Quantity Vs. Quality

I draw a lot of instantaneous inspiration from quotes in The Karate Kid.  I know in a lot of ways it's cheesy 80s fluff, but I also think that the script served as a vehicle for a lot of Robert Mark Kamen's philosophy on the martial arts.  One such scene has Daniel sitting with Mr. Miyagi eating his birthday cake, and Daniel remarks that he's worried he doesn't know enough karate for the tournament.  Mr. Miyagi agrees with him, but follows with "trust the quality of what you know, not the quantity."

That struck me as an excellent reminder for all of us.  The martial artists that have affected me the most in my time training have waxed philosophical again and again on the idea of developing excellent basics.  They have said, "Good basic technique makes good karate."  And I agree wholeheartedly.  It also occurred to me that I've seen white belts practicing good karate, and I've seen black belts practice karate that is not so good.  I've also seen that practicing good karate is a daily decision--on any given day, we can let the world bog us down.  If we do, chances are we will be training without balance, and our karate probably won't be so good.

Five years ago, I finished my master's degree in music.  It was a weird time in my life because the conferring of that degree, Master of Music, felt like an odd oxymoron.  At that point in my life, I had only realized how much I truly didn't know about music.  And it continues today--the more I learn, the more I learn what I still have left to learn, which is a lot.

As I'm sure is patently obvious by now, I'm an over-the-top, never-coming-back martial arts geek.  I just can't get enough of the stories, techniques, clinics, forms, and the list goes on and on.  Also, one of the things that I have enjoyed about advancing in rank is the new stuff I get to learn.  It's never-ending that way.  I've found the more I focus on learning in martial arts, the more the arts will teach me.

But, then we come back to the quality of what I'm learning.

I have realized that I will never achieve the perfect front kick.  Never--perfection is impossible (see my post on "Yoshu" to read more about this).  But, instead of seeing that pursuit as fruitless, I've learned that even from a white belt kick, I am learning more about how my body works, how to build my strength, and how the basic elements of that kick can be applied to more complex techniques.  The same holds true for basic punches, blocks, beginning forms, stances, and all of the stuff we learn right away.

It seems to me that mastery comes from accepting that there is always something to learn.

We all have different interests and desires when it comes to our training in the martial arts.  We also have different ideas on how our standards should be built and evaluated.  But, I think we can all agree on the necessity on strong fundamentals.  If we follow the pursuit of fundamental technique, I believe those "mystic secrets" that still live in the world's view of the arts will become simple expressions of practical basics.

I love learning about the martial arts.  There is absolutely nothing I've learned that has diminished my enjoyment of training.  I've also found that I can spend my whole life learning about the arts, and I may one day get my hands on 1% of what there is to know.  I think that would be time well spent.  Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a hankering to give my center punch a tune-up.

OSU!

(Note:  I'm applying the quality vs. quantity expression to my posts as of late.  I know they're few and too far between, but I have some good ideas brewing right now.  Be on the lookout for much more training thoughts and musings on philosophy once the academic year ends!)

Tournament

It's been a big day of karate!

Today was the WYKKO's National Championship in Atlanta, our traditional tournament.  Basically, this is a closed tournament where all of the organizers, judges, and competitors were from World Yoshukai Karate, which amounts to a pretty excellent experience.

So, you may wonder, why have a closed tournament?  Well, the WYKKO has four big tournaments a year:  the WYKKO National Championship in Atlanta, Superfights in Oxford, The Sunshine Classic in Panama City, and the Southeast Regional in Dothan.  So, we have one closed tournament, one full-contact tournament, and two open tournaments a year.  Open tournaments are a lot of fun and a great bonding experience for practitioners of different styles, but the major benefit of a closed tournament is the competitors know that they are being judged on a WYKKO scale.  The judges know the kata the competitors will draw from, the fighting will be organized and scored in impeccable Yoshukai style, and for one day of competition, we're looking at and experiencing all things World Yoshukai.  It's a pretty amazing time.

 

So, for me, this was a new experience because I was still a kyu grade at the last traditional tournament.  Since I have a recital this Wednesday, I did not compete to protect the vocal instrument, but I still learned a ton from judging competition all day.  I got to sit for 3 kata and weapons divisions apiece, two point sparring divisions, and four semi-knockdown divisions.  And prior to this, I had very little experience judging.  To be perfectly honest, I still have very little experience, but I have a world of a lot more than I had a few hours ago.

