it into a smaller bag?"
Me: "I can't fold it; it's made of steel. I mean, perhaps I could fold it, but I don't think I could unfold it if I did. Maybe you can help me understand this, though. I'm having a hard time reconciling things here."
Rep: "What can I help you with, sir?"
Me: "I can take two suitcases that measure up to 62 total linear inches at no charge, right?"
Rep: "Yes sir."
Me: "And 62 plus 62 is 124, so I can take up to 124 linear inches with me for no fee provided that I pack it into two bags each no larger than 62 linear inches, but I cannot take one bag that is 86 linear inches despite the fact that it's one fewer bag to handle and 86 is less than 124?"
Rep: "That's correct, sir. I don't make the policy. Most people just don't pack bags that big."
Me: "It's a snowboarding bag. Many people pack this exact bag."
Rep: "Then they pay the fee."
Me: "I apologize for that, then. It's not your fault that your policy fails against logic. Do you realize the policy also states that you can take two fifty pound bags at no additional charge, a total of one hundred pounds, but if you try to bring a single bag over seventy pounds, they won't put it on the plane?"
Rep: "Yes sir, that's the policy."
Me: "That also makes no sense."
Rep: "I don't make the policy, sir."
Me: "Again, I'm sorry. I'm a bit annoyed by the policy and the quandary it puts me in. I'm sure you have to hear more venting about this than you should have to."
Rep: "No, sir, nobody really says anything about it." (Feel free to say something about it here).
Me: "What would you suggest I do, then, because I'm not giving you $300 each way to carry this thing. I could bring another person with me according to current rates on a competing airline for just $30 more than that, and that person would be bigger, more unweildy, much heavier, and likely to carry their own pair of heavy, bulky bags than would be my one bag containing a single big thing that isn't so much big but is inconveniently long but not as long as skis."
Rep: "You should ship it to yourself via some cargo company such as DHL, FedEx, or UPS."
Me: "Thanks."
I looked into packing the saber as my second bag, separately, but the total linear inches are still bigger than 62, so I end up paying $150 each way for that... except that the airline doesn't accept packages in cardboard, so I'd have to go get another, much smaller but still big enough bag for the sword. Then I called FedEx. $115.50 to mail the damn thing to myself. WTF? It came back from China in a bag identical to the one I was going to pack it into for a surcharge of $35. I also found out that some airlines won't even fly a bag large enough to contain the saber, and some others will but not to the following airports: "..., all London airports, ...."
Hello Londoners: sharing is caring?
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Good news, bad news
I've had a few recent confirmations about some progress being made on my part with the dadao, which is good news. A corollary to that is that I'm now competent enough to tell that I'm sloppy as all hell with it (sloppy beats clumsy?). It's exciting after all this time to have some confirmation of improvement, though. I've kind of got this lasting mental block that I suck royally with the thing, and evidence that helps me change my mind on that point is always nice.
I'm also training (still hard) in adversity right now. My allergies are killing me, which is kind of a new thing for me. Usually, I barely have them, if at all. This year, however, they're much more aggravating. Furthermore, to kind of let the cat out of the bag, I broke my toe last Saturday, and it kind of hurts, particularly on movements that involve twirling around or stepping particularly sharply with that foot. It seems to be healing remarkably quickly, though, which is really good news because I'm headed to the London intensive here in just a few days (!). It should be a rocking learning opportunity, and I'm stoked, of course. Seeing as I got a little note that Jinbao wants to be "wowed," though, I'm feeling a little pressure. I don't even know if that kind of thing is possible. The "sloppy" that I identify with my dadao training probably isn't going to cut it for him, I'll bet. We shall see... we shall see.