 

One of the especially nice factors this year was a short small-group clinic Shihan Torruella gave us right before we started judging.  It was brief but full of practical, no-nonsense information.  A big thing that I'm learning about judging is that with organized, trained judging, not only does the tournament flow better, but the competitors can feel good about competing in a clean, professionally-run event.  This was particularly important when it came down to the fighting divisions.  Disorganized point-fighting takes FOREVER, and is really not that much fun to watch or sometimes participate in.  Organized, professionally-run point fighting is fast-paced, exciting, and keeps the competitors on their toes.

 

But with the shop talk aside, what a tournament comes down to is the overall spirit of those competing.  Athens Yoshukai had a great showing today, and although we were in smaller numbers this year, the group was just as eager to help with setup and breakdown as always.  We got some solid feedback, and best of all, we got to spend the day with our fellow WYKKO martial artists. 

 

Now, we get to look forward to our weekend of training with Master Culbreth, and then from there, on to Summer Camp!  OSU!

Testing

There are a great many benefits to martial arts training, and perhaps the most difficult aspect of communicating the love of martial arts to a non-practitioner is that most of those dividends are not easily demonstrable or quantifiable.

So, we have grade and rank testing.  In those situations, we can measure the partially unmeasurable.  It’s not perfect, but it is traditional in the best possible way.  It’s also a very specific aspect of the overall training paradigm in the traditional martial arts—a public demonstration of techniques, fitness, and toughness in a situation infused with just enough pressure to make it worthwhile.

Yesterday, I had the pleasure to call a kyu test (those of you studying Korean arts, insert “keup,” “kup,” or “gup” for kyu.), or a color-belt test.  Yesterday’s test was particularly interesting in that it was entirely populated by white belts testing to 8^th kyu yellow belt, our first solid-colored belt (some of the dojo in the organization also use a 9^th kyu yellow-stripe belt before the solid yellow.  Minor differences in segmentation of the first groupings of techniques, but the end result is the same).  The main reason I think this is particularly tough is simply because there aren’t higher-ranking kyu grades on the floor with them.  Uncertainty, I have found, is one of the major anxieties associated with martial arts training.  In this case, the first test anxiety lives in thoughts like, “I don’t know what to do,”  “I don’t know if I know my material well-enough,” “what if I don’t pass,” among many others.  These fears, like most “real world” fears, if we’re being absolutely honest, are typically built-up in the mind.  At Athens Yoshukai (and AKF Athens as well!), students aren’t invited to test unless they are prepared to give a successful showing.  It’s repeated so often it almost sounds like another organizational maxim, but it’s true.  Sometimes tests don’t necessarily coincide with our best “karate days,” but when we show our best spirit in technique day after day in class, it doesn’t take a fortune-teller to know how a test is likely to pan out.

One of my favorite aspects of watching white belts in their first kyu grade test happens about 10 minutes into the test.  After a few techniques have been completed, the almost across-the-board uncertainty is replaced with this disciplined focus.  In other words, they put their “war face” on.  I love seeing people’s war face.  It’s just fantastic.  Even though they may not notice it happening, the long-term martial artist is making his presence known.  We’re all different, and we bring different native strengths to the table.  There are plenty of people who won’t necessarily be the strongest, fastest, or most flexible person in the room.  And that’s fine—our bodies give us certain long-range natural boundaries.  But, we can be stronger, faster, and more flexible.  Those are the gifts focused, dedicated training gives to us.  But, going back to the war face, on any given day, any one of us can be the toughest in the room.  That’s right—I believe toughness is a decision.  And more often than not, the first kyu test is one of the earliest places that a beginning martial artist decides to be tough.  And, if they let it, it will turbo charge their training as they move through the color-belt ranks.

So, back to yesterday’s test:  The interesting duality of grade testing is that although there are common elements to the performance of pretty much any test, each test period is as unique as the group that makes it up.  Most likely, that exact combination of people won’t test under the same circumstances again.  There might be others added to the mix, or it might be a smaller test.  However you slice it, the personnel involved will change.  Yesterday’s test was interesting in that we got to see glimpses of some deeper understanding of basic techniques, which doesn’t always happen with white belts.  Some of the kicks had unusually precise targeting, and there was some occasional snap to punches and blocks that was exciting to see starting to develop at the beginning level.