I'm also training (still hard) in adversity right now. My allergies are killing me, which is kind of a new thing for me. Usually, I barely have them, if at all. This year, however, they're much more aggravating. Furthermore, to kind of let the cat out of the bag, I broke my toe last Saturday, and it kind of hurts, particularly on movements that involve twirling around or stepping particularly sharply with that foot. It seems to be healing remarkably quickly, though, which is really good news because I'm headed to the London intensive here in just a few days (!). It should be a rocking learning opportunity, and I'm stoked, of course. Seeing as I got a little note that Jinbao wants to be "wowed," though, I'm feeling a little pressure. I don't even know if that kind of thing is possible. The "sloppy" that I identify with my dadao training probably isn't going to cut it for him, I'll bet. We shall see... we shall see.
Friday, May 29, 2009
Month of Thunderstorms
Not that I have the power, but I dub the month-long period from roughly May 15 through June 15 in this part of the world the Month of Thunderstorms.
Every time I get a chance to do some rocking outdoor training, it seems a thunderstorm rolls in. This has been going on for about two weeks now, sometimes more than once per day. The weather reports are, of course, no use for planning because the nature of this part of the world at this time of year is that it generates massive numbers of isolated thunderstorms that seem to come up out of nowhere and that are incredibly dense across the landscape. Right now, in fact, yet another of these exciting little events (weather.com indicates a 10% chance of rain for this afternoon) chased me indoors right as I finished doing some chores and got myself ready to train. Sigh. I'll take it as a sign that I should be focusing more on strengthening postures for the time being. It's not that I particularly mind training in the rain. I don't really get into training in heavy rain, however, and under lightning or in crazy wind is right out. Since my dissertation stole my yi on training standing postures, though, I'll be thankful for what I have (though I was really looking forward to some turning).
Every time I get a chance to do some rocking outdoor training, it seems a thunderstorm rolls in. This has been going on for about two weeks now, sometimes more than once per day. The weather reports are, of course, no use for planning because the nature of this part of the world at this time of year is that it generates massive numbers of isolated thunderstorms that seem to come up out of nowhere and that are incredibly dense across the landscape. Right now, in fact, yet another of these exciting little events (weather.com indicates a 10% chance of rain for this afternoon) chased me indoors right as I finished doing some chores and got myself ready to train. Sigh. I'll take it as a sign that I should be focusing more on strengthening postures for the time being. It's not that I particularly mind training in the rain. I don't really get into training in heavy rain, however, and under lightning or in crazy wind is right out. Since my dissertation stole my yi on training standing postures, though, I'll be thankful for what I have (though I was really looking forward to some turning).
Friday, May 22, 2009
Tenacity
"I'm not the smartest or naturally the best, but I have the best heart. That's how I got to where I am." -He Jinbao
That's what Jinbao said to the group after he wondered aloud if I was smart enough for this art a few years ago in the dawn of my training. Later, he told me that I "have a lot of things messed up, but my heart is good," which, looking back at it now, seems like a decent complement. I'm taking that way regardless.
This art is hard. My learning curve for physical things, in my estimation, is rather steep (in the meaning that it requires quite a bit of investment on my part to get anywhere). This is something I've lived in my years of studying karate and seems to apply even more strongly to baguazhang. Putting those things together makes this art a particular challenge for me to excel at, but I want to live by the words that Jinbao said a few years ago, probably trying to soften the blow that could have been taken as quite rude. I want to make sure that I keep my heart, my drive, my yi, if you will, the best it can be. I'm not the strongest. I'm not the fastest. I'm not the most nimble or flexible. As I was reminded the other day, though, I do have a lot of tenacity, and I intend to keep it that way.
That means getting up and doing drills a lot, and it means focusing on the intended outcome despite the fact that the drill is more difficult that way. That, in fact, has been my biggest challenge over the last few weeks: making sure I'm concentrating on quality output slows me down to the point where I wouldn't be keeping up with the cadence of a group training session. On the other hand, speeding the drill up to executable speed often causes it to become mechanical and empty. Thus, I have to stay at it and not be discouraged. Then, even when I'm sore and tired and ready for something else (like a mojito), I make time to stand and turn. I don't stand for as long as I should, I'm sure, and I rarely turn as often or for as long as I intend, but I'm trying hard to keep up with life and with my intention to train as fully as is possible.
Recently I've started to put more intention into my training, as I indicated, in all aspects. I want my turning to contain the spirit of fighting. I want my standing to contain the actions and goals of the entire system as well as the palms I'm training. I want my drills to be active and alive and vividly effective in my mind's eye. I want my applications to extend from those so that I get a good result from them with a minimum of required effort. I want my saber practice to be realistic as well, not merely going through techniques and holding onto that heavy-ass thing for dear life (at least for the life of the tendons in my wrists and shoulders). I want to get it and to get good at it. There's only one way to achieve those ends: tenacity. I have to be serious enough to put myself through the physical demands and serious enough to keep my mind active and focused despite the temptations to slip into a more mechanical practice. I have to be serious enough to get up again today and train again today even when it's a sheer act of will to get started or continue. Sticking with it and paying serious attention is quite obviously the only way.
Behind all of my training, I want to be able to look back at it when I'm finished for the day and say: "therein was the heart of the Lion."
That's what Jinbao said to the group after he wondered aloud if I was smart enough for this art a few years ago in the dawn of my training. Later, he told me that I "have a lot of things messed up, but my heart is good," which, looking back at it now, seems like a decent complement. I'm taking that way regardless.
This art is hard. My learning curve for physical things, in my estimation, is rather steep (in the meaning that it requires quite a bit of investment on my part to get anywhere). This is something I've lived in my years of studying karate and seems to apply even more strongly to baguazhang. Putting those things together makes this art a particular challenge for me to excel at, but I want to live by the words that Jinbao said a few years ago, probably trying to soften the blow that could have been taken as quite rude. I want to make sure that I keep my heart, my drive, my yi, if you will, the best it can be. I'm not the strongest. I'm not the fastest. I'm not the most nimble or flexible. As I was reminded the other day, though, I do have a lot of tenacity, and I intend to keep it that way.
That means getting up and doing drills a lot, and it means focusing on the intended outcome despite the fact that the drill is more difficult that way. That, in fact, has been my biggest challenge over the last few weeks: making sure I'm concentrating on quality output slows me down to the point where I wouldn't be keeping up with the cadence of a group training session. On the other hand, speeding the drill up to executable speed often causes it to become mechanical and empty. Thus, I have to stay at it and not be discouraged. Then, even when I'm sore and tired and ready for something else (like a mojito), I make time to stand and turn. I don't stand for as long as I should, I'm sure, and I rarely turn as often or for as long as I intend, but I'm trying hard to keep up with life and with my intention to train as fully as is possible.
Recently I've started to put more intention into my training, as I indicated, in all aspects. I want my turning to contain the spirit of fighting. I want my standing to contain the actions and goals of the entire system as well as the palms I'm training. I want my drills to be active and alive and vividly effective in my mind's eye. I want my applications to extend from those so that I get a good result from them with a minimum of required effort. I want my saber practice to be realistic as well, not merely going through techniques and holding onto that heavy-ass thing for dear life (at least for the life of the tendons in my wrists and shoulders). I want to get it and to get good at it. There's only one way to achieve those ends: tenacity. I have to be serious enough to put myself through the physical demands and serious enough to keep my mind active and focused despite the temptations to slip into a more mechanical practice. I have to be serious enough to get up again today and train again today even when it's a sheer act of will to get started or continue. Sticking with it and paying serious attention is quite obviously the only way.
Behind all of my training, I want to be able to look back at it when I'm finished for the day and say: "therein was the heart of the Lion."
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Mayhem
Following the clever titling protocol of a friend from high school (note what month it is!), I'm engaging in (continued) Mayhem in my training. I'm also, apparently, cool all of a sudden, my saber having earned me a little notoriety and neighborhood celebrity. The neighborhood kids (actually in my mom's neighborhood, where some of my working out has been going on a -- while my brother was in town, and b -- while they're putting a new roof on our house) are all duly impressed with the guy down the street with the "giant pirate sword." Sigh. I suppose, though, it's better than the guy down the street that keeps banging his giant pirate sword into the ground, because, happily, I'm not doing that!!!