I was also quite impressed with breaking, which is another aspect of testing that is often riddled with anxiety.  To be honest, I don’t always find the precise, first-shot break to be the most impressive display with breaking.  It is impressive, yes, and it is the best-case scenario.  What I’m most impressed with is the will required to CRUSH it after a couple of missed attempts.  That’s toughness, and I saw that happen a couple of times yesterday.  It always makes me smile.

So, another test has come and gone, and the training cycle continues with new material, new forms, and new expectations for earlier material—if you’re willing to commit, it’s the show that never ends!  The gamer in me sees martial arts testing as one of the few ways we actually get to “level up” in real life, and that’s just plain fun.

The Inner Game of Karate

                In his book The Inner Game of Tennis, Timothy Gallwey describes two separate aspects of every human endeavor, the external and the internal.  In the external arena a game or a task is played on an outer scale with outer obstacles and outer goals.  It makes sense, right?  The ball is coming at you, so now you swing your arm and hit it back.  Easy-peasy.  The external game is, on its face, easy.  But, where we as people get into trouble is the inner-game…the game we play within ourselves.  In this game we are battling against our own insecurities, mental blocks, lapses in focus, deficiencies in mental preparedness.  The inner game is very, very hard.  And, in order to be great at anything, we must be masters of the inner game.  Stated another way—we must be masters of ourselves.

                Within the last four days, I’ve sat on two Yoshukai testing boards, one for black belt rank and one for kyu grade.  These two tests were absolute examples of the necessity of mastering the inner game.  Both had higher and lower points, but the comments were almost always about the state of preparedness of the students…the inner game.

                As martial artists, it is extremely easy to focus on the external game.  Are we chambering that front kick?  Do our strikes with our weapons have the proper focus?  Do we physically know the structure of a form?  These are things that we drill hour-in and hour-out in class (and hopefully, outside of class), and the external game of karate is very rich indeed.

                The internal game, on the other hand, is not generally at the surface of our practice, yet it is present in everything we do.  What is keeping us making the same mistakes time and again?  Why do we fear a certain aspect of our training?  What prevents us from reaching the full fruition of our goals?

                Gallwey describes it in a simple algebraic expression:

P = p – i

                Where P (Performance) equals p (potential) minus I (interference).  When I first read this, the simplicity of this concept hit me like a liver shot.  We must be constantly analyzing and eliminating our sources of interference.  In this way, our pursuit of any task becomes a microcosm of our pursuit of our best self.  That sounds important…let me repeat it in a slightly paraphrased way.  The more we work on our inner self; the better eqipped we will be to achieve our external goals.

                So, it’s time to ask yourself, what’s in the way?  Sometimes, looking at these factors is difficult, but a “gut check” is necessary for an honest assessment of our own progress.  If you want to be great at something, that desire alone is an indicator that within you lies the potential to reach your goals.  After you’ve put that goal forth in a tangible way, then begin the playing the inner game.  Remove the interference, one bit at a time.  Understand this:  you’ll never get rid of every last bit of interference.  We’re human, after all.  But, you can make that interference absolutely insignificant.

                Back to karate!  Here’s some of what this means to us:  When the time comes to confront your goals—that is, to test yourself, make sure you’re prepared.  That test can be a number of things—your first attempt at your ranking kata without looking around to see what’s coming next, your first attempt at Japanese kumite, your next literal martial arts test…you get the idea.  There is a great amount of trust that you must place in yourself—that you will keep focus and work to prepare yourself adequately.  But don’t forget, your instructors play this inner game with you.  They want to see you achieve your goals.  But also remember this, your instructor is playing his/her own inner game, too.  Nobody’s perfect, and we’re always growing together.  So, if your instructor tells you you’re not ready, trust that assessment.  Mainly because a test experience should be an opportunity to annihilate the final obstacles to that next goal.  It is in your best interest to make sure you’re mentally prepared.

                Which brings us back to what I said at last night’s test…if testing shodan is one of your goals—and if it is, that’s fantastic—you can make the inner decision to begin your training today.  Exciting, isn’t it?

OSU!