Mayhem, which started a couple of weeks ago, is rocking my socks, though. My hands ache in one way or another constantly. One of the requirements is that I do at least an hour with my saber every day, although I'm reasonable enough to let myself rest at least once a week if I feel like I really need it. I'm also drilling standing and striking, poking my nose at some forms (with recommendations both for them and against them -- hedging my bets a little and trying to learn something at the same time), and learning some of the Phoenix stuff that I heard I should take a look-see at. It turns out that the Phoenix posture hurts.
On the side, after/between my drilling, throw in some calisthenics, yard work, and some serious visualization, contemplation, and meditation, and you pretty much get an idea of what this month is going to be like for me. It's fun and awful at the same time, and I'm totally blessed for the opportunity (and taking it). Hopefully, it's making me better too.
So, mayhem, anyone?
Mayhem, which started a couple of weeks ago, is rocking my socks, though. My hands ache in one way or another constantly. One of the requirements is that I do at least an hour with my saber every day, although I'm reasonable enough to let myself rest at least once a week if I feel like I really need it. I'm also drilling standing and striking, poking my nose at some forms (with recommendations both for them and against them -- hedging my bets a little and trying to learn something at the same time), and learning some of the Phoenix stuff that I heard I should take a look-see at. It turns out that the Phoenix posture hurts.
On the side, after/between my drilling, throw in some calisthenics, yard work, and some serious visualization, contemplation, and meditation, and you pretty much get an idea of what this month is going to be like for me. It's fun and awful at the same time, and I'm totally blessed for the opportunity (and taking it). Hopefully, it's making me better too.
So, mayhem, anyone?
Sunday, May 3, 2009
The Saber Two-Step and Poison Ivy
I went out for my daily saber workout today, and at the beckoning call of my wonderful wife at the perfect moment of "I'm not sure I can hold onto this thing anymore right now," I turned my attention after a while to "Number 2," my trusty little saber-toothed saw. We have an area of brushy crap in our back yard that's trying to climb and wreck our majestic holly tree and is choking a couple of azalea bushes (not that I really care, but apparently the neighbors have beseeched us strongly to not destroy the lovely pink azaleas -- I'd bushhog the whole area if I had one). Some of it is wild grape vines that have gotten out of control and some of it is very aggressive, ugly, domineering honeysuckle, those being the main targets of my saw. Unbeknownst to me until I grabbed onto a furry vine and yanked, there was also one or more poison ivy vines so big that I mistook them for limbs of an unidentified tree. I got quite a bit of it out of there in five minutes or so, and then I ran for the shower. Hopefully, I'm not going to come out all covered in poison ivy. I'm already itching all over psychosomatically (I hope). It might even be on my face and all over my hands. Ugh. Just as I got out of the shower and dressed, I went out for my saber, which I left figuring I didn't want urushiol (poison ivy's poison oil) all over my pommel (I left it until that point because I figured I'd only "rest" with the saw and then go back to the saber). Then I brought it in, and just as the door closed behind me, it started to rain. I had left the saber in a slightly sheltered area, but I'm really glad I got it in all the same. After wiping it down and cleaning it a little, I came in to talk about what I learned with it today.
First, I suffered through the form, as much of it as I know, without stopping. I'm still seriously impressed by people that can do a full saber workout and then get through the whole form in one go. Starting fresh, I can get through as much of it as I know, but I'm usually struggling by the end of that, which isn't even the end of the form. I've still got a long way to go, but as they say, "it's a long way to the top if you want to rock and roll." I am distinctly better this week than last, though, which is encouraging.
What I think has brought about this change for me is drilling again. After going through a section of the form, usually a few or several times, I've been taking a handful of techniques out of it and doing them repetitively as a means to get better at them. It's helping a lot, particularly on some of the more challenging techniques and series. More interestingly, I like it, but I think that's because I don't have to do the ridiculous numbers that might be expected out of me at a seminar or intensive. If eight of them kicks my butt, then I do eight. If I can handle thirty, then I might do that many. It depends on the drill (e.g. sparrowhawk penetrates the forest hasn't gone double-digits for me yet). These drills are one side of what I'm calling (for the purposes of this post only) the "saber two-step." Some of them are a one-two kind of thing. Most are more steps than that.