Cross-training

In this Winter of 2011, a few months after I’d started training in Yoshukai, I took a course at AKF Athens called CIT, Certified Instructor Training.  At 8^th kyu yellow belt, it felt a little early to be taking a course in martial arts instruction, but I’ve enjoyed teaching ever since finishing undergrad, and I was curious by the process.  To make a long-ish story very short, I learned as much about the process of learning martial arts as I did teaching, and from there, my martial arts training really started to take off.

An easy thing to forget at higher kyu-grade ranks is, at one point or another, we were all pretty raw when it came to martial arts.  Although I had some previous experience, I was really about as green as one could be, which is why it’s so important to remember that feeling when teaching.  It is a terrible mistake to assume that some aspect of technique or the martial arts way of life “goes without saying.”  When I started teaching voice, a mentor of mine encouraged me to always remember how I felt about five minutes before some concept was obvious.  In other words, mastery is often born out of a breakthrough from abject frustration.

So, back to CIT.  At that point, there was a fairly well-attended evening Yoshukai class at AKF.  It was extremely convenient to the ending time of most opera rehearsals, so I hit that one fairly often.  The Yoshukai class was at 6, and the CIT course was at 8.  In between, there was a 7pm Kyuki-do class, which I watched a couple times before being invited to the floor to try it out.  It was familiar to my Yoshukai training, but there were enough differences to make things very interesting.

After attending 3 or 4 of these Kyuki-do classes, I decided to start cross-training.  It was a defining decision in my martial arts career.  It opened my mind to new possibilities with my personal training, and it gave me a wider appreciation for the martial arts as a whole.   You see, I knew a good bit about different martial arts, and I’d known practitioners of various arts and seen their skill sets at work.  What I didn’t appreciate was this:  single-art training, which can be very rewarding for some, only tells part of the story.

Almost three years later, I’m now preparing myself for my first-degree blackbelt test in Kyuki-do.  My Shodan test conditioning continues its long-range benefits, and now, I’m planning on adding specific focus points relating to speed and agility, which have major applications in Kyuki-do.  In upcoming months, I’ll be keeping all of you up to date on my progress through the last 2 keup grades in Kyuki-do, as well as continuing blogging about the Yoshukai training process.

I’ll leave you with this:  I know that cross-training is not for everyone, but I would not be anywhere near operating at the level I am right now without the influence of both of these arts, along with my more tertiary study of hapkido.  From Yoshukai, I learned to generate power from the ground up, relying on a linear mode of attack which manifests itself in the grounded stancework and strikes of a true hard style.  Kyuki-do, on the other hand, has taught me a great deal about situational and mental flexibility.  Obviously, both arts have contributed to strength and physical flexibility, but each art is approached differently with regards to a broader curriculum.  Yoshukai’s curriculum, on the face of it, builds up in a very focused and deliberate way, which radiates throughout the entire process of kyu-grade training.  Kyuki-do’s core curriculum works in a very similar way, but along with that core are elements of judo, hapkido, jujutsu, kali/escrima, and many other styles which allow for broad growth in the martial arts.  I honestly do not feel as confortable with my throws as I do with kicks and punches, but I don’t think I really should at this point, given the amount of time spent on all of these techniques.  But, you know, that’s alright.  3 solid years back in the martial arts has definitely taught me that I have the time to learn the things I want to know.

More about Kyuki-do coming up soon!

Where's the Beef?

So, I was a little young for the commercial, but I do remember seeing it and finding the grouchy old lady extremely funny.  I’m not a tough audience member—I never have been.

So, for those of you who don’t remember or who never saw it, two old ladies are standing in front of a giant bun and marveling how big and fluffy it is.  It’s just the biggest bun they’ve ever seen.  A third old lady, the smallest, oldest, and crankiest of the bunch, approaches the bun and asks, “Where’s the beef?”

I’ve been thinking about that phrase in relationship to training and workouts lately.  It’s remarkably easy to put on a show of our fitness endeavors.  We can walk around in really comfortable and utilitarian workout gear, swig our bottled water, sweat a bit, and never quite get where we’re going.  It’s just a endless cycle of keeping up appearances.  And, for the most part, I don’t think we’re doing it to show off for others—instead, we’re convincing ourselves that the easier path is enough.

My question is this:  Where’s the beef?

Substance is not difficult to inject into workouts, but it has to be a conscious choice.  Whether the substance we seek is intensity, duration, focus, or consistency, we have to be acutely aware of how our workouts are shaping up from week to week.  And, just like the decision to continually work out, substance is a daily decision that eventually becomes habit-forming…for better or worse.