So what did I learn? With the saber, as heavy as it is, it seems there are two major facets that are both very important to training it, though this could be my inexperience talking. First, there's gross strength and endurance, which it seems are to be gained by working through the full extent of the form, turning through all of the postures as many times as can be, and doing drills, in some sense for numbers. On the other hand, there is a strong need to develop skills-based practice with it. Thinking about what I'm trying to achieve with the thing, paying attention to the finer points, and really trying to do the techniques right, even very slowly (though only to make sure I'm doing them right) is very important as well (actually, much more important). I know a lot of guys that train in a lot of things in a lot of different ways, and one thing I've noticed is that guys tend to like to get strong and then define themselves by that, paying very little attention to finer details. The finer details, though, seem to make the techniques more efficient, not to mention effective, and tend to make the overall practice simultaneously easier and more fulfilling. I think the weight of the thing drove that aspect from the front of my mind.
I also called myself "sloppy" at several points, which I think is important to recognize and admit when it happens. We all get tired, we all have learning curves to deal with, and we all should be struggling to get better. Verbalizing to ourselves when we're doing things in a sloppy manner is a keen reminder of the big picture: the goal is to get good at what we're doing. If anyone out there takes tips from me, that's my theme of the week (or for however long I train, really): remember with redoubled focus to train to get better and to get better at specific things, not just to train.
First, I suffered through the form, as much of it as I know, without stopping. I'm still seriously impressed by people that can do a full saber workout and then get through the whole form in one go. Starting fresh, I can get through as much of it as I know, but I'm usually struggling by the end of that, which isn't even the end of the form. I've still got a long way to go, but as they say, "it's a long way to the top if you want to rock and roll." I am distinctly better this week than last, though, which is encouraging.
What I think has brought about this change for me is drilling again. After going through a section of the form, usually a few or several times, I've been taking a handful of techniques out of it and doing them repetitively as a means to get better at them. It's helping a lot, particularly on some of the more challenging techniques and series. More interestingly, I like it, but I think that's because I don't have to do the ridiculous numbers that might be expected out of me at a seminar or intensive. If eight of them kicks my butt, then I do eight. If I can handle thirty, then I might do that many. It depends on the drill (e.g. sparrowhawk penetrates the forest hasn't gone double-digits for me yet). These drills are one side of what I'm calling (for the purposes of this post only) the "saber two-step." Some of them are a one-two kind of thing. Most are more steps than that.
So what did I learn? With the saber, as heavy as it is, it seems there are two major facets that are both very important to training it, though this could be my inexperience talking. First, there's gross strength and endurance, which it seems are to be gained by working through the full extent of the form, turning through all of the postures as many times as can be, and doing drills, in some sense for numbers. On the other hand, there is a strong need to develop skills-based practice with it. Thinking about what I'm trying to achieve with the thing, paying attention to the finer points, and really trying to do the techniques right, even very slowly (though only to make sure I'm doing them right) is very important as well (actually, much more important). I know a lot of guys that train in a lot of things in a lot of different ways, and one thing I've noticed is that guys tend to like to get strong and then define themselves by that, paying very little attention to finer details. The finer details, though, seem to make the techniques more efficient, not to mention effective, and tend to make the overall practice simultaneously easier and more fulfilling. I think the weight of the thing drove that aspect from the front of my mind.
I also called myself "sloppy" at several points, which I think is important to recognize and admit when it happens. We all get tired, we all have learning curves to deal with, and we all should be struggling to get better. Verbalizing to ourselves when we're doing things in a sloppy manner is a keen reminder of the big picture: the goal is to get good at what we're doing. If anyone out there takes tips from me, that's my theme of the week (or for however long I train, really): remember with redoubled focus to train to get better and to get better at specific things, not just to train.
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