So, here’s a “Where’s the beef” challenge for the week that I will be attempting.  For each of my workouts this week, I will be focusing on one clear aspect of substantial work: 

First, I will increase the average duration of my cardiovascular exercise.  I think an extra 20 minutes will really get things moving.  As I’ve mentioned before, time is short lately, so I’m only going to do this occasionally, but it will move well into my next challenge.

Second is intensity.  For my next HIIT session, I am going to hit it even harder than before.  Afterwards, I’ll take stock of how I’m feeling and get a sense of heart rate for comparison.  I think if I keep this up, I’ll see positive results fairly quickly.

Third is focus.  In addition to the general workout regimen I’ve built since the summer, I’m also going to incorporate split-bodypart days into my regimen.  The general benefit I’m looking for here is to be able to move into higher quality and numerically higher reps.  I’m hoping most of these workouts will be bodyweight training to cut down on the need for equipment.  I’ll keep all of you posted on how this goes.  Any suggestions will be most appreciated.

So, that is the basic approach to my next series of workout months.  I have tests coming up over the course of the next several months in preparation for my Kyuki-do first-degree black belt test, and just like with Operation Shodan Fit, I’ll keep you posted on the approach and experience, and for those of you who don’t have a whole lot of experience with Kyuki-do, I’ll be giving some background on the art itself and my training experience so far.

In the meantime, with anything you’re working on, if you want to get to the substance of the matter, you can ask yourself, “Where’s the beef?”

Shodan

Here's a little background about the experience of post-testing for Shodan in Yoshukai karate.  Unlike with some arts, you don't hear the results of your test right away.  So, you have a few weeks to think it all through.  And, to be honest, if there's any way not to think about it and to keep training as usual in the interim, that's the best policy.

But, interestingly enough, I did expect to hear one way or the other before actual promotion happened.  In the WYKKO, official black belt promotions happen at the next major event after the test.  Winter Camp has the traditional tournament about 6 weeks later, Summer Camp has the Sunshine Classic tournament at the end of the summer, and the fall test has the Dothan tournament.  This year, due to a good friend's wedding, I'm not able to attend the Dothan tournament.  So, arrangements were made to perform the pending promotion in-house.

Here's where a little surprise came in.

So, I was expecting to hear one way or the other before the actual promotion.  At least, that's how I thought the process worked.  And, to answer some of your questions, I wasn't doubting that I passed, but I did operate under the assumption that I was just better to keep the outcome out of my brain space until I knew a clear answer.  To be honest, what happened just didn't occur to me as a possibility!

This past weekend marked the 3rd annual Athens Martial Arts Tournament.  Funnily enough, before the tournament bowed-in (formally began, that is), I fielded a lot of questions from friends in the dojo and in other area schools regarding the results of my shodan test, which I still hadn't heard.  After the initial bow-in, my friend Sam Cook was called up to receive his promotion to 2nd dan in Tae Kwon Do, which I am really glad I got to see.

Then Sensei was called to the front of the room, and suddenly it happened.  Before I knew it, I was kneeling at the front of the group, performing a formal bow to Soke and removing my brown belt.  I had absolutely no idea that Saturday would be the day.  Although the event itself was quite special and moving to me, what made it more so was that I was able to promote in front of almost all of my instructors and pretty much every student who trains with me on a regular basis.  It couldn't have been more special to me than that.

So, now the old "where are you going to hear something" question has been replaced by a new one..."what now?"

Here's what now!  I'll continue training hard, just as before.  I'm finding that martial arts magnifies the results of hard work, and the extra training time I put into my shodan test has rewarded me with a great step forward in the quality of my work as well as the general condition of my body.

Also, now I have another series of tests to prepare for in the upcoming months.  As I've mentioned before, I am approaching the last few tests before black belt in Kyuki-do:  I have my black stripe test (first keup, which is the Korean equivalent of the Japanese term 'kyu'), and then I have 2 advancement tests and my black belt test.  It'll be a whirlwind period of learning, polishing, and preparation, and I'll be keeping you posted as it happens.  I've mentioned before that my major goals in prep for this test are to improve my speed and smoothness of technique, so expect to hear some of the fun things I try with that goal in mind.

But, for right now, I'm going to celebrate my promotion the best way I know how:  by going to more martial arts classes!

OSU!